April March – In Cinerama

Oh, this vanity project. I’m trying to remember back to the time when I started it, and the thought that I would be able to move quickly through the several hundred records I had in my collection, in alphabetical order, and then just occasionally post when I added something new. I didn’t anticipate that it would take years and years, and that as I got further on through the alphabet, there would be enough new records in the collection that I would need to go back and do “catchup” posts – or figure out some way to keep track of which records on my shelves I had or hadn’t written about. Right now, everything new goes onto the “new acquisitions” shelf, and stays there at least until I’ve written about it here. But even that method, I can mess up.

The proof that my method isn’t foolproof is this record, April March’s “In Cinerama.” I added this to my collection in March 2022. I know this because I’ve gotten obsessive over my Discogs collection. As I started to write about another, newer April March record, I found out I’d never written about this one.

I only first became aware of April March through her version of “Laisse Tomber Les Filles,” the swinging English language “Chick Habit” that was featured in Quentin Tarantino’s “Death Proof.” Then I became enamored of her collaboration with Olivia Jean, “Allons-y,” which is an infectious little number:

I’m not entirely sure how this particular record came to my attention, but I do recall ordering it directly. It was originally a Record Store Day release in 2021, but like a lot of these things, it sold so well there was a reissue. I think I bought mine direct from Omnivore.

I’m having a bit of a hard time describing the sound, so I’ll borrow from Omnivore’s page:

In Cinerama has a wide sonic span from Nigeria to California, with Fela Kuti’s drummer Tony Allen at the helm and The Beach Boys’ Marilyn Wilson-Rutherford by his side, as well as talented friends ranging from the French underground to Nashville; The 11 tracks, co-written and co-produced by Mehdi Zannad, recall the 5th Dimension, Belle And Sebastian and even your favorite Gainsbourg or Curt Boettcher productions but stand on their own just as fresh and contemporary as the waves of Malibu or a Parisian Uber.

I mean, it’s pop, but dreamy pop, jazzy pop, and then it’s something else. Whatever it is, I do rather love it.

I forgot to note when I first posted this that it features Andy Paley on guitar. Andy Paley recently passed away, and nearly everyone I respect in the music biz (or even music-adjacent) had the most beautiful things to say about what a wonderful person he was. He appears in some odd corners of my collection – this record, a Brian Wilson song on a Doc Pomus tribute from 30 years ago, a Jonathan Richman album, and on a cover of his own song, “Come Out and Play,” by my beloved Flashcubes. He had an incredible impact on everyone he worked with, and as sad as any passing is, it was beautiful to see the outpouring of love he drew.