Amours grises & colères rouges Inclus un livret de 20 pages et 14 titres inédits

Description

A striking and meaningful title. Like the opening song "Pas ma haine," inspired by Antoine Leiris's book. True to their ethical and spirited demands, the Ogres keep alive civic questions and concerns while musically reviving the ability to resonate and move. No moralizing injunctions, just an unyielding observation. A piece from the quartet is, in any case, several ideas thrown into a suitcase before fleeing. It’s a joyfully abundant album that plays with the idioms of song and the axioms of world music. It’s an album full of energy, momentum, and subtleties. It’s an album that exudes the strength of its constant honesty. It’s an album that doesn’t care about the bottle as long as we have the intoxication. Above all, it’s an album that celebrates firsts. The first time the group delegates production to other vibrant forces: Loo&Placido, Rémi Sanchez (Zebda), and Damny Baluteau (La Phaze). The first time machines are invited—sparingly—amid trumpets, percussion, guitars, bass, accordion, violins, banjo, organ... Finally, the first time love songs—let’s remember, gray ones—force their way in and take an equal share of the cake as social or societal songs. Torn loves ("P’tit cœur"), combative loves ("Si tu restes"), irreparable loves ("S'il nous plaît"). Written with the idea of a duet with Barbara Weldens (who passed away in the summer of 2017), "Pour toi" takes on the appearance of a poignant tribute here. As awakeners of consciousness and with a dose of sarcasm, the Ogres envision Song for 2000 years from now, when humanity will have put an end to its eternal absurdities and "when there will be no more allegiance on earth between a black and a white." There’s also an attempt to find a remedy for the disease of the century ("La nombrilïte aiguë"), a list of resolutions that fall apart ("Tous les matins immondes"), a grand tribunal against the backdrop of incest ("Hé papa"), the words of a dead friend consumed by his excesses ("Latrim"), a revolt against the fate reserved for women ("Pas une femme"). It’s hard to imagine an album from these tireless troubadours without its share of guests. This aligns perfectly with their principles. Like on the previous release, the lively Beninese brass band Eyo'nlé joins the dance and commands some serious hip-shaking on three tracks. As for Magyd Cherfi and Lior Shoov, they unite their voices to celebrate a moment of loving bliss in the face of the chaos of the world ("Il y a ta bouche"). The Ogres de Barback tell us, with a faith in music that seems unshakable, what our era is. They definitely have a taste for others. No surprise for a group that continues to rhyme humility and happiness.