Pitchfork

Hey, you've heard that rumor about Air's Moon Safari, right? You know, that certain something that people are always whispering and giggling to each other about? I've even read a couple interviews with the well-coifed duo where they flat-out ask them about it. I think you see what I'm getting at here. Wink, wink... nudge, nudge? Cough, cough?

That's right-- they're French. Oh yeah, and I've also heard that some people consider Moon Safari to be the ultimate album for, ahem, makin' with the love. Of course, Air can't be bothered with making music for such carnal matters anymore, preferring instead to make unsexy progtronica that only Trekkies could use in the bedroom. By submitting to silly notions of "artistic growth" (and by the way, those are "Air quotes"), Air has left a serious void in the music world. When Moon Safari has been played out, what's an indie couple to put on the stereo after a romantic candlelit vegan dinner and a Wes Anderson DVD?

Never fear, randy music lovers-- Zero 7 is here with an album-length homage to Air's notorious makeout soundtrack. I use the word 'homage', though I could just as easily use the phrase blatant freaking ripoff. It's all semantics. Zero 7 use the same instrumentation (organic drums, bass, guitar bed with lotsa Rhodes and synth), get the same production sound (front-and-center melodic smooooov bass), and explore the same saucy thematic territory. The only Air-ish gimmick Zero 7 doesn't trot out here is the vocoder, which, given that it's been used recently by everyone from Cher to the White Stripes, is probably a wise decision.

But it's a beautiful spring day outside while I'm writing this, and my savage critical instincts have been blunted by sunshine and blooming trees, so I'll stick with 'homage.' I've never been one to fault imitation-as-flattery as long as it's done well, whether that's the Stones and Dylan Xeroxes of Nuggets to the Wilson/Beatles worship of Elephant 6. Zero 7 at least has the chops to be ar above-average Air cover band, from the "Ce Matin La" knockoff strings in the breakdown of "Spinning" to the familiarly spacey "Give It Away" and "Out of Town."

What I can't excuse, however, is schmaltzy lite-R&B crooning, which the two Brits behind Zero 7 seem to have an unfortunate weakness for. More than half of Simple Things features this nauseating dreck, from the quivery female-soul vocal clichés of Sia Furler ("Distractions") and Sophie Barker ("In the Waiting Line") to the Vandrossian male falsetto swings of Mozez ("This World" and the title cut). Without fail, these collaborations bring to mind the KZZZ easy-listening radio stations that exist primarily for piping into waiting rooms of allergists and dentists around the country.

The scary thing about these vocal tracks is how negligibly different their musical backing is from the infinitely more enjoyable instrumentals. And given the more-than-passing resemblance to Moon Safari's content, Zero 7 makes me wonder if Air was just a bad singer decision away from this kind of musical syrup. I'm tempted to begrudge Zero 7 for retroactively spoiling my appreciatior for Moon Safari.

But then again, Air is already Revlon's house band, so the commercial potential of this kind of limp-tronica isn't too shocking a realization. Zero 7's cosmic instrumental journeys are no less marketable as hipster easy listening ("I feel like I should be driving in a hybrid car," my roommate commented during one listen). If you're the kind of forgiving soul that can get past Zero 7's dalliances with copyright infringement, and if you have a CD player that can skip over the vocal tracks, Simple Things is a decent soundtrack to get your freak on. Otherwise, go on and give the Air some air.