Transcending language barriers, Éther delivers top-tier electro-pop that connects through Peter Peter’s innate sense of rhythm, cadence, and style.
Admittedly, I haven’t been following Peter Peter’s career trajectory too closely since 2017’s brilliant Noir Éden, but as is often the case with francophone artists outside of Quebec, English-language media coverage for the Montreal-based singer-songwriter (born Peter Roy) has been pretty non-existent. 2020’s Super Comédie didn’t quite capture my attention as much as its predecessor did, but with Éther, his fifth full-length, Peter Peter is back in my musical orbit. Transcending language barriers, Éther delivers top-tier electro-pop that effortlessly connects with fans through Peter Peter’s innate sense of rhythm, cadence, and style.
Based on song titles and the lyrics I’ve already decoded, Éther treads similar thematic ground to Noir Éden: moody, introspection that grapples with existential questions without feeling the need to deliver answers. Opener “Soleil” is slinky and sexy, a melodic earworm that reminds me of Trans X’s “Living on Video.” Both songs have a distinct synthetic quality to their arrangement, which I find Peter Peter explores more intently on Éther. As the music gets colder and feels more artificial, Roy’s vocal delivery leans in the opposite direction. He maintains an air of cool detachment, but a sense of immediacy on the dazzling “20k heures de solitude” feels deeply human.
Aside from sporting Éther’s most unwieldy title in any language, “Danses-tu dehors, ce soir quelque part, loin de ton téléphone?” (rough translation: “Are you dancing outside somewhere tonight, away from your phone?”) is the album’s most vulnerable and emotional narrative moment. Like Robyn’s iconic “Dancing On My Own,” Peter Peter packs “Danses-tu dehors…” with musical and emotional hooks, making you feel the visceral fear of being abandoned in your heart, soul, and feet. It’s a testament to Peter Peter’s artistry that his music feels universally relatable.
