Le Couleur Credit: Gabrielle Demers

Montreal synth-pop trio Le Couleur delve into some disturbing history on their new album, Concorde, named for the supersonic airliner that in the 1970s made it possible for elite jet-setters to leave their European estates and arrive at Manhattan nightclubs after as little as three hours in the air. Midway through the record’s title track, the group deliver a gut-punching reminder of the great stain on the Concorde’s legacy: a fuel-tank explosion on a 2000 Air France flight that left no survivors. (The plane was retired from service in 2003.) As singer and keyboardist Laurence Giroux-Do told online magazine Âught last month, the album concept was inspired by all the ups and the downs of the Concorde’s story: “We were fascinated by the Concorde: its symbolism, its sexy look, its crash.” Drummer Steeven Chouinard and bassist Patrick Gosselin add soft but precise nu-disco beats to the album’s sophisticated, sometimes dreamy dance pop, and their tight interplay works magically on “Train de Minuit” (which could easily be confused for a Giorgio Moroder classic) and the instrumental “Vol d’Après-midi.” Giroux-Do accompanies the swanky grooves with sad, introspective lyrics suffused with memories of love lost, sung entirely in French—like the Concorde, Le Couleur evoke a posh and perfect moment in time.   v