The stamp avoids the caress. The notes do not lengthen to show that she can push (she can). Marie Onile’s skilfully pop song neither cajoles nor simpers. In Moving Clarity, when the voice breaks a little, it’s not about plugging the breach: that’s what it is. The melodies, with singular detours, do not in any way cultivate potted beauty, but nevertheless take us where it is needed, where unvarnished emotion has much more effect. The bridge ofThey are minefor example, opens with a huge choir that overwhelms because there are few or no harmonies elsewhere (and when there are, in knots, it is to better tie). It’s the Onile way: nothing ends up on this record for no reason. Each instrumental segment stands out. Every word is weighed. Exactly. Everything counts. And first of all his presence on July 6 at the Veterans Park in Lac-Mégantic for the commemorative evening of the 10th anniversary of the tragedy. That’s where she comes from, Marie Onile: no need to add more.
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