The first song I’ve ever heard of Yseult was Corps, and I’ll always be grateful for it to have found me when it did. Corps is one of those tracks that truly left me speechless, deeply emotional and maybe changed forever. I am not exaggerating, I can promise you that.
When I listened to Corps for the first time, it made me pause. It made me reflect. It made me burst into tears.
For me, Yseult’s voice has never needed too much to be elevated. It could just be her and the piano and it would already be enough. Simple and tender. Her voice is such a powerful instrument, it could easily bring one out of their comfort zone. Make you curious, eager for more. When she sings, you don't have any other choice than stop and listen.
I admire that.
I said it once and I’ll say it again, what I love about Yseult’s music is how raw it is. The way she writes, the way she pronounces her words, the range of her voice. She has nothing to hide and she says everything she feels, unapologetically. It’s how brutally honest it can be, how vulnerable it can make you feel. Seen, read even, through and through.
Knowing all the above, I thought I would be diving into Mental, Yseult’s second album, somehow prepared for what would be coming. What I would be hearing and experiencing.
Well, I wasn’t, to say the least.
This album is for me, the kind of body of work that I’d wished I could hear for the first time and be blown away again and again, right from the start. It’s surprising, in a good way. It’s unpredictable and so entertaining.
Mental is audacious. Thirty-eight minutes divided into thirteen tracks where the artist explores various genres the way only she can do. In this project, Yseult goes beyond her modern reading of Variété Française. She merges worldwide influences and goes everywhere she wants to go, even in places where she would’ve not necessarily been expected. Places where I would’ve not expected her.
Yseult presents her new playground where deep and gut wrenching ballads coexist with electronic and indie rock sounds without missing a beat. It just flows. She’s not afraid to dive into new territories and transport you to the rave dance floor on tracks like Gasolina, Trance or Bitch You could Never. Always including her unfiltered lyrics, always allowing her voice to lead, always mixing French and English as if they were just one language. The sky is definitely the only limit.
Mental is a rollercoaster of emotions. It’s mature, empowering, aware and liberated. It’s silly at times and profound at other moments or exactly when needed. Yseult comes back with a beautifully produced project where she’s not afraid to speak her truth, addressing important subjects such as mental health or racial inequality. She is here and rightfully catching our attention.
As my friend said, “the whole album is mental”. And to be honest, I couldn’t have phrased it any better.
Si c’est ça l’amour moi je te quitte, toi, mon petit, mon petit, petit coeur…
The project opens up with Petit <3, one of my favorite tracks on this album. It’s an hypnotic and emotional ballad, full of pain and sorrow. A heartbreak that you can feel in how the artist performs the song, how her voice is hesitant at times, how she whispers and then wails the pain away.
I love the production and the progression of the song. How it starts with only Yseult’s voice before it being caught up by the instruments. I love the presence of this piano dancing with her voice perfectly, as usual. The sound moves freely from one ear to the other and just fills the space it is welcomed in. Petit <3 is such an immersive track, it feels like diving in this pool of pain and being consumed by it at every new note. When listening to Petit <3 eyes closed, the sense of time is lost, at least until the melody dies out.
À chaque fois je me retrouve à courir après tous ces cons, cons, cons !
Part of Mental sounds like a Rock/Pop Rock band record, inspired by names like The Cranberries, The Beatles or BB Brunes. It seems so easy for Yseult to expand and have her personal take on every music genre she touches. Her voice just fits. On Garçon, you can feel the rush, the course-poursuite like energy of the song matching perfectly its lyrics. Listening to Cute, I feel free, like I’m on a bike ride, like I’m deep in the soundtrack of a James Bond movie or dancing in a French Club somewhere in Paris, back in the 90s.
Suicide is such a phenomenal track. It’s heavy, raw and hard to listen to. Hard because it’s real, maybe too real. The way Yseult’s voice cracks when she’s admitting how hurt she is, when she is asking for help again and again. The way the beat changes so suddenly before going back to its original frame.
How can you not be angry when your whole life you’ve been dismissed?
Anger is the longest track of the album. It’s a celebration of blackness and the pride of belonging. It also questions and reveals how blackness can be lived, how unsafe it can be in certain places. Anger educates and invites reflection. The song sends a strong message that Yseult shares gladly, without any second thinking.
Mental ends on a softer note with Tuning, creating a perfect contrast with how the album started, with the emptiness of Petit <3. Tuning feels like coming from a heart that is finally back to life, a heart ready to love again. Tuning is lighter, loud and optimistic. Tuning is adventurous, far from all the dark emotions that it’s leaving behind.
And this solo guitar is engraved in my mind forever now.
Mental is an emotional journey exploring everything from pain and anger to pride and joy. It urges you to pause and listen, to catch every detail. The production on this album is strong and immaculate for me. Each song has its own essence, its own universe and although very different from one another, all of them work beautifully together.
It’s a unique sensory experience, where fast paced tracks are joined with more subtle ones to create a balanced and stimulating body of work.
On Mental, Yseult shows her growth as an artist but also as a person, as a woman. The range of her artistry is impressive and seems to have no limits. Here, she remains true to herself, as always, sharing her vulnerability, her experiences and all these emotions that make one human.
If you enjoyed reading this review, here’s another one for you <3
Exodus
Exodus by Bob Marley and The Wailers – who else? you might be whispering – is probably one of the best albums ever written, produced and recorded of all time. I know I’m not saying anything new for most people. I just wished I knew this way earlier for myself too. I still feel a little ashamed with the fact that I came across the album only this year. …
Selective Taste is also a playlist that I update as often as I can. I share more of my music taste there and some of these songs that shaped my day to day life from an update to the next one. If you love to discover new tracks like me, feel free to add it to your library <3
Selective Taste is free to read today. However, if you’d like to support me further, please consider buying me a matcha latte; and if you like Afro House and Electronic Music you can stream my mixes here <3. Enjoy !
Great review. Glad to listen along
I’ve had this on repeat since I saw your rec omg