DÉNUDÉ (16 SONGS, NAKED & UNPLUGGED)

LAZULI distraught like the current world in which we turn, LAZULI releasing an unplugged album of compositions from his first 8 CDs, songs a little scratched alive to launch a snub to the crazy and lost world in which we live. Texts often whispered supposed to translate the stripped side, eviscerated, naked, texts released a year after their last live performance (live: moment of sharing between a group and its fans often put together without masks.). LAZULI whom I no longer present for having brought them to life when their last baby was released, who, like us, remains motionless and naked in front of this too long silence. "I am waiting for a spring" from "Season 8" for a subtle fight between crystal clear piano and haunting voice, purity and beautiful introduction to understand the meaning of the album. "In the formalin at the museum" of "4603 beats" on a tortured electric guitar, coming from the Léode enriching the a cappella sliding on shivering choirs. "Cassiopée" from "En avant doubt" and a subtle vibraphone, Arnaud's steel guitar that thrills, the instrumental break on the recognizable Léode, Lazulienne brand. "3:40 pm" of "4603 beats" and the limpid piano, polyphonic vocals in all simplicity, an obvious spectacular exposure and the suspension of time for this title. "My Kinds" from "Season 8" and the almost normal first song; the crescendic world-music rhythm with the percussions of Vince in front and a title to be repeated in public, by the fireside, just at 6 maximum; turn up the volume and sing along, this is the best therapy yet. The end with bursts of laughter confirms this idea. "Sad halves" of "As long as the grass is fat" minimalist, acoustic where Dominique's voice works wonders, one of the few French voices that I manage to listen to like an instrument while vibrating on his words; Shouting Léode prolonging this moment of serenity. "Multicolor" of "As long as the grass is fat" and the second title that does not seem to be revisited, good anger regarding this pandemic? The didjeridoo brings back to an aboriginal atmosphere which makes one travel at least. "A shadow on the board" of "Amnesia" sensitive on a guitar note seeming to play the tightrope walker, the dulcimer bringing a regressive note just enough to bathe its notes.

"Vita est circus" from "Nos souls drunk" with the Roman horn in front, a title that speaks for itself, personally I would have said a real brothel rather than a circus, in short it is so; the voice on a wire launches on the acrobatic and bucolic atmosphere of Charisma's rabbit; Glockenspiel and Leode to end with a psychedelic fanfare. "Naive" of "Amnesia" in monolithic trance at MINIMUM VITAL, bewitching, repetitive, the percussions forward as in titles from DEAD CAN DANCE, ah a magical Léode which passes then an Arabian horn in the end. "In advance of doubt" from the same album which speaks of the front, of the pandemic, no go we will forget all that for a few moments; the immense lap steel can fit into a mantra to open up to the beauty of the song; a heavy title that has nothing to do with chance. "La valse à cent ans" from "En avant doubt" for once again an exercise in style without a net with piano and voice; the keys ring and vibrate in the air, naked yes I had to say it at least once in this column; a sign my girlfriend loved it and started humming on it, go a little further and I convert her; melancholy introspective title on the life we ​​... live; Dominique will be happy. "La vie par la face nord" from "An incongruous response to the inevitable" for the rhyme in which Dominique flaunts her vocal cords, just to climb this Everest, the mandolin, the vibrating accordion and chasing the clouds. "A slope that we descend" from "As long as the grass is fat" with acoustic guitars do you want some here; a raw title as before a composition taken out of a village bar on a moonlit evening; It vibrates, it jumps, it lives, I will forget the pandemic, ouch electric guitar solo, I rejoice. "Our drunk souls" from the same album, strong title in concert! The absent Léode, the one who made you vibrate the last hair of your head, a short title remodeled with a duel of voices and guitars; a bit repetitive go "they" hear me and end with a chorale in the end. "An autumn" of "Amnesia" to end this journey beyond time and hope; melancholy yes, filled with hope surely, filled with emotion like a listening time outside of time; the piano, the horn bordering on spleen, the title fades to leave you naked.

LAZULI has therefore laid bare, almost to death, texts from his life to accompany us a little at home, to forget time, to refocus on words well before music; this is often acoustic and thus gives the impression of having the group performing in front of you ... with us; not a repeat, not a live, almost Lazulian gasoline which lands in the hollow of our speakers. LAZULI or the art of going beyond the sanitary rules, thank you.