Now, you’re afraid of cars when it gets darker. The sound of the crash is still around you. A dry sound that has nothing to do with the explosion you were imagining. One of the very rare sounds that are not music. That cannot be. Too close to the bones, too close to death.
And a bunch of seconds after the sound you were on your feet, touching every parts of your body, searching for any pain. There was no pain. Everything was perfectly normal. And you walked to the guy who was still in his car. There was something you wanted to tell that son of a bitch.
For hundreds of fans worldwide,
here is the new EP from Tupolef, after seven years without a sound.
A week alone. A whole part of me away from me. Work and friends remain. A lot of work, but the pace is different. And music. Music outside. Three shows, it’s a lot for the guy I became. And we missed Dogbowl (OK, let’s not talk about it anymore, right? EVER). And music inside. The bedroom filled with three guitars, a mike, a keyboard and all my toys. Like in the good ol’ days. And it worked. Four tunes and a fifth that’s almost here. Pretty cool.
As a souvenir of the mood: some no-fi-dance-bullshits I love. Neon Idians, Washed out, Nite Jewel, Glass Candy and Memory Tapes. I don’t play the same music at all when I’m recording, but deep inside, there’s a connection. Hope so.