In the beginning, there were geese and a leisure center. One beautiful spring day, the large birds stopped there. The grass was soft, the water was clear, and children were throwing bread. When winter returned, the geese did not leave. For the first time in hundreds of generations of annual migrations, they became sedentary. Fred Burguière watched them a lot with his children, fed them, and wondered why they no longer left, as if to contradict *Les Oiseaux de passage*, the magnificent poem by Jean Richepin that Georges Brassens turned into a song. And *Comment je suis devenu voyageur* became the title of the Ogres' twelfth album, an album by rooted nomads, by great travelers who built a home for themselves, by adventurers who know where they are going. Fred, Sam, Alice, and Mathilde Burguière offer sixteen new songs that are as much a travelogue as a collective diary, as much a meditation on the state of the world as a committed scrapbook. One hears Gypsy rhythms and rock surges, Parisian echoes and Southern accents, East winds and oriental perfumes, deep voices and small children, well-established pianos and instruments from elsewhere, romanticism and anger, present days and dreams, maybes and if-you-wishes – the Ogres once again, with open hands and generous hearts.
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