Saint Etienne Throw Themselves a Retirement Dance Party

In terms of wide appeal and commercial success, Saint Etienne always deserved better. The U.K. trio emerged in the early Nineties with a cosmopolitan sound that thrived on a subtle tension: their appetite for clubby anthems contrasted an obsession with the silky contours of retro British pop – think Dusty Springfield, or the jet set mystique of John Barry movie themes. 1998’s Good Humor and 2000’s Sound of Water were the kind of introspective records that made you feel nostalgic about the present. Subsequent albums became more experimental – last year’s The Night was a whispered descent into the slo-mo pleasures of ambient art-pop.

Now that its members are approaching 60, Etienne is calling it a day. Their 13^th album, International, interprets the ritual of early retirement sendoff as a boisterous dance party with plenty of music royalty cameos showing up to pay their respects. On opening track “Glad,” featuring the Chemical Brothers’ Tom Rowlands and Doves guitarist Jez Williams, the band revisits its Nineties zeitgeist with Britpop guitar, euphoric synths, and a ragged, thumping downbeat. Sarah Cracknell’s voice is tempered with a touch of honeyed grit, but has lost none of of its ability to convey the bittersweet aftertaste of romantic loss.

Etienne’s aesthetic has always trafficked in the conventions of dance-pop, but their songs are hopeful and wide-eyed, avoiding any hints of hedonistic decadence. There is an aura of late summer innocence about the icy synth-pop of “Two Lovers,” a duet with Vince Clarke, and the stark acid jazz edges of “Take Me To The Pilot.” A melancholy gem, “Fade” combines a trip-hop beat with delicate orchestral textures.

Two years ago, Etienne keyboardist and author Bob Stanley published a biography of The Bee Gees, and a few moments on International reflect the craftsmanship of vintage pop-rock. A collaboration with Haircut 100’s Nick Heyward yields a lovely Eighties time capsule that opens with a luscious keyboard flourish, then becomes darkly atmospheric on the bridge – you can almost imagine the accompanying music video, circa 1986. By the time we reach the wispy, aptly titled “The Last Time,” Etienne’s message becomes loud and clear. This is a band at the height of its powers that could have easily continued making great records, and instead chose not to. The exuberant creative highs that fuel International are both devastatingly sad and the best possible farewell.