Decazes, Eloise -& Eric Chenaux-
La Bride
A true chanteuse halogène, Eloïse Decazes has been haunting the ruins of French chanson for a few years now, notably with the group Arlt. Elsewhere she can be heard miniaturizing Luciano Berio's Folksongs in the company of Delphine Dora, or improvising hymns to the Titanic on cassette with Le Ton Mité. Her mysterious timbre is immediately recognizable, as warm as it is cold, her deceptively serene articulation, and her way of warping durations by singing the shadows of notes in lieu of the notes themselves. Eric Chenaux - a virtuoso guitarist - is known for having decided one day to cease taking his chosen instrument seriously, preferring to treat it as a bastard utensil by making it sound at the same time like an organ, a viola da gamba, an electric fishing rod and a handgun fired underwater. The worst part is that the result is quite beautiful. Apart from this, he's a mad theorist and an admirable singer. One seeks to reassure oneself by way of comparison to Nico and John Cale, or to Areski-Fontaine, but in truth this curious object does not resemble anything known. This is their second album and it is perhaps even more surprising.