Mick Harvey - Intoxicated Women (LP) - Red Vinyl

Mick Harvey’s Intoxicated Women arrived in January 2017 on Mute, the fourth chapter in his long, loving dialogue with Serge Gainsbourg’s catalog. The series began with Intoxicated Man in 1995, continued with Pink Elephants in 1997, reawakened with Delirium Tremens in 2016, and lands here with a clear brief. This time Harvey zeroes in on material Gainsbourg wrote for women or sang with them, and the focus suits him. You can hear the joy of a lifelong fan digging deeper into a songbook he knows by heart, and the confidence of a translator who understands when to keep a line close and when to tilt it so the meaning catches the light.

Harvey made his name in The Birthday Party and spent decades as a key hand in Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, so he knows his way around shadow and romance. On Intoxicated Women, he leans into Gainsbourg’s wit and provocation without losing the wry shrug that makes these songs feel lived in. The famous duet Je t’aime… moi non plus turns up as a German-language conversation with Berlin singer Andrea Schroeder, a sly nod to the song’s shapeshifting history and its long trail of scandal. It is not a museum piece. Harvey and Schroeder give it breath and a little chill, like a late-night conversation that runs just past closing time.

The wider set moves between yé-yé sparkle and smoky cabaret. You get tremolo guitars, brushed drums, organ that blooms at the edges, and strings that lift rather than weigh down. Harvey’s voice is hushed and steady, the kind of delivery that makes a double entendre land with more charm than smirk. He shares space with a small cast of female vocalists, including Xanthe Waite, who help reframe the material Gainsbourg wrote for stars like France Gall and Brigitte Bardot. You can hear how carefully the arrangements keep the period feel while making room for English phrasing. Rhymes are bent, not broken. Jokes still land. Heartbreak stays intact.

What makes this installment special is the framing. By gathering songs written for women and duets, Harvey highlights the way Gainsbourg wrote roles and reversals into his music. The power play shifts verse by verse. Sometimes the woman gets the knockout line; sometimes it is a weary draw. Harvey the producer gives those movements space. Nothing rushes. A bassline will hang back, find a pocket, and only then start to prowl. A vibraphone glints once and disappears. It is patient, unfussy craft.

It also feels like a true coda to the project he started in the mid 90s. The earlier records had the excitement of discovery for English-speaking listeners. With Intoxicated Women, you hear a long view. Harvey has lived inside these songs for years, on stage and in the studio, and the care shows. He does not sand down the edges. He trusts the humor, the lust, the melancholy. He trusts that we can handle a little ambiguity, and that is one of the best gifts a translator can give.

If you came to Harvey through the Bad Seeds, this sits neatly next to his solo work and his production for PJ Harvey. The pace is unhurried, the mood rich but not heavy. It is a record that rewards close listening and also plays well while you cook dinner. That balance is harder than it looks.

On the shelf, Intoxicated Women vinyl is the one I point out to fans digging into Mick Harvey vinyl for the first time. It is easy to recommend if you like the idea of hearing Gainsbourg in English without losing the spark that made the originals so addictive. If you shop a Melbourne record store on the weekend or browse vinyl records Australia at night, keep an eye out for the Mute pressing. It sits well next to other Mick Harvey albums on vinyl and is a smart choice if you plan to buy Mick Harvey records online. Search terms aside, this is simply a graceful, quietly daring record from an artist who has spent years proving that translation can be an art, not a compromise.