Welcome to the rabbit's hole. A blog on pulp.
Yesterday I went to a concert of Nouvelle Vague. And I found out that I can predict future. Better than Stephen’s precogs. Without lying in some luminous liquid equipped with drugs. My drugs were music and I predict that this wasn’t the last time that I went to a concert with Nouvelle Vague on stage.
I must confess I still can’t decide which one of the two singers is myfavorite. Melanie with her raspy voice who never seems to take herselfserious. Standing in stage, beginning each song casting a bamby-eyed look to the audience and on the point when every avarage musician starts to get excessivly pathetic she just smiles her ironic smile and turns away.
But if you ever wanted to see Tom Waits after sex reversal on stage you gotta see Phoebe. She does not only claim to listen to Tom Waits records since the age of eight, she also sound like the smoking, drinkig, coughing, swearing, female version of the great Tom.
The strange thing is, that those two voices are wrapped into the soothing sounds of Oliver Libaux and Marc Collin. Post-punk 80’s sound covered in a mixture of Jamaikan ska, Brasilian samba and Haitian voodo. But what is the strangest thing of all, is: You can get a whole hall grooving on this shit.
Which is quite a difficult task if your on stage in Stuttgart. Germany must be chastisement to most bands. A hall, an audience of approximately 500 and all they do is teet their feet on the floor. And they were giving a really cool show. Such a good show that even this audience in the end could not stop to demand encore.
Unfortunately it may take some time till they start a second tour. Next stops are Catania, Milan and Rome. For those who missed this time: go on concert.