We’ve been hard at work in Brittany for two days and have been frequenting Binic’s Super Cathedral (where we were able to commune with Tramhaus, Reptiles, Crack Cloud, Lumer and The Bobby Lees on July 21 then Warmduscher , Kelley Stoltz, Chocolat Billy and Lumer on the 22nd), and even if the atmosphere has been festive and the bands more than excellent so far, the very beautiful and hot Saturday July 23rd promises to be the high point of the festival… With a big crowd (2000 people!) and a fiery prog allowing you to see groups of death that kills follow one another on stage: Chocolat Billy, Stiff Richards, Willie Weird (aka Kelley Stoltz), Mr Quintron & Miss Pussycat, Beige Banquet and DER!
In order to “face” all this with a full stomach and enough strength, after an invigorating swim on Corps de Garde beach – we never get tired of it… -, at noon we had a restaurant with friends where we were able to taste the best mussels marinara/chips of our lives, accompanied by a good cider and a divine dessert. Where can we find this? At “La Maison de Léa”, on the port of Binic! This little “food” point, to say how good we are here in this seaside resort on a human scale which hosts one of the most exciting French festivals.
In line with their very stimulating performance the day before under the big top, the French free rock group on satellite Chocolate Billy is in charge of launching the third day in the best possible way: by giving everything he has to break the house, and this from 6 p.m. under a blazing sun. On this scorching late afternoon, there are already a lot of people in front of the big stage to watch (and participate) in the joyous mess caused by the four relentless jammers with funky rhythms.
The public begins to warm up by chaining beers, while on stage the mad cavalcade of guitar, bass, synths and percussion begins to raise the sauce against a backdrop of improbable vociferations (the texts are more onomatopoeia or surprising sentences balanced in loop than anything else). We come to a point where the drummer ends up with his belly in the air and where the guitarist/singer offers us a very nice example of an apparent ass crack (“plumber’s crack” in English). Clearly, it’s the party of the underpants and everyone is loose. And to top it off, the climax-like track of the set ends in totally enjoyable organic techno. To paraphrase the troop leader when he mentioned the temperature, Chocolate Billy it’s “still very, very, very hot!”
Without transition, head for the marquee from 7 p.m. for the highly anticipated show of the Australian messiahs of hysterical punk rock, Stiff Richards. We were expecting something huge after listening to their latest album, the brilliantly punk and roll “State Of Mind”, but seeing the beast live has an even more monstrous effect: after a song, we asks outright if we would not be in the presence of one of the best current rock bands, all categories combined. Because the five guys, not very impressive at first glance and not at all “bullshit rock stars”, string together punk hits like a parade, each more jubilant than the other, they play them as loudly as possible, banging like guedins and the singer is a beast of the stage coupled with a force of nature.
Looked like a tourist on the go, the guy commands the deepest respect as soon as he grabs the microphone: his screams electrify in the blink of an eye and when he pushes his voice into the red, they are real roars evoking a its most famous congeners, the late Good Scott ofAC DC. Add to that a great desire to play and a communicative good mood, without forgetting an undeniable desire to rub shoulders with the front rows as soon as possible, even to slam while screaming like a pig as soon as possible, and you have in front of you the best frontman of 2022. A smiling and elusive madman assisted by a gang of high-flying punk rockers. The dream !
The strong point of Stiff Richards, is to never let go, to swing riffs and ultra frontal rhythms from the beginning of a title and to continue to press the mushroom for the duration of the piece. This means that the public is completely taken in by the thing and yells out loud, pogotes dirty and organizes a very boiling mosh pit. Filled with young (and big) restless people just waiting to melt their last fuses available in stock, the marquee quickly becomes an uncontrollable cauldron where the bearded vocalist Wolfgang Buckley can throw themselves body and soul. Ending up being carried at arm’s length by the whole crowd while bellowing the anthem “Go It To Go”. Phew, that was brilliant! And the group from the suburbs of Melbourne plays again the next day on the big stage! Isn’t life beautiful?
