I wanted, at the beginning, to sound like English New Wave from the eighties, but I added some percs, and a piano, and I lost everything about this, so there.
I tried many ways to sing the words, then the “Watch it drip, wait for it”, and failed. This is why I whispered all of it.
Really, I like to destroy the usual structure of a song. This is why it doesn’t verse/chorus. This is why I changed the beat in 1’44”, mutation, towards a “walking thing”.
It’s again about “modulation in the 4th bar”, and I think the reason this song exists is in the two guitars in the end.
I used old picture of my mom’s garden in the rain.
Eventail means “fan”, it’s a very complex poem from Mallarmé, which is really funny to interpret. Again, the usual song structure is melted. I added some tunnels with rockets of sound, which lead to this synth sound I love.
I tripled my voice I had to sing very low. The end brings a sweet chaos.
Same garden, another year: rain, birds, insects.
Eventail
De frigides roses pour vivre
Toutes la même interrompront
Avec un blanc calice prompt
Votre souffle devenu givre
Mais que mon battement délivre
La touffe par un choc profond
Cette frigidité se fond
En du rire de fleurir ivre
A jeter le ciel en détail
Voilà comme bon éventail
Tu conviens mieux qu’une fiole
Nul n’enfermant à l’émeri
Sans qu’il y perde ou le viole
L’arôme émané de Méry.
Google translates:
Fan
Frigid roses to live
All the same will interrupt
With a white prompt chalice
Your breath turned to frost
But let my beat deliver
The tuft by a deep shock
This frigidity melts
In the laughter of blooming drunk
To throw the sky in detail
Here is a good fan
You are better suited than a vial
No one enclosing with emery
Without losing or violating it
The aroma emanating from Méry.
Someone tries this:
Fan Belonging to Méry Laurent Frigid roses to exist all alike will interrupt your frosted breath with a quick white calyx but should my fluttering liberate the whole bunch with a profound shock that frigidity will melt into the laughter of a rapturous blossoming see how like a good fan you are better than a phial at carving the sky into fragments no flask could be stoppered without losing or violating the fragrance of Méry.
a french toolbox 