Limoilou is Safia Nolin’s first album, and despite its categorization as French Pop, it’s nowhere near as poppy as a lot of Quebec City bands are. Nolin has an air of sadness to her that lends itself well both to her slower, sobering brand of pop music and to the romance of the French language.
There isn’t a single song on this album that feels like a pick-me-upper, so I don’t recommend it if you’re looking for a party album for the weekend. But for moments of introspection, it’s a fantastic listen.
There’s a moment in the film While You Were Sleeping, where the grandmother notes that Catholic church services were better when they were in Latin and she couldn’t understand them. In that sense, I think part of Limoilou’s all our is that it’s in French and I don’t understand a word Nolin is singing. It allows me to attach my own emotion to the album, to feel the music itself instead of the draw of the words. If that sounds attractive to you, Limoilou might be the week’s perfect record for you.