Sunday at the Elysee Palace is the last live album of Alain Bashung, last moment of life and eternity.
Invitation intimate complicity last check unnecessary aura stellar Bashung blessed elegantly that audience to complete fidelity, "I wish you strength and love" half of this pronounced guttural voice that to the end, as will miraculously untouched, and is measured according to this memorable performance all the energy, hope and faith Alain, the thunderstruck, drew from the strong attachment to his audience exponentially in adoration. He who wished to enter with dignity in the dark it almost wanted to leave us to our fate as humans, tossed in a decade sad when our dreams, our fantasies were preparing to beg in vain, after his death, a new troubadour capable of making the torment of their souls so beautiful melodic caskets.
Sunday at the Elysee day holiday for the common man but cleverly exploited by the artisan rigorous Alain scene where apparently he felt more at home than in the tubes in which creativity somnambulistic monopolized the brain arrangers of the most finicky sound.
late metamorphosis into Leonard Cohen metaphysics, screw cap and dark suit, Alain Bashung with unfailing determination continued to travel around France to bathe in a trail of dust bright rooms filled with more and more; worshipers reassuring that put balm on the anguish of approaching death. These fans, for reasons moulted scattered in comforters anonymous but vital, do not sulk their pleasure and boasted a growing responsibility, that of maintaining the land of the living by the testimony of their admiration of the nutritional emaciated figure of genius, thanks 30 years spent in the service of grace. This constant innovation, these painful explorations in the atolls of souls atomized resulted in a work of such emotional refinement it could not find her sad end in a methodical destruction of which his body later revealed the stigmata.
Saying too many beautiful things, making us feel emotions sovereign, had come to believe Bashung immortal, by the divinely think outside world, it was not the case and we learned a sad evening in March, months painful, god of war where the sneaky brilliant interpreter of the night I lie to give up fighting.
It is no secret to anyone Blue Oil, even if slowly reveals its wonders (like any disk Bashung, he settles voluptuously in the swamps of our interpretations eager) was an uneven album, which ended in a hurry and marbled stylistic hesitation. Listening to these tours decisive, it qualifies this by magnifying obviously bitter suddenly this mixed picture, leveling the awkwardness of writing with praise in intimate relation with the absolute recognition of a talent free of any challenge. Whatever system erected in these environments, some questionable songs in pen, through the courage shown by the singer is more than a lesson in grace, is now a point of no return on which any a generation of songwriters will now have to calibrate its claims at issue. Sunday at the Élysée : Like a Lego - I missed you - Today at Sousse - Volunteer - My Prisons - Samuel Hall - Venus - At night, I lie - I'll kill the pianist - Light Out - My arms - To the eye - Happe - I spend a caravan - Everybody's Talkin '- Josephine Dare - Military Costume - Mrs dream - To Bill (Calamity Jane, a duet with Chloe Mons) - Vertigo Of Love - Mix - Angora - Nights in White Satin ( Barclay Records - Universal)
