Shelter is a surprise. It’s like Alcest decided to gaze at the sky instead of at their shoes. Songs sail through white fluffy clouds in an ocean of blue. Sometimes it’s so dream poppy that you might think, “What the fuck is this? M83??” The album cover should have tipped us off: sun glare bursting through two pairs of arms, one hand stretched to the heavens. Looking at it, you’d swear it’s 2010 and you’re on MDMA listening to chillwave. And it’s appropriate. Shelter is so light as to be aerial. It’s a soundtrack for summer night car rides on the way to the beach. Emma Watson could listen to it while poking her head out the sunroof, pretending to fly through a tunnel. “L’éveil des muses” is about as dark as it gets, and even then the night is lit up with white and yellow squares from the tower buildings of a neo-goth city populated by sexy vampires. The title track sounds like a day where there is nothing to do and everything feels right. The only reason to dislike Shelter is if you’re morally opposed to happiness. It seems to me that, when life cuts you a break, you should ride that fucking wave.