Pokett: "Crumble"

TRACK LIST:
1. Elvis Press Play
2. Marmalade
3. Fall
4. Carthago
5. Morning
6. Sun
7. Bar
8. Allright
9. Train
10. OK Cancel

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NOTES:
Pokett Debut LP. Out now through MGM Distribution.

REVIEWS:
Pokett is Paris-based artist Stephane Garry and friends, and the English-language Crumble is his stunning debut CD. Well, perhaps stunning isn't the word, as it implies some amount of visceral shock. Rather, Crumble is a gentle, often fragile concoction of organic instrumentation, which drifts between lilting and sombre with effortless beauty. After the background radio fuzz and whirring electronic introductory of the magnificently titled ElvisPressPlay, Garry launches straight into the album highlight, Marmalade. It's a gorgeous foray through the realm of folktronica, with slide guitar injecting the tune with a sense of open-road Americana. The chorus outro is delivered with childlike wonderment, a gently tinkering glockenspiel perfectly complementing Garry's lovelorn lyricism. Fall immediately strips the sound back to its acoustic core, with some sullen fingerpicking working in unison with the Frenchman's tender vocals. Soon, and rather unexpectedly, the track breaks into an organ-drenched, indie/alt-country anthem, before meandering its way back down to plaintive acoustica. But it's not all sombre introspection. Train introduces itself with disconcerting backward guitars phasing in and out, creating a sample cacophony behind a determined vocal line. In the end, the vocals win out as the arrangement moves into more conventional territory, building to an outro of electric guitars which fall somewhere between Layla and Oasis. Crumble is an album that reveals itself slowly, an album packed with hidden charms and intricacies, all the while possessing the kind of unconventional beauty which befits the wide-eyed lass who graces the cover artwork.
- City Search, Juan-Pablo Chavez, June 2006

Pockett's debut is really rather a treat. Don't be put off by the hideously cute-chic cover art (I don't want to pinch her cheeks, I want to cover her face with a sick bag and/or bonk her on the head with that phone), because Crumble - the debut disc from Gallic charmer Stephane Garry - is really rather a treat. Beginning with the naif crackles of Elvis Press Play, the rest of the album is more standard folk crossover but never anything less than delightful. Ranging from the gentle pop melancholia of Morning to the rollicking Marmalade and the skittish Train, the record could have ended up slight or twee, but such is Garry's obvious sincerity - and clear, bell-like voice - that it comes off endearing instead, Crumble ending up like a "male" companion piece to Emiliana Torrini's stunning Fisherman's Woman. The various beeps, sweeps and creeps stop it from becoming just another Nick Drake wannabe, but by the same token, the crystalline nature of his folk sounds are never overrun by fiddly bits. As the Neighbours crew would say, he's found the perfect blend.
- The Age, Clem Bastow, August 2006


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