I’m actually quite pleased to have stumbled upon the curiously named Moodoïd, this freshly uncovered French psychedelic fusion pop act from Pablo Padovani, who’s also the guitarist for like-minded kaleidoscopic peers Melody’s Echo Chamber.
Admittedly, until a few days ago, I had no idea this Parisian export even existed, which comes as a bit of a surprise to me. As many of my prior posts have hinted, I hold an ongoing affinity for the psychedelic genre of the dream-gazed and paisley-popped. I also have a sincere appreciation of Melody Prochet’s aforementioned Echo Chamber project. And for additional bafflement, I only recently learned that Kevin Parker (of Tame Impala fame) factored into this mercurial mix as well, aiding in the realization of Moodoïd’s 2013 self-titled debut EP.
It would seem that I still have some catching up to do.
Moodoïd came to my attention through one of my typical Spotify shuffles, with an unassuming track titled “Le lac d’or,” which (Google) translates to “The Golden Lake.” Upon first impression, it struck me as a kindred DIY spirit to smaller indie acts like Vinyl Williams, Morgan Delt, or something in that L.A. Desert Daze vibe of soft hallucinogenic harmony.
I instantly connected, finding its asymmetrically smooth grooves a gateway to a serene slip and slide psychedelia, spacey and spacious, cosmically ethereal and liquidly lucid. “Le lac d’or” feels like a stereophonic trip to the ancient annals of ’70s prophetic retro-future sci-fi spectacular, as viewed through a gauzey monolithic prism of rainbow ancient hues and ayahuasca desert flares. It’s visually provocative, not quite audio hallucinatory, yet still spirited in suggestive imaginings.
Moodoïd’s 2015 single “Le lac d’or.”
Moodoïd began back in 2010, the same year Tame Impala’s “InnerSpeaker” debuted, and two year’s prior to that of Melody’s Echo Chamber … if you’re interested in context. Padovani assumed vocal duties, offering a soft phase of falsetto, with remaining members Maud Nadal lending additional vocals/guitar, the rhythm duo of Clémence Lasme and Lucie Antunes funking the percussive beats on bass and drums, respectively, and Lucie Droga spacing out on cosmic keys.
The five-piece have since released two varied, yet distinctly psych-influenced albums, 2014’s space-jazzed freeform rock odyssey “Le Monde Möö” and 2018’s electro-pop dance machine “Cité Champagne,” as well as a handful of diverse EPs, including the Parker-influenced debut. Curiously, “Le lac d’or” doesn’t appear on any of these aforementioned efforts, instead offered as a standalone single in 2015.
As you’ve probably surmised, all the lyrics are in French, which I’ve found to be more of a strength, rather than a perceived cultural chasm. Strangely, the mind fills in these language gaps, crafting its own intangible translation, bridging the barrier at an intuitive level. Weird, I know. But psychedelia has a way of bending reality to its own set of rules.
I should probably wrap things up, since I’ve been a bit long-winded and freeform in the write-up. Plus, I’m drifting into tangential abstractions. In the process, though, I’ve also had ample time and opportunity to explore some additional aural excursions in the Moodoïd soundscape.
So I’m going to conclude with a pair of paisley grooves, “Je suis la montagne,” bathed in a breezy dream glaze, and “La lune,” softly rocked in a folk-psyched renaissance rhythm. The the former comes from their self-titled debut, the latter from “Le Monde Möö.”
Both tracks just resonated with my current mood and mindset, seeming as serendipitous elaborations to “Le lac d’or.” I’ve also included their given music videos, mainly because they exist. And the visual accompaniment to “Je suis la montagne” is weird enough to warrant it.
Enjoy these fine psychedelic selections of kaleidoscopic pop and lava lamp rock from the velvet smooth mind of Moodoïd. Until the next one …
“Je suis la montagne” from the 2013 self-titled debut.
“La Lune” from the 2014 album “”Le Monde Möö.”
