Casey Dienel refuses to be pigeonholed, having spent her early twenties bouncing between various musical roles. A former solo artist turned bandleader, she delves into avant-garde French pop with Luniculaire, her second recording under the White Hinterland moniker. Although only comprised of five tracks, the EP speaks volumes about White Hinterland's musicianship, both in its ambition (impressive) and overall performance (spotty, yet well-intentioned). Dienel's own performance is nearly flawless, her vocals brimming with woozy elegance as she sings entirely in French. Her band's arrangements, however, don't always suit the material, as they eschew the jazz influence of White Hinterland's previous work for an off-kilter approach to rhythm and melody. Luniculaire opens with Requiem Pour un Con, a song originally performed by Serge Gainsbourg with a cool, erotic charge. Here, Dienel's credible interpretation is ruined by Alexis Gideon's atonal guitar, whose distorted spasms of noise threaten to derail a song once known for its steady confidence. Things improve during the band's two remaining covers; Françoise Hardy's Mon Ami La Rose is given a sparse arrangement anchored by piano, while Brigitte Fontaine's J'ai 26 Ans takes an interesting turn, flaunting a mix of tribal drums and Eastern instruments. The EP also features two original songs, including the atmospheric standout track Chant de Grillon. Over the course of 23 minutes, Luniculaire manages to make up for its shaky beginning, and Dienel's decision to tackle such difficult material is both unexpected and commendable. Requiem Pour un Con, however, is little more than atonality for atonality's sake. ~ Andrew Leahey, Rovi

1		Requiem Pour Un Con
2		Chant de Grillon
3		Mon Ami La Rose
4		J'ai 26 Ans
5		Lunirascible

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