Hailing from multiple generations of inventive musicians–one of their grandfathers was composer and improviser Rainer Boesch–Geneva-based siblings Augustin and Zoé Sjollema make stripped-down synthpop under the moniker Citron Citron. Two years ago, their debut Chagrin Bleu set a broadly appealing tone: cool, lyrical, chic. Their new one, Maréeternelle, continues the duo’s wistful explorations. Based on themes of anxiety, depression, and cold winds, both literal and metaphorical, it’s a melancholy volume from start to finish, an effect enhanced by the group’s minimal arrangements. At the same time, nothing here is a slog. The content may get heavy, but the sonic palette of Maréeternelle is, as its name implies, constantly flowing, another quality the album owes to the simplicity of its instrumentation.
This is key. They may have a head start courtesy of their family tree, but the Sjollema siblings’ music truly does come across as DIY, their voices and synthesizer work coming together in one versatile package. This compact core gives Citron Citron a considerable amount of space to play with, and they do just that. Breathy layers of echoes, reverb, and storm sounds give “Dans ma bulle” an ethereal ambience; gulls, organ sounds, and the cold breaking of waves make “Mer du Nord” (a tribute to the siblings’ late grandmother) a moving dirge.
On the other end of the record’s energetic spectrum, singles “Par un temps pareil” and “Rafales” light up with bolder colors, neon warbles, and geometric drum machine sounds, suggesting the artsier part of the 1980s and 1990s electronic dance-pop from the likes of Zazou Bikaye or Saâda Bonaire. Bunched together almost at the LP’s end, these two tracks offer a refreshing one-two punch of sonic playfulness that adds a lighter dimension to Maréeternelle’s otherwise pensive atmosphere.
Pensive, though, serves Citron Citron well. They are clearly at home in various shades of contemplation, finding the beauty in the meditative, the brooding, and the mournful. Zoé’s protracted collapse on “Crise d’aaaangoisse” takes the duo through these modes with airy grace. Augustin’s only solo vocal track, “Bazar tout nu”, paints a fatalistic picture of a low point over gently morose melodic loops. Discussions of embodied trauma and shame make for an eerie juxtaposition against the slow buoyancy of “Chant de bataille”. These clear contrasts between uplifting and utterly downcast serve as further examples of thoughtful straightforwardness from the group; even when obvious, the opposing structures of feeling here create gripping emotional textures.
The balance Citron Citron find between raw and refined on Maréeternelle is striking. They greatly respect the art of doing less for the sake of a more significant impact, and their craft reflects it. It sits in an interesting spot as far as genre goes, enticing beats and hooks see-sawing against overall gloominess in ways that put Maréeternelle squarely in that seemingly contradictory but always intriguing category of avant-garde pop, accessible and still edging toward highbrow, a shining example of the fascinating and ultramodern sounds coming out of the underground Geneva scene today.