8 Highlights of the Pitchfork Music Festival Paris 2021
Wet Leg – Supersonic, Friday November 19
Wet Leg’s discography only has two songs yet, but that didn’t seem to bother the crowds of people who came to see them Friday night at the Supersonic, a small brick-walled club with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the street. The line outside the hall stretched the length of the block, and on the floor in front of the low stage there was barely enough room to bring a beer to your lips; upstairs to the balcony, the situation was hardly more navigable. Hailing from the Isle of Wight, the band, led by the duo of Hester Chambers and Rhian Teasdale, both on guitar, backed tonight by Ellis Durand, Henry Holmes and Joshua Mobaraki, circulate in a pithy indie rock brand that owes to groups like the Breeders, Stereolab and, above all, Elastica. You might call it retro if it weren’t so timeless, distilling several generations of post-punk and indie pop into three-chord progressions expressed in two-minute bursts. Giving a new twist to such a familiar sound isn’t easy, but with their crisp guitar sound and punchy melodies, Wet Leg has managed to carve out its own niche; having a knack for memorable deadpan lyrics doesn’t hurt. The whole crowd shouted with the âWet Dreamâ pre-chorus: Ox ’66 on DVD. (Again, Vincent Gallo has always had great success in France.) They sang even more vigorously until the closing âChaise Loungeâ, the group’s biggest hit to date; no moment in the seven-song set elicited greater exhilaration than when Teasdale slipped improvised French lyrics into the song. ” Excuse me ? She asked, and the cry backâ “What?!– was practically deafening, an expression of joy that didn’t need translation.
Sofia Kourtesis – Badaboum, Friday November 19
Berlin-based DJ / producer Sofia Kourtesis arrived in Paris from Peru just hours before the start of her set; a few hours after leaving the decks, she was due to fly back to Lima, where she is caring for a family member who has been ill for three months – “living mainly in intensive care”, as she told me. previously. his outfit. As lockdowns around the world ease, many DJs have expressed mixed emotions at the prospect of returning to the whirlwind of club life of transatlantic flights and high-decibel sleepless nights; it is all the more confusing for someone who is dealing with a family crisis at the same time. (Unfortunately, Kourtesis has already been in this boat: she wrote the Fresia Magdalena EP following the death of his father; her beatific frequencies are a way to combat the kind of unthinkable loss we all have to deal with, sooner or later.) But Kourtesis’ playing seemed to thrive on whatever emotions she was feeling. She built the foundation of her DJ set from lush, springy tracks like her own “Lana Gaye” and “Sarita Colonia”, as well as “Bass Affairs” from Sound Stream and “Only Human” from Four Tet. By his penultimate song – Acid Pauli’s ‘Nana’, a vibe among the vibes – the club was packed and the couples were kissing on the dance floor; Kourtesis stood on the bridges, practically hanging from the pipes in the ceiling, to present her closing song, her own “La Perla”. For a few hours, at least, floating between the bass bins seemed normal again, even fleeting.