Frànçois & the
Frànçois is a French boy like a disparition. He’s not there. His voice is the shadow of every voice you once knew. Wind. Air.
His band is a landscape.
Close the window.
‘Come, come here.’ His mouth is filled with butterflies. The songs that bookend Brother are dreamy bossa nova tunes. The sound is skipping a bit – almost imperceptibly. Floating like dust particles. A taste of the sixties – stolen. Do you remember the girl with the skipping rope? Jumping and jumping and jumping – it lasted forever.
Open the door.
I ran along, ran after your voice, ran after your shadow. Tracey Emin. Screaming. What became of Tracey Emin? She vanished. Everything, everybody does in the end. What kind of girl was she at six years old?
What will be left is: a simple piano tune, shimmering, slow souvenirs buried in the snow, buried in pillows (‘Hiver’). Your voice: silent.
The Brother EP is an unfinished project – a shaky draft. It is an unmade album. Things undone, love unmade. Frànçois reminds me of every minute we forgot. Five tracks – a path back home.
Music is something you’ve lost forever – something you’ve never had – something you’ll never have.
Frànçois has one million brothers.
All ghosts. All pretty. All impossible.
PS- You miss this music.
=> "Night Lights"
Also freshly available HERE : "Her River Raves Recollections" mini-album on vynil or cdr.