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\"Hungry, Horny and Ambitious\" With Christine And The Queens

“Horny, Hungry and Ambitious” with Christine and the Queens

The band’s latest album, Chris, explores sexuality and more over a pop-funk beat.

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By JT Lucas

Growing up as a pansexual girl in the Western part of France, harboring a penchant for shattering norms and desiring to be loved and wanted on her terms, is exceptionally tricky. Héloïse Letissier, the French girl I’m talking about, long held onto a fear of being placed into a box. Her childhood was full of jazz and piano and dance and Michael Jackson. As she became older, her interests didn’t align with her classmates, who handled her quirkiness with emotions ranging from indifference to confusion to anger.

In university, she was met with the very tangible force of misogyny, when she was kicked out for attempting to direct a stage play, a role that was reserved only for boys. Her dark funk was then amplified when she was dumped by her girlfriend, causing her creative well to run dry. She retreated to London, where she ventured upon a gay club, where she met three drag queens (the “and the Queens” part of Christine and the Queens) who saw her potential and convinced her to move past her sadness. She adopted a new persona: Christine. Letissier assures us that within each and every one of us, there is a “Christine” — that proud, unfiltered, confident version of ourselves. “Christine” doesn’t need to shove herself in a box, fit your heteronormative roles or be liked on anyone’s terms but her own. “Christine” doesn’t even need to be queer in the way that society demands her to be. “Christine” is free.

Chris, the latest offering of Christine and the Queens, is not merely an album, but also a newer manifestation of Letissier’s personality. Chris is described by Letissier as “horny, hungry and ambitious.” In the opening track, introduced by the classic THX sound that informs us of the cinematic experience we’re about to witness, you really believe that. Songs like “Comme si,” “Girlfriend (ft. Dam-funk),” and “Damn (what must a woman do)” let us know that Christine can absolutely please a woman if she will just let her.

The first glimpse into the complexity of Chris happens on “The walker,” where the singer describes bruises, swollen eyes and other pain felt, either figuratively or literally, as a result of laying oneself bare. Chris has felt the cold indifference and exclusivity of her peers (“What’s-her-face”), lamented the state of the world today (“Make some sense”), and has maybe, probably metaphorically but also maybe not, had a brief foray into some very inexpensive prostitution (“5 dollars”).

The cornerstone of this album, “Doesn’t matter,” shows Letissier addressing her thoughts of suicide head-on. Unsuccessful at escaping from her darkest thoughts through relationships and sex, she wears her “rage as a fabric, through and through,” acknowledging the “loud whispers” behind her back and decrying the pressures of starving oneself to gain the attention of others. It comes to a climax at the line “forget I said it,” illuminating that hard choice between being honest about your pain and keeping it quiet.

Many have speculated, possibly erroneously, that she created a character, the Voleur du Sol, or “Sun-stealer,” who stole her a “shard of sunlight” at the end of the song and rescued from her darkness. I choose to believe this, rather than the recent revelation that this “Sun-stealer” was most likely actually invented to take the sunlight away and leave her to wallow in her despair alone. It’s a powerful, infinitely deep song placed to such a happy beat.

The sound of Chris is pop-funk perfection. The upbeat selections from Chris are perfect for car-dancing at red lights or dancing in the kitchen in your underwear — not necessarily club fare, but still danceable in its own right. She seems to dial the production way back when she gets into a more serious topic, creating some haunting, soaring melodies. Letissier’s clear and powerful voice has a strong staccato punctuated by her infectious accent.

She recorded most of this album in an old studio that the French ambient electronica duo, Air, used to use. She utilized some vintage instruments in her recording, which gave the album some retro ‘90s vibes and is also just pretty darn cool. If you’re feeling international, there is also a Frenchspeaking version of the album, containing two songs that werenot translated into English, both of which are also bops.

JT Lucas is a Columbus-based music enthusiast, frequent concert-goer and a Carly Rae Jepsen superfan.

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