Julien Racine describes Comedia as his first (and most likely last) lounge release. A definition that, although based in irony, also gestates a tiny and playful act of reprisal. The story goes that, as the puzzling experience of hearing his sample-based abstractions described as somewhat lounge-adjacent kept repeating, the Montreal-based artist found himself in pandemic times drawn to a set of online radio channels specializing in luscious chill-out vibes and comfy new age-y beats. An interest also tinted by nostalgia, reminiscent of the Café Del Mar compilation CDs that often crossed his parents’ stereo.

Aided by a VST tool for intercepting digital radio streams within DAWs, Racine operated as if scanning through the airwaves, catching glimpses and ghosts of the kitschy psychedelic downtempo beats he had developed an interest in. He then proceeded to strip them down of all their cheesy exoticisms and spiritual gimmicks to actually mutate their most basic skeletal elements into new creatures whose beauty is complemented by a taste for playful destruction. At the same time, Racine used his own means to recreate the atmosphere and palette of the music he was drawing from.

The theme carries out this theme throughout the whole record, with just the intro and the brief interlude “Entracte Des Musiciens” functioning as more delicate palate cleansers (or trou Normand) between the spicy acts of the Comedia. Delicate and elegant FM synth notes often overlap the grindingly saturated interceptions of downtempo beats, demonstrating how any type of sources can titillate the creativity of an active mind. The Comedian might be dead, but the comedy goes on.