PAR LES FILS DE MANDRIN

The last sound of ANGE 1st version before the explosion of prog and long songs; an album on the edge to gather before a new beginning? An album to revisit what bathed our childhood, our musical space!

1By Les Fils De Mandrin the broken twigs underfoot, the hello, we are at the dawn of a great morning! Jean-Michel is there with a riff that could pass in a hard piece, Christian reveals his aggressiveness, his delicacy, the solo with hacks from Francis and it's off to the declination, Jean-Pierre hits well; return as if nothing had happened to the verse ... sworn by the sons of Mandrin, hello, hello 2 Au Café Du Colibri continues with a cinematic country bar, yes we didn't explain it like that... before; ANGE made French GENESIS, here at the café we are in the medieval bucolic atmosphere, the one that makes you regress wisely; watch out for your queen though; Francis invites us to a bourrée, you mustn't be too drunk, in short, a little break, we don't roast anymore, an air of s I was the messiah to talk to you, you, yes you who reads here; we revisit but it is fashionable to be a tad interactive, plitschh! 3 So S'en Ira La Pluie that's it, we're entering the album, an incisive organ that plunges into the particular universe of the group, Christian with his hat, his nose wants to be a man of the theater, see the clip which has not changed; distressing title yes, these creaks that existed on the LP quickly, which we are looking for for the vintage side now, the shivering harmonica as in the future 'Delicatessen', a premonitory, latent title where we are only waiting for one thing the end of the rain for the break... pick up this trailer, a long journey begins for you... that's it, we're off with the guitar and Jean-Michel hiding to perform it like a certain Steve, any chance? 4 Autour Du Feu yes let's come back for a little musical rest; an Andalusian arpeggio and a gentle nursery rhyme; an intimate title at the start which sends me back to Peter GABRIEL's last concert which begins around a... fire; a finale where the Gypsies invite themselves to the party, it makes me yawn 5 Acrobats... fortunately Francis gets us out of this lethargy with a sound from home; ah the flute arrives at the corner of a path, hold a rabbit coming out of a jacket, hold a troubadour which crosses my path, hold my mandibles which cross a dragonfly, what is happening? a harpsichord and I find myself in fishnet stockings; I 'don't like ANGE' but I can only remain hypnotized by these words from another century where everyone rubbed shoulders without a second thought; who am i a magician? Imp of course yes with this saucy side which suits me well, in short I am bewitched to the right, to the left, to the right, to... but what is Gargantua doing? 6 Des Yeux Couleur D'enfants second side and a different sound, nasty rock, effective, ah a touch of the keyboard just what it takes to dive back into the world of ANGE; intro of more than a minute before the intimate text of Christian who will revisit the world with the eyes... of someone else, a drum roll remember this roll for the end; a cymbal, a plaintive organ, latency, prog what... the temple of a thousand lights is there right next to the guitar solo that attacks you, yes you didn't see it coming, sometimes put in the end , sometimes... for me it's like this, in short 7 Atlantis "The Giants Of The 3rd Moon" left without you realizing it, voice too far away, synth à la Serra before its time, ah maybe on JARRE... well meanwhile the giants speak to us and you have to listen.. yes I've always had trouble with this piece... that's how it is, I'm patiently waiting for the anthem, ah the great silence and a solo taken from the verse of the beef, very fat , in feedback, something that turns, that comes and goes, that passes behind me, that comes back, that's it, we're there 8 Hymn To Life: Song / Procession / Hymn or the unstoppable triptych, one of the moments, the moment of the album; dry guitars, intoxicating text, bucolic with this dew after .. the night; I adored ANGE for this kind of pieces with an inevitable crescendo, for the Mellotron well brought, for this programmed latency, for the spleen western side with the harmonica, with, with but you know it better than me. The mercenaries wear out their veils, a spider... with its web; oh you there it's easy to say that I take back snippets of speech; it calms down... for the procession, trumpets, we don't breathe... we wait, the flute brings us there perky, cheeky but surely; from light to light, flowers of paradise, it burns my eyes and the keys of the keyboards which go up, hold a voice of bilboquet there on the left and it continues to go up, the guitar gets started, well I'm going to graze, one more bilboquet, wink at you Bill; crazy I don't know but from another life why not? din ding ding the anthem comes to an end, Jean-Michel tears himself away, the adrenaline rush is frenetic, insolent given the times; majestic piece it's easy but I write it anyway...