From France
Recommended if you like Eddie Chacon, the Sweet Enoughs, Chet Baker
Up next Full-length album due later this year
Perhaps you are listening to a lot of Mongolian-French harp music featuring hauntingly beautiful Mongolian-language vocals about the natural treasures of the Earth, in which case Céline Dessberg will be old news to you and you can move along. For the rest of us though, she’s a revelation. Taking inspiration from all aspects of her heritage, you’ll find traces of Buddhism, the Mongolian countryside, Chet Baker and David Byrne woven through her songs in a sound that’s classic, old as the hills and refreshingly new all at once.
Her standout track to date is Chintamani, the B-side to her 2025 single Selenge. Over three minutes and 32 seconds of bliss, Dessberg mixes the yatga (a traditional Mongolian zither-harp hybrid) with old-Hollywood vocal backing and a waltz rhythm that puts it somewhere between a chaste slow-dance at prom in the 50s and the feeling of stepping into a cool, clear lake in the blazing midday sun. In Dessberg’s hands, the yatga is playful, angelic and makes you want to use words like “frolicking”. Her voice is rich and often deep, but on Chintamani it has a childlike quality too: a wide-eyed awe at the beauty of her homeland.
Last year’s EP Hödöö is mostly in French and it feels much more nostalgic – close your eyes and you’ll see black-and-white Nouvelle Vague waifs swaying in your mind. But on both releases, the warmth of Dessberg’s voice is irresistible. Even if the last vestiges of GCSE French (or Mongolian) fail you, this is music that gets you right in the heartstrings. Kate Solomon
This week’s best new tracks
Sudan Archives – My Type
Far from her breakout stately cello-based music, here Brittney Parks is starry-eyed as she admires a carefree high-flyer, her romantic rapped verses giving way to a rapturous chorus swirl.
Water From Your Eyes – Playing Classics
Deadpan NYC club classicism and tight-jawed hi-NRG get dragged towards a ditch of distortion in a strangely addictive confection that couldn’t be by anyone but the Chicago duo.
Olof Dreijer – Iris
The former Knife member’s solo material has grown increasingly mischievous and alive over several great EPs. Iris is all clicking joints and waterslide-bright slipperiness as it reaches towards ravey expansiveness.
Pile – Bouncing in Blue
Feel like giving up? Rick Maguire can relate, sketching the fine line between control and surrender as the Boston band build from muted incantation to cathartic cacophony.
They Are Gutting a Body of Water – Trainers
Fancy some more disaffection, perhaps where alt-rock meets hardcore? This crunchy Philly band have your back (and in frontman Douglas Dulgarian’s label, which released early work by Wednesday and MJ Lenderman, great taste, too).
Sam Prekop – Light Shadow
The Sea and Cake man returns to his dependable side gig, producing gorgeous modular synth meditations – albeit this time skewing unusually clubby, teasing intermittently dreamy and impish motifs over a propulsive pulse.
Molly Nilsson – How Much Is the World?
Communist philosopher and synth-pop doyenne, the Swede evokes the greatest cold war pop star that never was: here she questions what life is worth on a bittersweet ballad. [Not on Spotify: listen here]
Subscribe to the Guardian’s rolling Add to Playlist selections on Spotify.