Viande d'Amour

Description

The flesh, or what remains of a body when life is taken from it. Love, or what remains of life when a body is taken from it. Flesh, or the muscle of death. And of love too.
Words are unknown friends. They are neither entirely of my opinion nor entirely opposed to it; they give themselves with kindness and surprise me. I have no weapon against them.
Sometimes they hurt me a little, but they do it with such innocence that I cannot hold it against them. They are utterly adorable. They have the disorderly freedom of children.
God, how beautiful disorder is! Damn! But what can be said of freedom! I write what I do not know how to say. I give words the task of everything I do not know that I am. I amuse myself. I merge with man, with the human, the one who is not a part of humanity but humanity itself. I have the bastards in me, I have the wise and the mad, I have the living, I have the dead, I have matter, I have nothingness, I have infinity. Fuck, how good that is!
Viande d'Amour, may the music that animates me, the words that become clearer, the songs that are written, matter dissolve into the mystery of life, bodies merge with souls and flesh become sentimental. To illustrate this raw sensitivity, I would like to record this album in the simplest way possible, just a few days in the studio, to capture the sound of a passing moment, with its mistakes, its imprecisions, its fragilities, provided that the power of these musicians, who are only men, can be perceived. And what men! Grégoire Gensse, on piano, is a total musician, composer, arranger, multi-instrumentalist, he has bubbling youth. Denis Charolles, on drums, is also a composer, arranger, he has founding madness. Stephen Harrison, on double bass and banjo, who accompanies me on stage, has an incomparable groove. All three have this point in common: they play with their heart, their body, their flesh... d'Amour please!