‘Multitude’ Review: Stromae Returns with Playful Wisdom

After an eight-year hiatus from solo work, Belgian rapper Stromae has triumphantly re-emerged with “Multitude,” a boisterous album that proves he hasn’t lost his trademark talent for infusing vivacious electro-pop anthems with sharp social commentary. Released on March 4, the Belgian singer-songwriter’s third studio album puts forth 12 masterfully crafted songs that can be appreciated without understanding a word of French. From the Chinese erhu to the Bolivian charango, “Multitude” weaves together sounds and styles from all corners of the world in an eccentric amalgamation that makes for a striking listening experience based on instrumentals alone. But as Stromae shines brightest for his unique subject matter, spending time with the clever lyricism elevates his music to the special status it deserves.

There is a palpable maturity present in “Multitude” that marks Stromae’s growth since his earlier work. Perhaps this wisdom comes from fatherhood, as he and his wife welcomed a son in 2018. While he famously sang from a child’s perspective on his 2013 hit “Papaoutai,” Stromae flips the narrative and takes on the father figure himself in “C’est que de bonheur.” Rather than parroting the party line that “c’est d’la joie” / “it’s only joy,” Stromae is upfront about the brutal reality of “le métier d’parent” / “the profession of parenting.” He raps about the toll childbirth has on his wife and gripes about smelly diapers and vomit. The melody underscores that supposed “endless joy” with a cheerful hook of swinging vocals and a bouncy beat courtesy of Caribbean percussion. But by overlapping this catchy tune with bitter lines about pee and poop, Stromae fills the piece with a rich irony that pits the idealized fantasy of parenting against its exhausting actuality.

Back in October, Stromae released the lead single of the album, “Santé,” which raises a glass “à ceux qui n’en ont pas” / “to those who don't have one.” As the peppiest number on the tracklist, “Santé” celebrates all of the “champions des pires horaires” / “champions of the worst schedules” — the cleaners, the servers, the nurses, and others. In line with the spirit of this song, Stromae takes those who are often overlooked and places them in the spotlight throughout the album. For example, in “Fils de joie,” he sings about a sex worker through the viewpoints of a client, her manager, and a policeman — highlighting how each character is complicit in a system that places stigma solely on women. The choruses share the perspective of her son, who defends his mother with pride while critiquing that “tout l’monde ferme les yeux” / “everybody closes their eyes.” Leaving listeners on edge with a riveting violin strain, the song forces one’s eyes open through the gut-wrenching lyrics sung in guttural intonations. Advocating for those who are too frequently the target of shame rather than support, “Fils de joie” is Stromae at his best.

“Multitude” tends to extract witty depth from surprising places. In “Mauvaise journée,” Stromae dwells on the days when he can’t escape the malaise, complaining, “Y a mon caca qui a mal fini / J’vais devoir frotter une heure et demie” or, “There’s my poo that ended badly / I’m going to have to scrub for an hour and a half.” Complete with whining warbles and overflowing phrases that emulate the frustration of mundanity, this penultimate track sets up its partner song, “Bonne journée,” which closes out the album on a promising note. This time around, “le caca est parfait, même pas besoin qu’je l’essuie” / “the poop is perfect, I do not even need to wipe it.” Ah yes, the duality of poop; only Stromae can manage to wax meaningful verses about the woes of wiping.

Larger than that, however, this fecal metaphor is emblematic of the overall tone of the album. In “Multitude,” listeners are often reminded that life is, well, shitty. Stromae’s tracklist meditates on inescapable depression, unfaithful partners, and unbearable loneliness. There are no false pretenses or sugar-coated reveries, and yet there is an ever-present undercurrent of optimism lingering behind all of that gloom. It is in fact by acknowledging these dark realities in the first place, and doing so with heartfelt lyrics over thrilling refrains, that Stromae manages to leave us basking in the light.