After Vadim Vernay to the House of Culturememorable, for a half week of insolent perfection, is in the Moons that I found myself this Friday evening, attracted by the proposed poster. Princess Chelsea to open, Findlay to close, it gets worse and after cursing the closing of the bridge adjacent to quai Bélu, I parked my tire at the foot of the Léo Lagrange cultural center. Though early, I hurried and stood in front of the moon window, waiting with relative patience for the fiery Marie to hand me over to my seat. Two words exchanged with Ilan, a local technician, and I enter a room with surprisingly (even if ..) female presences tonight. In Pelforth (I struggle continuously, when ordering, to make a choice even a little tried) after, Princess Chelsea “from New Zealand” allows himself the audacity to seduce the public, a lot Breeders (it’s a compliment, you’ll understand) to the key. It will all be fine, states their latest work. That’s right, everything is going in the best way. Melodic or more acute, the group superimposes the chosen pieces. It’s cool, it’s pop but it stings, swerves and the guitars get loud (The forest). I evacuate my week, to the sound of a click between sugar and lemon. It’s perfect, I can already say that I did well to introduce myself.
Princess Chelsea.
I shake my head with satisfaction, dedicated to my passion. The life. I bravely resist the call of the second jump. I had already seen Findlay in my city, the opportunity to Festiv’art. 2016, dates back but whatever, I was there! Arnaud, one of his pillars, is also part of this evening. I try, in vain, to catch his attention. This little game has passed, Findlay and his charming face hit the boards. It is a large set, pop and rock but diversified, what we are offered. Nothing to say, it takes shades or rough, or electro, sometimes Blondiesques. The guitars roar, Night sweats enlivens the bazaar as in a parade. Many, let’s face it, are the strong titles. The last girls of the 20th century, which dates back to May, cheers up our mid-October. Singing in French, on excellent Return (in the title) and The Parisian (in the song), he invites himself. The keyboards, present, weave interweaving that we appreciate. Not if you were the last honey on earth it will summon us, if you follow me you will understand the Dandy Warhols. Findlay is crying, I don’t understand why. There was a time when I was fluent in English. That time is over. It is moving, sincere. His colleagues hug him. She regains the upper hand, in the crowd an eccentric tries in vain to be the leader.
Findlay.
Oh yes, forgive me. Three people follow him, he will surely say there were about a hundred. I rhyme, I never learned to write despite the desire of an emissary of the Post Picard, there was a time when I read an article where I scratched one or two artists considered “boring”. I promise you, my dear … to do it again! You can sleep upset, my pen will continue to tickle you unpleasantly and my generous ink will stain your blouse. In short. The news is not the same as saying that everything is good, describing without relief, saying good things to attract favors. Findlay attracts ours. Mission accomplished, when courage overwhelms me I will add my note to these notebooks where, lazily, I record my memories live. That of the two aforementioned formations will appear rightly, it goes without saying, as regards the unanimously recognized value of the respective services.
Findlay.
Photos Will Dum.
