Say it ain’t so, Joe please, say ain’t so ... not RickyBilly! (one of the local wildlife - ed.) Holy shit, you stumble across this cackling Aztec more often than your wife, the evening will be challenging!
At 8:50 p.m., the DJ, Fred-la-Cerise, yields to those who have chosen the sixth album by The Fall as baptismal name:
Led by the cavernous voice of gentleman farmer, romantic Jez (Jeremy) Thomas, the postpunk / new wave band would sway the cavern with a set 30 minute set of singular density and depth.
Two faces recently seen with Subsonic Hornet, Elise Boënnec on bass and Ronan Collot on guitar – Francesco Carlucci on drums and razor-sharp second guitarist Guy Wilssens.
Binary drumming engages a first essay that the setlist defines as 'Trial', a voice from beyond the tomb delivers a dark discourse; guitars chime; the pumping, typically post-punk bass stamps a monolithic tempo; the frontman’s possessed gesturing beckons. He seems to be in league with some prince of darkness that haunts his nights.
Cap screwed on a threadbare head, he has all of a Dickens character furrowing through squalid London alleys in the twilight.
'Colors' One shouldn’t expect an opal beach, dark tones prevail, you’re steeping in a Joy Division / Chameleons bath.
A winter atmosphere particularly suited to the gloomy weather that has left the good people morose.
In fact, it is not by chance that Jez is called Thomas, there's Pere Ubu, British flavour in his motile, unduly mannered language.
You suspect the noble Jeremy, beyond his upright, bourgeois appearance reading the Times while returning from his job in some government department, has some clandestine engagement in satanic rituals, the narrative 'Derivatives' has everything of an incantation, clothed in dark intonations chanted at the Witches Sabbath.
Dramatics and opulance: 'Mayo'! (Everyone should have a friend like Natalie – ed.)
The mischievous shine-head picks on a poor wretch in the audience – “you know, today is Francis Rossi's (Status Quo) birthday – he’s hit the wise old age of 64, I suppose he's your favourite guitar player ... almost, I prefer Plastic Bertrand, the creature retorts... anyway it's a good reason to play ‘When I'm 64’ in a Quo stylee”, or rather 'All my mother's favourite nightmares', sharp guitars, Shelley tone, a Gothic Poem set to music!
Jacket off, skull exposed, not quite a strip act, not his style, the squire strikes a pose, sentry style.
We thought we’d seen John William Waterhouse sketching on a Jupiler box.
Solemnly, he declames a text ('Medication') to a martial drum roll while guitars shred the composition and cute Elise, on her knees, pummels the four string.
A guest for the last one, Steven Hill (Evi Vine), the hypnotic 'Pewter Eyes' Sir Thomas comes chanting sat on the steps, well before the end of this harrowing piece, and finding no solace in the applause of mere mortals, he leaves his acolytes for the stench of the city.
The highlight of a remarkable set!
From London: Evi, ethereal voice, guitar - and four multi-instrumentalists: Steven Hill (guitars, drums) - Ben Roberts (electric cello, keyboards, guitar) - Sam Astley (guitars, bass) - Ben McLees (bass, guitars , percussion).
An album, 'And so the morning comes' in a second one in gestation, several tracks on today’s menu.
Difficult to categorize: slowcore, dark / goth indie, minimal wave, some shoegaze, some trip hop, indie folk ... in bulk, PJ Harvey, Lamb, Portishead, Cocteau Twins, Hope Sandoval ...
'The Dreamers' vaporous entrance, slow and majestic, moody is most appropriate the term, a frail and haunted voice, with Kate Bush intonations, wanders into this fluffy fleece universe dominated by the mournful cello.
Fragile – handle with care!
'Inside her', Steven strokes his instrument with a bow, Evi’s voice becomes Mazzy Star, the moods created merge the universes of Lamb and Sigur Ros, as for the pictures, they are impregnated with a Byronic romanticism ... And the touch of her skin feels like heaven! ...
'Hands are tied' is a new song, same atmospheric and melancholic soundscape.
The ballad 'If it's love', with subtle arrangements and an immaterial voice, takes her closer to Beth Gibbons.
'For You', a track from an EP, a slow lovesong of chilling beauty, before the spooky 'I let you leave', crammed full of psychedelic effects.
Where postrock meets Jefferson Airplane, a surprising but effective cocktail.
Another new one, 'Starlight', she seems to want to wander paths used by Bat for Lashes and Florence and the Machine, and the final piece is still untitled.
Evi abandons her instrument, grabs the microphone with both hands and whispers a haunting cold wave lament.
It took her 30 minutes to sign the pile of albums snapped up after this fascinating concert.
Evi Vine tonight in Liege, then the mini-tour ends with three dates in Germany!
Interview with Evi & Steve by the Blackmarquis: