Eric Chenaux's music is a tricky thing to classify. His endlessly inventive balladry is informed by jazz, improv, and folk, and is played out via his idiosyncratic electrified acoustic guitar playing and clear vocals. Despite the preconception that experimental music can be trying and dark, it feels affectionate and lush in this instance. Slowly Paradise proves to be an apt title for a record that refuses to be rushed.
Picture yourself on a balcony. The stars are out, and you can actually see them, because someone has stretched time out like a slinky to meet you here. This someone can't be seen, per say - you have to trust that the goblets and the bottle of red left on the table was his handiwork, and that the second chair holds more than a freshly clipped rose. But this hour is yours, at least - whether he's here or not, you can at least claim that.