Willie Weird (aka Kelley Stoltz)
After the Stiff Richards tornado, a bit of indie pop rock on the big stage to avoid the breakdown from the start and recover from your emotions? It is the named Willie Weird who takes care of it according to the program, without specifying that it is another project of Kelley Stoltz already present here yesterday to offer a very nice performance. Even if the name is different, we are entitled to a new generous session of pop songs tinged with garage rock with heavy guitar riffs or sixties pop à la Byrds. It’s classy, perfect for an early evening facing the sea enjoying the sunset. The icing on the cake, the set ends, like the day before, with pieces tinged with disco funk soul, a fairly clear invitation to the undulation of the pool…
Mr Quintron & Miss Pussycat
After the traditional lunch/beer break at the beach below the festival site, it’s the crazy American band Mr Quintron & Miss Pussycat whose mission is to awaken the “voodoo garage” ardor of the audience. This combo led by Mr Quintron, on the crazy organ and vocals in direct contact with the Bayou, and Miss Pussycat, on backing vocals and percussion, also includes a drummer, which is classic, and a backing vocalist/keyboardist wearing a a chain mail and using the vocoder like on futuristic rap records, which is less classic for a garage combo. In short, it’s the big joke, the big nonsense, and it makes you want to twerk in all honor, or downright naked.
It is 10:40 p.m., the people present on the site are now at the ideal temperature to take the group’s post punk shock made in Great Britain Beige Banquet, which occurs under a rapidly boiling marquee. It must be said that these guys are not here to do extras, they plan to bombard the crowd with post punk hits full of hysterical vocals, angular riffs, huge bass lines and… bells (” cowbell” in English). It’s very heavy, super violent, brutal as we like.
It’s the ideal kind of thing to organize yoga sessions to reconnect with your deep self, uh no, sorry, rather sessions of pogos and slams to let off steam like crazy. What makes the public, thoroughly in the thing, is very, very annoyed (positively). And he is further galvanized by a guy who seems to be part of the group’s entourage and who goes on stage, harangues the crowd and throws himself everywhere. There you go, it’s souk, and each track is more exciting and played tighter (these guys are savages who have to play together every day) than the last.
In addition to the infernal singer/guitarist/leader, particularly fired up and in good shape, the secret of Beige Banquet’s stage success lies in the presence of the sculptural bass player, bald and bare-chested with the look of a hooligan. This rather scary guy at first glance benefits from a lethal weapon, a kind of charisma through terror: in addition to smashing his poor four strings like a god, he looks up at the public with a very venerable air, and always seems to be on the brink of get off stage to put fluff pifs using his bass. And what had to happen happened, he throws himself into the pit and continues to play like a psychopath surrounded by punk lovers, jubilant and unleashed. Attention, this show to be reserved for a public aware of the risks involved can be shocking for fans of neurasthenic folk struggling to enjoy.
We begin to be severely attacked when the French group DER tumbles onto the main stage to close the evening. This is the new project of the blues folk rock songwriter Red (seen here in 2019 and in the first part of Bertrand Belin in 2020), who recently teamed up with a guitarist and a drummer not born from the last rain. Olivier Lambin switched to bass and now makes a kind of punk blues noise that is both extremist, powerful and well jerked off. We are clearly not here in a consensual thing, it is rather something violent and visceral, with passages a little calmer evoking the past of Red. We will be happy to see the trio pumped up again the next day for the last evening of this Super Cathedral of Binic which restores faith in rock and roll (in case, by chance, we have lost it). On the program for Sunday July 24, in addition to DER, therefore: a second layer of Stiff Richards and Beige Banquet (yeah, yeah!), plus Vintage Crop, Jackson Reidd Briggs or even Destination Lonely. It’s going to get really hot!
Pictures : Titouan Masse titouanmassephoto.com, www.instagram.com/tmphotograph, www.facebook.com/titouanmassephoto, twitter.com/titouanbzh…
Links: lanefdfous.fr/binic-folks-blues, www.facebook.com/BinicFolksBluesFestival, www.facebook.com/LaNefDFous, www.instagram.com/binicfolksbluescathedrale, www.instagram.com/la_nef_d_fous