In 1996, Philippe Zdar didn’t know what to do. Motorbass, his ascendant project with his friend and roommate Étienne de Crécy, had dissolved after Crécy packed his things and moved out of their apartment in the Montmartre district of Paris. That same year, they’d released their sole album, Pansoul, regarded today as one of the defining moments of the French house revolution. His downtime didn’t last long. Within months, Zdar linked back up with his old La Funk Mob partner Boom Bass, aka Hubert Blanc-Francard. Having bonded earlier in the decade through their shared love of hip-hop, Zdar and Boom Bass rebranded as Cassius and released their first album, 1999.
Motorbass paved the way, but ultimately it was Cassius who went the distance, bringing “French touch” to the masses alongside peers like Daft Punk. Twenty years (and one decade-long hiatus) after their debut, a new Cassius record has arrived with a heartbreaking asterisk: It will also be the duo’s final album of Zdar’s lifetime. Two days before it was to be released, the news broke that he had accidentally fallen through a window in Paris and died. He was 52 years old.
Thus Dreems is a bittersweet homecoming. With their sights locked back onto the dancefloor, Cassius sound reinvigorated. Arranging the record like a cinematic DJ mix, Zdar and Blanc-Francard pare back the kitchen-sink maximalism of their Balearic-tinged concept album Ibifornia. Instead, they adopt a more back-to-basics approach: kick, snare, hat, and bassline take priority.
“Summer” is a wistful opener, cut from the same emotional cloth as the Zdar-produced Phoenix masterpiece “Love Like a Sunset Pt. 1.” The downtempo cruiser “Vedra,” tailor-made for the late-night coastal drive, evaporates into a crispy vocal sample that sets the stage for the album’s first real banger, “Fame.” Throughout Dreems, Cassius make strides to remind us that they could always keep pace with the new breed of producers, many of whom were reared on their work.
“Calliope” is a bass-heavy belter that wouldn’t sound out of place during any peak-hour club set. Elsewhere, returning collaborator John Gourley (of Portugal. The Man) crops up on the ’80s pastiche “Nothing About You,” his otherwise bothersome timbre softened with immaculate double-tracking, while Beastie Boys’ Mike D lends manic energy to “Cause oui!” Cassius balance their guests with poise, manipulating their voices to feel as if they’ve been sampled off some long-forgotten record and rarely allowing the vocals to dominate the mix.
The notable exception is the title track, with its hypnotic dembow rhythm and heartfelt refrain. French singer Owlle is the most prominent guest vocalist on the album, with three separate features, and Cassius give her room for an impeccable performance. “Never before I had someone like you right by my side,” Owlle sighs on the chorus. She and Luke Jenner of the Rapture pair together in an unlikely complement on the hook, singing, “You make me want to dream,” their distinct voices made one within the blend.
The lyric feels like a fitting tribute to Zdar, a man who connected so many threads of dance, indie, and hip-hop to help realize masterpieces that changed countless lives. The day before the album’s release, that much was clear when the producer’s compatriots and admirers around the world openly mourned his death. Those who were close to him shared stories of not only his incredible studio wisdom, but also the love he held for his family and the empathy that he brought to his collaborators, all of whom could earnestly call him a friend. It is an immense tragedy that Zdar didn’t get to witness the release of this album with Boom Bass; the two had been steadfast creative partners ever since they were young studio rats trying to scrape together enough experience to make the music they heard in their heads. Cassius may come to a close, but in Dreems, they offer a worthy capstone for a well-lived life: a celebration of love, an uncynical outburst of the kind of joy that feels rarer to come by with each passing day.
