Air are one of those bands that most people know that they like, but also know very little about. Perhaps it's because of their style of music; perhaps it's because of the nature of that style, or maybe the duo are just simply naturally enigmatic. Whatever the cause, the mystery surrounding Jean-Benoit Dunckel and Nicolas Godin only adds to their appeal. Their 1998 debut proper, Moon Safari, was a groundbreaking and celebrated creation; one of the first acts to marry the electronica, lounge and chillout genres so ingeniously, tracks like Sexy Boy and All I Need saw Godin and Dunckel lauded by critics and fans alike. Constantly adapting their style to suit concepts and trends, the succeeding albums were equally inventive, if not quite as successful (10,000hz Legend, we mean you). Pocket Symphony sees the duo more or less go back to basics - laid-back, spacey, electro-tinged dream soundtracks - but this time, incorporating traditional Japanese instruments (the shamisen, which is similar to a three-stringed banjo, and the koto, a floor harp). There aren't any instantly moving or immediate tracks on Pocket Symphony - it's more of a slow-burning, atmospheric grower that mellows with each listen - but star turns from Jarvis Cocker and Neil Hannon don't do it any harm, either. Opener Space Maker's loungey swirl is similar to La Femme D'Argent, with its subtle bass twang and clipped drumbeat; Cocker's trademark weary nonchalance is superbly suited to the downbeat, piano-focused One Hell of A Party; the darker Mayfair Song is replete with a hazy swarm of vocal harmonies over its oppressively sad track, while Neil Hannon's deep croon is well-suited to sumptuous, string-laden ballad Somewhere Between Waking and Sleeping. Although there's not a single bad song here, it doesn't quite reach the dizzy heights that Air are capable of. Still, if it's sophisticated, ethereal pop songs you're after, this particular collection of symphonies will indeed, fit neatly into your pocket.
