France's Benjamin Biolay left behind his provocative Buenos Aires cycle after two acclaimed albums, Palermo Hollywood in 2016 and the platinum-certified Volver in 2017). Grand Prix is nostalgic and unquestionably autobiographical. Its title references Formula 1 racing's excitement, drama, heroes, and tragedies. "Grand Prize" artfully contrasts racing with his own life experiences and the sacrifices he's made in pursuit of art. Of course his romantic life plays a major part: Ex-wife Chiara Mastroianni makes two guest appearances, former lover Keren Ann makes another, and current girlfriend, actress Anaïs Demoustier, assists on two others. The younger Biolay loved the Smiths, Happy Mondays, New Order, and the Strokes and he pays homage to them all and more, with a small band, analog synths, complete guitar and drum takes, and live vocals in songs that caress elements of Krautrock, post-punk, Brit-and electro-pop, Euro-disco, chanson, and MPB.
Single "Comment Est Ta Peine," with Demoustier, opens with a disco-phonic synth similar to Daft Punk's "Get Lucky." However, the organic drums, sharp, funky guitars, and rigid bassline are adamantly rockist. Biolay's lyrics enquire about his lover's existential pain, contrasting it egotistically and ironically with his own. Mastroianni appears on the poignant yet hooky "Visage Pâle," where Biolay claims with too much protestation that "I have less appetite than sincerity/Love has a price that I can no longer pay…." On "Comme Une Voiture Volée," guitars ring with longing and excitement (think M83!) as drums and swirling synths propel the mix up and out. His lyrics offer only longing: "My heart is like an old engine when you lift the bonnet. You're as beautiful as a stolen car.…" The chanson ballad "Vendredi 12" questions a lost lover's memories while betraying the depths of his own abjection and loneliness. The title track is introduced by a nostalgic organ and distinctly "French rock" dancefloor beat. It's an uptempo elegy for Formula 1 driver Jules Bianchi, who died from his racing injuries at age 24. For "Papillon Noir," with Demoustier, he channels New Order's dancefloor rock beautifully. Again, despite the joy in the mix, his lyrics are resigned to always being in a temporary place when it comes to love: "I am an evening visitor, I am the vestiges of the dark sun/I am the night watchman, I am the bizarre boy...who has nothing to do/I am your only alibi, your temporary libido…." Closer "Interlagos (Saudade)" touches on the 1994 death of Brazilian Formula 1 driver Ayrton Senn, then revels in Biolay's own tears, joys, and small victories; it's a dreamy lament, complete with choirs, strings, and shuffling percussion, elevated by the presence of his daughter Anna (credited as "Bambi") on backing vocals. Ultimately, Grand Prix is Biolay's finest album since 2009's La Superbe, if not his best overall, and is easily his most revealing and vulnerable. No longer the enfant terrible of modern chanson, the singer, songwriter, and producer is now one of France's most evocative -- and necessary -- artists.