C’était l’été indien mercredi soir à Paris pour le retour de Band of Skulls dans la capitale. Boucle bouclée : après un concert plébiscité à la Flèche d’Or en janvier, le trio de Southampton venait faire ses au-revoir au public parisien dans la salle qui les avait accueillis dix mois auparavant. En moins d’un an, Band Of Skulls est devenu un groupe majeur de la scène rock internationale. Preuve en est : il n’est encore que 16 heures et pourtant, un groupe de fans fait déjà la queue devant la salle. A l’ouverture des portes, c’est une masse impressionnante de gens que l’on voit s’étirer sur le trottoir pour un concert sold out .
Il fait chaud, très chaud même dans la salle quand à 20h50 montent sur scène les français de The Good Ones. Pendant quarante minutes, ils vont balancer un rock énergique et brut, entre riffs late 60s et hargne mancunienne . Dans la salle, ça pogote et ça se tord le cou pour mieux apercevoir la chanteuse frangée, qui, micro à la main, livre une vraie bataille en première ligne pour la reconnaissance de son groupe. Le public apprécie visiblement la majorité des titres et sera même gratifié de la reprise Black Math des White Stripes en fin de set.
A 22 heures, dans une salle devenue un vrai sauna où chacun cherche ses potes au milieu d’une brume étouffante, les Band Of Skulls montent sur scène. Visiblement ravis de retrouver leur public- Emma, chanteuse et bassiste arborait fièrement un T-shirt sur lequel on pouvait lire du bout de la salle « Merci beaucoup » - et toujours aussi surpris de l’accueil triomphal qu’ils reçoivent, le trio frappe et martèle ses titres phares. Le premier rang est passablement écrasé par les apprentis photographes dans la foule qui tentent une percée pour avoir le meilleur cliché du groupe. Plus rock, plus rauque, plus couillue qu’au Nouveau Casino, la prestation des Band Of Skulls est une vraie leçon : oui, le rock doit être chevelu, collant, transpirant. Au bout de deux titres, on se dit qu'il faut absolument tenter une incursion au beer garden sous peine de mourir asphyxié aux pieds de Russell Marsden, guitariste émérite du groupe. Loin d’être seuls, on se retrouve à une bonne cinquantaine, noyés de la tête au pied, à reprendre ses esprits en écoutant Friends avant de réattaquer, en douceur, sur Fires- perle blues sur l'album qui prend toute sa dimension en live. Ce titre démontre à quel point Russell et Emma se connaissent sur le bout des cordes- vocales et instrumentales- et l'enchaînement assassin, identique à l'album, Light, Diamonds, I know What I Am finit d'achever les presque six cents heureux présents à la Flèche d'Or ce soir-là.
Malgré quelques longueurs vers la fin avec Blood ou Hollywood, c'est vidé, échevelé, hagard et béatement souriant que l'on sort de ce concert, croisant au passage l'un ou l'autre membre du groupe qui ne semble pas réaliser la puissance de la claque rock qu'il vient de nous infliger.
A 23 heures et avec 12 titres au compteur, les Band Of Skulls ont livré leur ultime performance de l’année sur le sol français. Il se dit déjà qu’ils pourraient revenir rapidement avec un second album et quelques dates estivales en Europe. 2011, on t'attend.
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It was a proper Indian summer night in Paris last Wednesday for the concert of Band of Skulls. The circle had come to an end: after a first praised gig at la Flèche d'Or in January, the Southampton three were back in town for their goodbyes to the parisian public in the venue that had seen them rise to fame. In less than a year, Band Of Skulls has become a truly major band on the international rock scene. Proof: there were already young teenage fans queuing at 4pm. When the doors opened, it was just an impressive mass of people that was spreading on the pavement for a sold-out gig.
It was hot, freaking hot, in the venue when at 8:50 the French band The Good Ones came on stage. During 40 minutes, they flung an energetic and rough rock n' roll made of late 60s riffs and mancunian swag. In the venue, it was all about jumping and trying to catch a glimpse of the female singer who, with her microphone in hand, was fighting her own personal battle for the recognition of her band. The public obvioulsy appreciated the songs and was even congratulated of their good performance with a cover of Black Math by the White Stripes at the end of the set.
