Hippie Hourrah (QC, Canada)

In many ways, it’s the music you sometimes hear after banging your head. A mandala of vaporous sounds. As with the words we try to read in a dream, something escapes us: one letter less, too much, upside down, unknown, incongruous. Here, certainties are shattered into shards of doubt: guitar or zither; modern or ancient; fruit of goldsmithery or of chance?

“Hippie Hourrah” was the song that Jacques Dutronc had written to make fun of the infatuated who swarmed in his flowerbeds. Caustic bit of vertigo to send yourself at 45 rpm or on a sugar cube. Escaped from the latter’s mouth – a Havana smoker never closes it – the word took on flesh, took shape, rolling from one mire to another in the alcoholic swamp of the evenings, a little happiness hidden under light rags and a few beards. He was promised worlds and wonders. Then the walls swallowed the sun. Everything went very quickly then. They were three, four, five or more, Marinel Abas, Miles Dupire and Gabriel Lambert .There were flowers and smoke, also basses and synths. There was this singer in tree posture, once seen in Adam’s costume (from the Fall) within the Marinellis. There were those Jesuses of Bermuda, found at Anemone and Elephant Stone, and their Golgotha ​​of reverberations. And nothing on stage actually sounded like what you saw there. It was as if this word that we struggled to read in dreams had offered itself a chamber orchestra to sing its praises in a buzz of psychedelic choirs, repeating a mantra backwards. And in the celestial vault, an echo resounded: Hippie Hooray, Hippie Hooray…

Thursday May 5th, 2022 10:50 pmThu @ Penny Black Room 2
Saturday May 7th, 2022 8:00 pmSat @ Central Room 2
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