sebastien tellier + lykke li

It’s the ballsy ‘Breaking It Up’ and closer ‘I’m Good, I’m Gone’ that leave us all yapping in adoration afterwards for her sheer attitude – she even uses a kazoo and megaphone without a hint of twee. Vocally ferocious, Li’s is a voice almost grappling onto its pitch but feels far more convincing because of its imperfections. Sporting some giant sunglasses throughout, SEBASTIAN TELLIER’s lighting sparkles around the room giving the effect of a soap opera dream sequence circa 1960, as his syrupy tones glaze Eurovision hopeful ‘Divine’ with its bubbling synths. ‘Roche’ is a particularly smooth ode to doing the bad thing with its crisp click track. It’s cooed by its maker as though he’s lost in his own thoughts. At other times there is a wiff of Spinal Tap to the virtuoso guitar playing, but its hemmed back by blocky moogs and a lethal snare kick. A talkative old soul, Tellier is not backwards when it comes to being forwards, as the graphic ‘Kilometer’ proves - sex noises and all. Caught between these heady moments, he’s also full of inter-song banter. Some of this falls under the lost in translation moniker (with some deadpanning about small boys) but in a gig-saving way he ends by pulling out a remarkably romantic version of ‘La Ritournelle’. Having gently persuaded us with his sex pest ways and comedic quips, Tellier stands as the French Prince; an electronic, uninhibited man, and (if he’s honest) a musician so sexy he wants to fuck himself. There’s something very envious in that kind of confidence… I wonder what Wogan will make of him?