Tako Tsubo by L’Impératrice
Imagine if Daft Punk threw a disco party in space and invited Phoenix, only to discover they’d also booked an existential crisis. That’s Tako Tsubo—a sleek, groovy record that somehow makes heartbreak feel like a glittering, neon dream.
L’Impératrice (French for “The Empress”) returns with Tako Tsubo, their second full-length album, a blend of nu-disco, French pop, and city pop influences that channels 70s and 80s nostalgia while remaining firmly futuristic. Named after a Japanese term for “broken heart syndrome” (because who doesn’t love a good emotional implosion?), the album explores emotional extremes through a kaleidoscope of funky basslines, shimmering synths, and sultry vocals. It’s a record designed to get your hips swaying while your mind contemplates the meaning of love, loss, and life’s little absurdities.
The production on Tako Tsubo is pure ear candy, with glossy, sun-drenched layers of funk that make you feel like you’ve been whisked away to a retro-futuristic Paris nightclub. From the infectious groove of “Anomalie bleue” to the sweeping atmospherics of “Submarine,” the album doesn’t hold back on lush instrumentation. Producer Neel Pogue (of TLC and Tyler, the Creator fame) lends the album a polished, almost cinematic sheen, creating a sonic universe where synths glisten like disco balls, and basslines bounce with joyous precision . It’s an album that flirts with maximalism but never overstays its welcome—think bold, but not brash, like drinking champagne through a straw while lying on a velvet couch.
Though Tako Tsubo is musically bright, its lyrical content adds depth, tackling themes of vulnerability, societal pressures, and the quest for self-acceptance. Songs like “Peur des filles” take on gender stereotypes with a tongue-in-cheek bravado, all while set to a spooky, playful beat that feels like the soundtrack to a haunted house party . Then there’s “L’équilibriste,” a track about the precarious balancing act of being an artist, navigating between passion and societal expectations. The lyrics, alternating between French and English, offer a soft-spoken rebellion—it’s as if they’re slipping clever critiques into your ear while you’re too busy dancing to notice.
“Peur des filles” stands out for its blend of social commentary and infectious rhythm, making you question your assumptions about gender roles while you’re lost in the groove. “Submarine” is another gem, a melancholic yet beautifully layered track that was produced during the pandemic, offering a distant, dreamy escape that pairs isolation with introspection. And “Souffle au cœur,” with its delicate piano intro and instrumental build-up, is the perfect palate cleanser before the album dives back into its groovier offerings.
The album feels like a journey—not in the sense of a clear narrative arc, but more like you’re floating through a series of emotional snapshots. Each song ebbs and flows into the next with a fluidity that feels deliberate, making the album less a collection of tracks and more a fully immersive experience. There’s a sense of cohesion despite the occasional genre-hopping, from disco to funk to atmospheric pop. If there’s one minor gripe, it’s that by the time you get to the later tracks, you might find yourself longing for a bit more of the wild experimentation found at the album’s start. But hey, even a smooth ride could use a few bumps.
Tako Tsubo is like the soundtrack to a night spent spinning under a disco ball, where you’re smiling on the outside but quietly mulling over life’s heavier moments. It has the same bittersweet charm as remembering a perfect summer that you know you’ll never get back. Even its breeziest moments carry an emotional undercurrent, leaving you both buoyant and reflective. If you’ve ever danced through heartbreak, this album will feel like an oddly comforting companion.
L’Impératrice fans will no doubt revel in the band’s evolving sound, but the album’s appeal stretches further—anyone with a taste for disco revival, synth-pop, or even indie pop will find something to love here. It’s the kind of record you can throw on at a party, or listen to alone while contemplating life’s bigger questions (preferably with a glass of wine). New listeners might be drawn in by the slick production and catchy beats, but it’s the emotional depth that will keep them hitting repeat.
Tako Tsubo is a glimmering, groove-laden record that manages to make emotional turmoil sound like a good time. It’s introspective without being dour, funky without being frivolous—a dazzling blend of retro chic and modern heartache. If you’re looking for an album that moves both your feet and your soul, this is it. Let L’Impératrice rule your playlist—you won’t regret it.
