It’s less a twelfth album by Mario Peluso than the “sad aftermath” of the previous one, The last real cowboy, published 10 months ago. Which, for five out of six songs, bore the signature of lyricist Pierre Huet. This time, we have Huet once in five. The title song. By far the most accomplished of the lot. The best end lines, that’s for sure: “One day maybe, we’ll see each other again / Let’s go to the bar of the beyond”. We would have liked more. I salute you life, lyrics by François Vigneault? Not the same level. My impression, frankly? Peluso, more at ease between himself and himself, prefers his kind of lament, even if it means lowering the bar. The Litany of Discontent in Bastard of cursed routinethe usual refrain of the eternal lost in hobo middle of nowherethe unavoidable regret of the good time spent in The hotel of 15, all Peluso is repatriated. Yes, it holds up, the Hobos Howlers have the Americana in the saddle. Should we blame Huet for making us hope even stronger?
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