The dogs bark and the heavy-metal caravan tears through everything in its path. What lies ahead is a twisting, high-voltage journey for anyone with a taste for contemporary sound, and this record offers no lukewarm sightseeing, no pre-retirement indie pop-rock playlist drift. You'll have to learn to dance off-beat, wringing out every neuron before the final rinse. Drink your sweat, not your tears, and burn off the bitterness: that's the intended destination of the trip. This monstrous album has a computer where its heart should be. Three humans are wired into it: Michel Cloup, Manon Labry and Julien Rufié. Layer after layer, they've fed this sandpaper-and-digital-custard mille-feuille. On the menu, heaped and hurtling by the wagonload, the beast is stuffed with screams, laughter, melodies, noise: a frantic feast. It even leaves you wondering who's driving whom. Who seized control? The flesh? The printed circuits? Michel as a Titanic-'n'-Roll conductor? Julien and Manon as demolition apostles? Doesn't matter. For now, it rips, it saws, it strafes, it smashes, without pause. Rock debris_post or not_grumbling Parmentier-pop mash, white-hot hip hop spinning out, electro-disco-kraut fissuring, furious new French chanson: everything shoves its way into the blender. The real free world is here. Michel veers between naïve chants of dwindling hope, barking tsunamis of black fury and other delights, recounting the world in full 360 degrees as well as the twenty metres outside his front door. As ever, he speaks of himself, of us, speaks a lot, speaks too much. The intensity barely drops below the danger line; even the lows are stratospheric. Foot to the floor, calmly. In the thick of it, you'll wander room to room through the small theatre of France's grand political tragicomedy (David, Goliath and Godzilla), the consultation chamber of our disappointments (2027), the community repair shop of our hopes (Catharsis), the literary gym (The Poison, The Antidote), the torture room (H&M, with old Toulousain comrade Fredo Nonstop), the nightclub in flames (Shame, RIP), the electronic shooting gallery (Maria, Background Noise), the XXL confessional (For Whom? For What?) before ending in the Munch Room, the chamber of the primal scream (SISRAHTAC). "In the end, there are no words left. It howls, it howls, and it doesn't stop."
