ALBUM REVIEW: Celine Cairo – Panacea

“I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety my whole adult life, and in recent years found relief in letting go of that insatiable search for happiness and peace.” So says Celine Cairo, whose album Panacea is not a panacea, though it will make you happy. It’s the Amsterdam-based artist’s third album, and after listening to the first few minutes of it, you’ll be plotting your purchase of the previous two.  

The gentle verses of the title track are given extra life by India Bourne’s wonderful strings, and the chorus is as calmly determined and eloquent as The Paper Kites in their subdued pomp: “And I’ve felt the counterflow / Moving through me like an antidote / My head’s above the water now.” A Thomas Newman-like interlude bleeds into ‘Cycles’, which could be a moody Eurovision comedown: Cairo spotlit and flanked by balletic figures pretending to be trees in a storm. “If there’s a heartbeat in everything / Tell me how to listen in” – just the sort of disarmingly gorgeous lyrics to have the whole continent swooning in admiration.

Credit: Hessel Stuut

However, if Cairo and Panacea are to achieve the acclaim they both deserve, ‘Woman’ is likely to be the most common introduction for new listeners. It has slow burning hit written all over it, which has more than a little to do with its use of the Axis chord progression. As Guitar Wiz explain: “There’s a chord progression so ubiquitous, so unbelievably common, that a comedy group called Axis of Awesome performed a medley of 36 hit songs using nothing but this single four-chord pattern.” Make that 37 songs – ‘Woman’ can be added to the likes of ‘Let It Be’, ‘With or Without You’, and ‘Someone Like You’. It’s no small compliment to say that ‘Woman’ is as epic as those classics. Cairo’s vocals are immaculate throughout, though shoutout in particular to the way she sings “woman ooh woman” at the end, which will make you sob into your cornflakes or draw attention to yourself on the tube.

As the PR for Panacea states, ‘Feel’ is ‘reminiscent of a downtempo 90s sound’. If it had been written thirty years ago, it could have soundtracked a scene featuring a maudlin Gwyneth Paltrow contemplating the intricacies of fate or the benefits of staying in a hotel near a park and a Palestinian graveyard. Similarly, ‘Paris’ can be described as the sound of walking in an unfamiliar city at night, feeling alone yet elated by endless possibilities. The song began as a poem ‘scribbled on a train home after 48 disorienting hours in the city with someone Celine barely knew’. We’ve all been there.

If you’ve been through breakup recently, tread carefully with ‘The Great Divide’, which may be a form of solidarity or a reminder of pain. Likewise, on ‘Vertigo’ Cairo keeps “thinking of the good times / And all the hope I carried for us,” though the beat and catchy chorus may be enough to banish your own blues. The chorus on ‘I Am I’ is pure Emili Sandé, so take a deep breath and be prepared to wake up the neighbours with your heroic singalong. ‘Coral Skies Interlude’ could be Aphex Twin tuning the radio (though he’s not in the album credits), and ‘Coral Skies’ would make Taylor Swift jealous.

The album ends with ‘Swallows’. Cairo says: “People at sea believed that seeing a swallow meant land was near. It’s the perfect symbol of what this song means to me – a reminder that even when you can’t always see it, land is near, and you just might be home soon.” The piano chords on ‘Swallows’ have the gravitas of The National, and the whole song has the chiming optimism of Big Thief at their most in love with the world. Music isn’t a panacea, but it’s close, and Panacea won’t make absolutely everything better, but it might.

Panacea is out now via Ivy Records

Celine Cairo: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram | YouTube

Review by Neil Laurenson

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