Indestructible, unalterable, stainless, and wound up like a clock, such is the Little Bob of 2002. As if time, by gliding over his tough hide, simply brought him the patina of the wise. The rocker from Le Havre has brought out his sharpest teeth ("Lucky Man", "Libero") and attacks head-on as only he knows how: with taste and rage. Gilles Mallet's guitars take center stage, leading the dance with funky rhythms ("Let's Shout") or giving way to tribal rock where Bob revels with delight ("The Scream of the Ghost"). This Libero is dedicated to Roberto Piazza's father and owes its title to him, asserting the eternal philosophy of the godfather of true French rock. With such an album, Little Bob appears more than ever as a magnificent resistor, serving a cause he has never ceased to champion. Capable of poignant and humorous blues ("Wild Cat Blues"), as well as a nervous song in his native tongue ("Vivere, Sperare"), Little Bob asserts an undeniable identity that commands respect.