French | Bashung transforms Boulay

There was a lot of France in the concert From America and France by Isabelle Boulay presented Saturday at the Francos. We talk about the repertoire, but also about the way. But this show was above all an opportunity to see how much Bashung’s songs transform a performer we thought we knew everything about.

Something happened when, after performing a dozen sentimental songs that made her famous, Isabelle Boulay sang my small business, a song by the unclassifiable poet-crooner-cowboy-rocker Alain Bashung. Suddenly, the playing of his musicians became more nervous and the pulsations became more sly. The singer herself literally transformed before our eyes, abandoning the restraint to which she had confined herself until then to move in a more inhabited, more carnal way.

It wasn’t just passing. As if Isabelle Boulay, who has just devoted a very successful album to the songs of Bashung, was freeing herself in contact with this shrewd rock tinged with country. It was amazing during lady dream, a piece swollen with erotic undertones, which she delivered with a troubled, almost theatrical elegance, while her five musicians delicately weaved a strange and sensual soundscape. It was also great during Dare Josephine, I pass for a caravan And You missed me, delivered with aplomb and perfect mastery of the text. Which is no small thing when we talk about Bashung’s disconcerting poetry.

This segment, which occupied a good part of the last third of the concert that Isabelle Boulay presented at the Théâtre Maisonneuve, contrasted so much with the rest of her repertoire that we had the impression of one show inserted into another.

It was almost a moment of grace, even more embodied than on record, which makes you want to say that if Isabelle Boulay dared to continue on this path, the “great peril” (those are her words) of rubbing shoulders with Bashung could mark a turning point. in his already long and successful career.

The other show we saw was the side of the singer we know: the one who loves sad songs, who renders them with her deep, warm voice, waves full of the soul, but with a restraint that also naturally imposes itself on its five musicians. Hence the contrast between the tense playing of the Bashung portion and the classic, timidly folk-rock arrangements of his great hits like I will forget you, And my heart takes a pounding, Talk to me or this very beautiful song written by Benjamin Biolay, Don’t tell me to smile.

We had to leave the room when the singer presented her musicians: Philippe Marcotte (keyboard and musical direction), Jocelyn Tellier (guitar), Olivier Laroche (guitar), Alex Kirouac (drums) and Frédéric Beauséjour (bass and double bass). Isabelle Boulay would then sing Between Matane and Baton Rouge, very beautiful song written for her by Michel Rivard. The tension had gone down a notch, but it was still with the image of a new Isabelle Boulay that we left the Théâtre Maisonneuve. Hoping to see her more often, that one.

Seen at the Francos

Kanen

On mitshuap, his album released earlier this spring, Kanen was already leaving a very strong impression. Dare: on stage, the young Innu singer-songwriter is a revelation. She has not only demonstrated a joyful naturalness in her way of occupying the space, she has above all a remarkable quality of presence, which makes the emotion pass directly between her and her audience. Chills were not uncommon during the hour she spent on stage delivering her often raw rock, but also marked by an amazing work of atmosphere produced by her four accompanists, including guitarist and keyboardist Jérémie Essiambre and bassist Agathe Dupéré. Just give her a little time and the opportunity to perform often and Kanen, a young artist with a strong temperament, will become a key figure in local Aboriginal music and Quebec rock.

Lilison di Kinara

At the very beginning of the evening, we stopped at the Lilison di Kinara concert, which has long been rare in our latitudes, with the hope of reconnecting with the magic of Bambatulu, his very beautiful album from 1999. The show had a little trouble getting off the ground – the sound system was not optimal on the public side – but after a quarter of an hour, he and his group installed a languid groove, on which the Bissau-Guinean singer put his high voice, sometimes murmuring. Lilison was surrounded by five musicians, including Bruno Rouyère and Jean-Marc Hébert on guitars and Daniel Bellegarde on percussion. It was not the expected reunion, but it was sufficiently enveloping to hope for something new from this singer who marked the mixed music made in Quebec at the turn of the millennium.