Mandarine showcases Ex Vitae as adept navigators of a particularly French musical crossroads. The album’s tracks often begin with direct, song‑centric gestures – clear vocal lines, acoustic guitar, a melodic hook – before dissolving into extended harmonic side‑paths or instrumental codas that hint at jazz and progressive rock. Keys and winds lend a soft‑focused warmth; electric guitar and rhythm section occasionally push things toward rougher terrain, but never tip the mood into outright aggression.

Lyrically and sonically, the record cultivates a sense of gentle estrangement. Everyday scenes are described in slightly skewed language; chords slide to unexpected destinations; odd time signatures appear without fanfare, more as a way of breathing differently than as a display of cleverness. The titular “Mandarine” suggests both sweetness and faint bitterness, a duality that runs through the album. It is a record that favours colour and texture over bombast, rewarding listeners who enjoy finding the seams between pop, jazz and art‑rock.