Un modeste homage tardif à toute l'équipe de VW, Une chambre à soi

Au Festival

Vocals: Mike (www.myspace.com/mikeadgenomics)
On the top of a high tower by the sea, I lay, trying to throw far in the water a tube containing a dream about a ruined house holding an unknown secret. I consider throwing myself in the waves althogether to avoid seeing the tube break on the rocks below. But the deep green water frightens me and I stay tormented at the top of the tower, in the wind, watching the grey, threatening clouds. A smell of salt and fish is in the air.
The song refers to Rael's feelings in Genesis' "Lamb lies down on Broadway". He's running after his genitals locked in a tube and floating down a river when a window opens in the bank of the stream. Through the window he see's the street of his childhood and wonders if he should get back there or continue to run after his virility. He hears his brother drowning in the water and giving up both choices, he dives and saves his brother, just to find out he saved himself.


Rael's dilemma

In front of a sad inn, scientists are chatting. In the distance, an aging woman looking as a sad Spanish dancer is watching. She regrets her numerous conquests. In the inn is a box with yellow wedding candies that I taste and find exquisite. The woman looks embarrassed. I see her wrinkled hands and realize the candies are her fake finger nails. I feel horrified, hesitate, but cannot help trying again. This time, the sweet tastes of soil, dirt and dust. I spit and go rinse my mouth at the sink.
This song is about the ache of putting away one's power of seduction and having the feeling to definitely give up the charms of love.


La Sévillane

I see a man in the street, looking ill and disturbed. People gather around and help him to settle on a strange couch. A man arrives taking hold of the situation. Could this be his father ? He fixes his leg with a contention, draws a saw and starts cutting his limb right under his knee. The shrieks of the metal teeth on the bone is horrifying. I shall not be able to stand the cries and yells of the poor guy and cover my ears with my hands. But the guy remains silent during his ordeal. 
As a French say puts it, “whom doesn’t speak accepts”. 


Qui ne dit mot...

I was 18 when I composed this piece. It took just 30 years to make it sound orchestral. It refers to the ake of the aspiration to liberty in a world full of constraints.  

Badlands Boogie

I'm walking in the streets of Stockholm. I know I should have visited churches and museums. But without shame I leave and take a stroll to a beach. In my hand, I carry a jar containing a small black fish. He, like me, deserves a taste of liberty. So I open the jar and gently plunge it into the water. My little black fish doesn't ask for permission. He goes for its freedom and gracefully swims away towards the opposite shore. 
I suddenly understand he's escaping and I shall never see him again. I'm loosing sight of him, now my fish is lost. But could I really have kept him secluded for my only pleasure until the end of times ? Could I ?






Black Fish 1 - The Escape

I wish to immortalize this melancholic stretch of water by a photograph. My camera is in the belly of a toad I hold in my hand. A black cubic shape under his skin. To get it out, I press and press the poor toad’s belly until the thing comes out. But the damages are major: guts stripped out, jaw torn apart. It's so disappointing. It’s not my camera, but a cell phone battery that I throw away as far as I can. I should have known, the object in the toad’s belly was too small to be a camera.

Black Fish 2 - The Camera in the Toad

I wish so much to catch a pretty little fish with this fish hook I just found. But the line is so short and I have neither rod nor float, not even a bait to put on the hook. Back in town, riding in a horse carriage, on the bench next to me, two experienced fishermen discuss their catches. I can’t compete and never will, I must live with that.

Black Fish 3 - The lonely Fish Hook

A beautiful hotel. We're so well inside. Why this urge to visit this room on the ground floor ? The room is small but very chic, exquisitely clean. I look around on the floor, in each corner but don't find a thing. A groom comes in and drops a huge bag. A strange feeling. I'm afraid the hosts of this room will enter in a minute. I need to get out. On the wall opposite to the entrance, another door. I open it but a second door close the way to the next room, a good way for parents to have their children nearby. I must get out by the front door. If I were discovered I would feel so ashamed, full of guilt. I walk in the corridor, empty. I turn the corner, my blood freezes: a man is coming towards me. For sure, he is the husband of the woman who rented the room. An old, elegant man, spectacles on his nose, nicely dressed, looks like a professor, he is the master himself. He did not notice anything. At last I reach the brightly lit hall. It's such a relief. But wouldn't it be better for my sake to have been discovered ? A beautiful hotel, but are we so well inside ?

LateAtWork