Now, I’m no expert – as regular readers are painfully aware – but even I can figure out exactly how Petit Fantôme translates into English.
Let’s indulge my obsession with band names for a moment (again).
Petit Fantôme is an example of a band name dovetailing snugly with an artist’s particular sound – and in Yallah we are presented with a song that is both translucently ghostlike and cutely diminutive.
There are a whole host of ways for synth-burbling songs to fail; the chief danger being that the songs often sound as if they ought to be on the Top Gun soundtrack album.
Yallah, you’ll be pleased to discover, is unlikely to play alonside images of oiled-up beefcakes playing volleyball on an aircraft carrier.
Of course, if you want to use it for such homo-erotic purposes, you’re more than welcome.
But take a moment in between feverish panting to appreciate a song that is icy but warm; inert but humane; calm but darting; born of technology but realised in the bosom of life’s irrevocable chaos. Very good.