>what Was Old Is New Again<. The Old Adage Is So Tired That Nobody Takes Its Proper Measure: All People Hear Is The Word Old, When The Important One Is New. Making New Things Out Of Old Things Is An Act Of Alchemy. The Proof Is In This Fifth Album No Rest For The Wicked Of Perpignan Which Is Blown Right Open Here And There By A Few Very Contemporary Guests.
Making new things out of old things is an act of alchemy. The proof is in this fifth album – no rest for the wicked of Perpignan – which is blown right open here and there by a few very contemporary guests. After the opener, ‘Ouverture’, with its almost surf-like guitars, comes ‘Le Premier Jour’, where Lionel Limiñana talks about his rock baptism with the punks, the mods, the skinheads and the Lambrettas of his youth in the South of France. What comes just after is the seismic shock of ‘Istanbul is Sleepy’: the Imprimatur of Anton Newcombe of The Brian Jonestown Massacre is simply enormous. Then comes Emmanuelles Seigner’s super sexy tornado on the title track; and ‘Dimanche’ follows, with Bertrand Belin. Lionel sees him as a “French Nick Cave who writes songs that resemble films.”. ‘The Gift’ features Peter Hook who scrapes his bass guitar again here; obviously a song reminiscent of an early period New Order. Finally, the Limiñanas on their own send out an instrumental cavalcade with a furious beat, like a Kraut Morricone, ‘Motorizzati Marie’ followed by ‘Pink Flamingos’, introduced with psych rock pads played backwards forming a vaporous song bathed in acoustic arpeggios. A respite in the album… before the fuzz and the abyssal bass of ‘Trois Bancs’ violently shakes the ghost of Gainsbourg: an electroshock in talk over. And to close the scene, a love message [txt from ]