As soon as you hear even the first bars of “Lettres Sous la Pluie,” you are transported to the beauty of the rain-soaked streets of Paris. Even if you haven’t been there yourself, the distinctive sound evoked in the song is so strong that you can’t help but be transported there, at least in spirit. It is the sound of Édith Piaf‘s iconic chanson, of Jacques Brel‘s seductive romantics, of Charles Aznavour‘s heartfelt pop ballads. If a sound can evoke a time and a place, this is the sound of a street cafe in the heart of the French capital, late afternoon, in the wake of a gentle fall of rain.
It is, unashamedly, a love letter to the city, one where Paris itself is less a backdrop and more a character in the song itself, a constant presence, an entity in its own right. Brushed beats power gentle piano lines, and slowly the sounds of the city are ushered in, chiming gallic guitars and swooning accordions, and of course Leyla Romanova‘s deft and dulcet tones dancing across the top.
Travel broadens the mind, but if you can’t afford to venture to the city of love, then songs such as “Lettres Sous la Pluie” are without doubt the next best thing.
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