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Les Breastfeeders/Comme Un Homme Libre

Posted by John / September 30, 2005

After a hilarious series of logisitical hijinx that aren't very important but that caused me to leave Quai Des Brumes midway through Comme Un Homme Libre's pretty good set, go down to Saphir on St. Laurent near Little Toronto (aka the block between Sherbrooke and Prince Arthur), and then head back again, I pushed my way through the crowd to take my place among the other arms-crossed, head-bobbing fans.

But there weren't any. The whole bar was dancing. And the reason for this was pretty obvious: there was a distinct lack of anglophones, who are, by nature, lame.

My francophone friends have told me many times that they know how to have a better time than anglos and that we're basically all a bunch of uptight stiffs. I've always taken this to be good-natured (or resentful, maybe) trash-talking, similar to when I note that they can't pronounce the letter H or that their morning radio show hosts and Pepsi TV commercial spokespeople are the most annoying humans on Earth.

But it turns out, of course, that my friends have been telling the truth: French people have more fun than English people. And I 've seen lots of French bands, obviously, but usually in some vaguely anglo context - Les Georges Leningrad being weird at Casa back in the day, or Geneviàve et Matthieu playing with Lederhosen Lucil. I've also been to a zillion anglo shows, where if eight people try to half-assedly dance right in front of the stage, or if half the crowd is doing that lame arms-at-side bouncing thing, people describe it as the crowd going wild.

When Les Breastfeeders played last night, the crowd actually went wild. Like, wild. I kept expecting to see people hanging from the chandeliers. It seemed like a film set where the extras - each of them hoping to be noticed and given some bit part - are all hamming it up excessively. I was standing near the back trying to arm-cross and bounce, and people kept looking at me like "what the fuck are you crossing your arms for?" Everybody was having serious fun. None of them are awake yet, I'm sure.

Oh right, also, Les Breastfeeders are awesome. Their singer does everything right - the garage rock screams, the twisting and dying into the microphone. And then they've got tambourine guy, who looks like a third-liner from Rimouski playing for a mid-70s Canadiens team. All he does is play tambourine, run around the stage, spit water into the air, and - for one song - ululate into the microphone. He's totally unnecessary, and thus all the more necessary.



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