It's hardly surprising that Zazie topped the charts in France with her seventh studio album, seeing how it unites two of the most most prominent, even stereotypical, trends French music is noted for -- chanson and clever, airy electronica. All the songs on Za7ie are comprised of pretty wordy, and the focus is firmly on Zazie's vocals, which effortlessly scale upper registers while avoiding any unnecessary warbling, and manage to sound sensual despite being pointedly dispassionate. The music behind the voice, meanwhile, utilizes sparse but clever IDM beats and equally simple and gentle synthesizer textures, adding live instruments such as pianos and acoustic guitars only as afterthoughts to emphasize the record's laconic, understated feeling, like an Eiffel Tower duplicate made of gossamer, seen at night with minimal lighting and a cool breeze making it shiver. At its best, Za7ie sounds almost like Air, though still not as multilayered; some songs recall Boards of Canada, half-awoken from their serene trance by Zazie's persistent half-whisper; and even at its less inspired, the record plays like Stromae (he of the "Alors on Danse" monster hit) doing covers of Mireille Mathieu, which also looks like a genuinely good idea here. A couple of songs do not seem to be mandatory inclusions, especially "Amazone," which appears to be here simply because every Francophone album needs a waltz, but it breaks the otherwise smooth flow of the music (all the more impressive in its cohesiveness since it is actually pieced together from a bunch of EPs). The album's sweetness may be too much for some, as Zazie explicitly uses her elegance to manipulate the audience's feelings, but that seductive allure is also the best thing about this album, which sounds robotic without losing a human touch, like a futuristic love story told through downtempo pop music.