10pm, in a venue that had turned into a sauna where everyone was looking for a friend in the middle of a stifling fog, Band of Skulls walked on stage. Happy to be back in front of their beloved public – Emma Richardson was even wearing a « Merci beaucoup » (Thanks a lot) T-shirt- and always surprised of such a triumphant welcome, the musicians hit and banged and scratched and shouted their flagship tunes. The first row was completely smashed out by photographers who were reaching out for the best picture of the band. A lot more rock n' roll and with a lot more balls, this concert was pure watch and learnyes, definitely, rock n' roll must be hairy, sticky and sweaty.
After two songs, we decided to move to the beer garden to avoid death by asphyxiation right at Russell Marsden's feet- though it might have been quite a lovely death for some. And we were not the only one to be wet from head to toes. About fifty persons were there, looking down into their glasses listening to Friends before rushing back, slowly though, on Fires – perfect blues nugget on the album and live. If there's a song that demonstrates how much Russell and Emma musically know each other, it is this one. And the killing line of Light, Diamonds, I know What I Am was just enough to replete the eardrums of the 600 happy gig goers.
Despite some low moments towards the end with Blood and Hollywood, it is totally empty, dishevelled, dazed and blissfully smiling that we all came out of the venue, meeting on our way out members of the band who didn't seem to realise the power of the rock n' roll slap they had just given us.
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It was a proper Indian summer night in Paris last Wednesday for the concert of Band of Skulls. The circle had come to an end: after a first praised gig at la Flèche d'Or in January, the Southampton three were back in town for their goodbyes to the parisian public in the venue that had seen them rise to fame. In less than a year, Band Of Skulls has become a truly major band on the international rock scene. Proof: there were already young teenage fans queuing at 4pm. When the doors opened, it was just an impressive mass of people that was spreading on the pavement for a sold-out gig.
It was hot, freaking hot, in the venue when at 8:50 the French band The Good Ones came on stage. During 40 minutes, they flung an energetic and rough rock n' roll made of late 60s riffs and mancunian swag. In the venue, it was all about jumping and trying to catch a glimpse of the female singer who, with her microphone in hand, was fighting her own personal battle for the recognition of her band. The public obvioulsy appreciated the songs and was even congratulated of their good performance with a cover of Black Math by the White Stripes at the end of the set.
10pm, in a venue that had turned into a sauna where everyone was looking for a friend in the middle of a stifling fog, Band of Skulls walked on stage. Happy to be back in front of their beloved public – Emma Richardson was even wearing a « Merci beaucoup » (Thanks a lot) T-shirt- and always surprised of such a triumphant welcome, the musicians hit and banged and scratched and shouted their flagship tunes. The first row was completely smashed out by photographers who were reaching out for the best picture of the band. A lot more rock n' roll and with a lot more balls, this concert was pure watch and learnyes, definitely, rock n' roll must be hairy, sticky and sweaty.
After two songs, we decided to move to the beer garden to avoid death by asphyxiation right at Russell Marsden's feet- though it might have been quite a lovely death for some. And we were not the only one to be wet from head to toes. About fifty persons were there, looking down into their glasses listening to Friends before rushing back, slowly though, on Fires – perfect blues nugget on the album and live. If there's a song that demonstrates how much Russell and Emma musically know each other, it is this one. And the killing line of Light, Diamonds, I know What I Am was just enough to replete the eardrums of the 600 happy gig goers.
Despite some low moments towards the end with Blood and Hollywood, it is totally empty, dishevelled, dazed and blissfully smiling that we all came out of the venue, meeting on our way out members of the band who didn't seem to realise the power of the rock n' roll slap they had just given us.
At 11pm and after 12 songs, Band Of Skulls had delivered their ultimate gig on French soil. The rumour has it they could rapidly be back with a second album and some summer festival gigs. 2011? We're waiting for you.
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