The country, apart from Guylaine Tanguay, is a wasteland where the outcasts make rhymes to warm their hearts. There is as much an indestructible Stephen Faulkner as a Stéphane Lafleur without a helmet or a Bruno Rodeo without anything or anyone. All of them have verve in the verb, humor in the despair. Gars du Lac, Bruno has produced his new album “all alone like a rat”. It’s the title of a song and a general attitude: he “goes for it” even if he “has no control”, no matter what. It gives just as much the beautiful guitar twangy in Camping Cobra that the loss at the edge of the undrinkable reality narrated in golden luck : “Don’t look at it from a blind spot”, says the disappointed singer to himself… whistling at the end. Let him describe a “little spot grandiose” that attracts too many people or his “Lenten face in the morning when [il a] not eaten at [sa] hunger”, the report is never sealed. “I let go / Worse my good man ego. This is his solution. Maybe yours too.
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