Vaëlle smiled until the prize was hers. We found out shortly before midnight on Sunday: it was Fabienne Thibeault, winner in 1974, who presented her with the grand prize at the Granby International Song Festival, a prize that is now called “La Fabienne” in her honor. A beautiful passing of the torch, half a century later.
Six hours earlier
On the wide sidewalk, between the entrance to the chic Palace and the Sainte-Famille church, a small group that seems ad hoc sets up shop. The bells ring the Angelus. It is 6 p.m. A surprise show, an hour and a half before the grand finale of the Granby International Song Festival? Yes indeed. It is indeed Alex Nevsky, behind this beautiful red Nord keyboard, flanked by female musicians, on the flute, violin, cello, and French horn.
It’s very gentle, what they play as a group of five. Exquisite, even. You have to listen, however. Beauty, true beauty, is a healthy requirement. Nevsky sings little, is more occupied with his arpeggios. It’s very calm at the end of the festival. A little breeze welcomes the people, passers-by as much as the guests at the finale, who treat themselves to this optional prettiness before entering. We think that the finalists, the group Mercure, Léa Deschênes, Jérémie Arsenault, Louis-Julien Durso and Vaëlle, would find a little salutary peace there just before testing themselves on stage. Let’s talk about each one’s performance.
Mercury rising
It’s a great edition, the festival has found its joy again. Invention and relevance in the same vein. Mercure, a hip hop group from Saint-Jean to start? Yes, it’s possible. Hip hop that rolls hard rock with it? And singing pop choruses? Anything is possible. From Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu to Granby, it’s now happening outside the big cities, all genres allowed, combined, exalted. “We would be gold medalists if criticism were an Olympic sport,” exclaims the Zouglou singer.
Léa Deschênes, paradox to be resolved
Her voice is a little out of tune. It’s not a matter of nervousness, which we would understand quite naturally: hey, when you’ve made it among the 24 semi-finalists to the six who count, that’s not nothing. But her way of not really pronouncing is almost generational: since Coeur de pirate, people have been asked to go towards the artist, and not the other way around. It’s up to us to decipher, to perceive the unspeakable. Paradoxically, when she presents “Tu la salis comment ta vie”, she is completely accessible like the girl from Lac Saint-Jean that she is. No distance. When she sings, she asks us to follow her. There must be a balance to be found in her. To follow, without decoding.
The incessant complaint of Jérémie Arsenault
“I’m quitting, I’m the only one who died in my own war,” this young man screams, clutching his guts. Either he’s not well, or he has what he believes to be the solution to survive himself: Jérémie Arsenault is both his best friend and his sworn enemy. In “Noir soleil,” he stares the intolerable in the face:
“I would like to be reborn in reverse
Start my life from the end
Run away from here or everything will turn me off”
Not sure that the Granby public, or even the public in general, has the stomach ready to digest such a misery of living. We will certainly admire the courage of the performer. You have to want it. But you also have to like the lamentations.
The higher degree of the verb in Louis-Julien Durso
Oh! This one hits hard. The voice, the lyrics, the arrangements, the staging, Louis-Julien has it all. This timbre with its vast register is amazing: he could be a stand-in in Starmania, he knows how to lengthen the notes. He has something very referential, it could be a flaw: no, it’s an art! At times, he seems to be playing Pierre Lapointe on purpose. Sometimes he frolics with Polnareff, one would say, capable of piano-based orchestral pop from the best era.
Better, he has a complex and skillful verb. In “Cinema l’amour”, it is quite astonishing:
“In the disorder of our false convictions
After the 3-2-1 action
There would be a Dompierre plot
And images of Arthur Hilaire »
Even more so, aim at his poetic prose in “Hands on my neck”:
“I walk in the void of a premonitory dream
I’m afraid I’ll wake up at the very end of the story.” This level. Can’t wait for an album by this Durso.
The crazy charm of Vaëlle
Her place in the final is the result of the public vote. We understand why on this decisive Sunday. Vaëlle has the trick. She wants to be a bit like the Boulay Sisters all by herself, not without a certain acid charm. If her lyrics didn’t weigh her down, “overly heavy images (which) hold your alienating thoughts hostage” (in “Demain”), we would be quite seduced. As long as we don’t pay attention, that’s what happens. Hence her victory, which is the victory of a teeming nature.
Still, there are collaborations that get lost: we can’t do everything, and that’s not a flaw. Author wanted. You still have to realize it. That’s what competitions are for.