La Grande Fête

From its opening, soothing ooooh-oooohs, the third album from Belcirque has a clean, elegant sound. That might be due to the choice of a greenhouse for the recording sessions, or maybe it's just that the Belgian band – born from high school friendships as a street-performing five-piece, now a well-synced septet – have a clear vision of what they want to achieve.

Over 13 tracks, their ‘big feast’ of music has some South American rhythms, mixed with slow swing, folky touches, African guitar licks and North American blues grooves. For all the ingredients, it's never busy or baggy, nor even that tasty. The band, packed with talent, always opts for crisp melodies, softly stroked percussion and smooth bass lines. A quasi-barbershop schtick means voice is usually to the fore, but often shared between three or four mouths. ‘L'Homme’ starts like a stark Brel number, with moodily plucked strings, but is soon punctuated by soft, stirring harmonies. ‘The Anchor’ is almost spoken word, with a looser jazz quality. ‘Petit Chemin’ is a minor-key, almost noir-ish chanson, with lead singer Astrid Creve given a bit of room to emote. But all the compositions work more as word paintings than rousing songs; this is no singalong experience. The whole package has a hotel lounge, background music feel that is never as dull as mere muzak, but, with so many talented musicians vying to tell their story, it can seem a bit rootless and rudderless.