JOLY reveals himself to the world through his new rock-folk concept album Deuil, a deeply intimate and visual musical experience. On 14 tracks with cinematographic airs, the Franco-ontarien musician from Hawkesbury invites us to travel through the different ways we grieve in our 20s.
I am lucky to say that it was during an interview with me last November that JOLY revealed the title of his album. I remember the stunned reaction of his life and stage partner, Céleste Lévis, who admitted she had no idea it was the chosen title.
JOLY. Photo: Mylène Desbiens.
Marc-Antoine Joly is indeed full of surprises. Dark and introspective in appearance, the singer-songwriter evokes being in constant search of light, lost in his imagination, where letting go is sometimes difficult: “Things are always spinning in my head,” he said, reflecting on his songs “Carrousel” and “Ça tourne encore.” Hence the five years it took him to release this album.
Letting go of your art, to let it exist with the public is just one grief among many others. On Deuil, JOLY mainly addresses the ones that happen in our 20s: “It’s generally a time where we learn a lot, where we gain our independence, and where we discover the person we want to be. There is also the mourning of friendships; we all have friends that come and go, unfortunately. They don’t die, they just become so distant from the heart that they transform into a memory.”
“And where is the light present in your album?” I ask him. “In ‘Cache-cache’,” he says: the first song on the album, which evokes a breakthrough of hope, is connected musically with the last song, “Deuil,” which concludes the musical experience on a melancholic note. “Deuil” is “a rope that brings us back to the beginning, reminding us of the cliché of the cycle of life.”
The time and space of the album transport us on several occasions to a house, sometimes nightmarish, sometimes comforting, inhabited by constant tension. There is no point A to point B; every transition to a new room transforms into a sort of rumination of the mind. The instrumental songs underline this aspect and create the cinematographic tone of the album. “Sort” and “Les murs saignent” are the perfect examples.
JOLY. Photo: Mylène Desbiens.
The relationship to the self is intrinsic in the film-album of the musician’s life. “It’s a therapeutic album,” JOLY reveals. “I know it’s very selfish!” Hence his reflex to address himself in the second person in almost all of his songs.
How does the musician feel about showing himself in broad daylight? JOLY claims to have always been connected to his emotions and to appreciate artists’ work with similar approaches: “Whether we like it or not, a man’s relationship to emotions can be a little more difficult to overcome. For me, it was never really a problem; I was always very close to them.” This is why the goal of his music also comes down to making people realize that they are not alone in what they are going through.
“Si loin de toi (So far from you)” is ironically the song that is closest to the musician’s heart: “It’s about missing someone who is close to us, without having the chance to see them.” He shares that the “someone” in the song is his wife, Céleste Lévis.
JOLY collaborates musically with the love of his life as well as with his brother Simon Bobine Joly, and says he is grateful to work with the people he loves: “If my brother wasn’t there, I’m not sure if the album would have been released.” He also collaborates with Simon in another band, The Great Diversion. When working with Céleste, he says he can access more softness with the tone of her voice: “It allows you to go to other places!”
He says these different musical collaborations allow him to access and explore his many facets—the same ones that meet, confront, and complete each other in Deuil.
Shows by JOLY will be announced soon. You can stream the new album on Spotify now.
