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French-speaking favorite 2024 – Day 1

Marjo. The Foufs. Marjo aux Foufs. Yes, you read that right! This meeting, as improbable as it was explosive, took place Thursday evening, as part of Coup de coeur francophone, during an evening where the crowd was so dense that we suspect the Foufs of having been “more than full”…

Marjo aux Foufs is much more than a concert: it is the meeting of two indomitable forces, both of which appeared in the early 1980s and have shaped the rebellious soul of Quebec. Marjolène Morin, Quebec’s first rocker, inspired several generations of artists with her passion and raw energy. As for the Electric Foufounes, the undisputed epicenter of Quebec underground culture, they have witnessed some of the most daring pages of the Quebec music scene.

We expected nothing less than an anthology moment for this meeting between two rock legends. We were not disappointed…

Avoid nostalgia by anchoring past successes in the present moment

Marjo, as we well know, began her rise with the group Corbeau, at the crossroads of the 1980s, an era as legendary as it was pivotal for Quebec rock. Even after going solo, Corbeau’s songs never left her repertoire. It is moreover with Illegal that she opened the evening, to the delirium of her faithful.

The nostalgia trap is difficult to avoid for any cult artist who revisits hits 30, even 40 years old. Many fail by offering uninspired concerts that seem to exist only to replenish the fund for a well-deserved retirement. Marjo proved yesterday, at 71, that rock still flows in her veins, like an inexhaustible source of youth.

Marjo was, still is, and always will be a real stage beast. Just yesterday, she proved it. His passion and that little unpredictable something make you believe that anything can happen at any moment. You had to see her walk the stages of a legendary venue, where more than one legendary rocker has left their mark, to realize that she defies time with exceptional vitality. Marjo is of the Mick Jagger caliber, defying the passing decades, captivating the public as few artists know how to do.

She moved during the 75 minutes of the concert from one end of the room to the other, performing acrobatic kicks and rock’n’roll breaks. The acoustics of the small room showed that Marjolène is still vocally strong, not even seeming out of breath during a very aerobic performance.

After interpreting The one who goesshe said:

Don’t think about age. Just move forward. Be with the world.

Just before launching a very rock Raven sequence, she dared to strip the leaves, removing her tie and her white blouse. Very close to the stage, we heard, from both men and women, multiple variations of “Estie que est hot!” »

Yesterday, Marjo had everyone in her pocket. She was able to connect with each person present, looking them in the eyes, touching their hands, and smiling for the cameras. His band also threw some very solid rock in our faces.

She left the stage, emphasizing the audacity and importance of the Coup de coeur francophone festival, because “we split our asses to sing in French”.

Yesterday Marjo managed to make us forget that she has been riding the same hits for decades by anchoring them in the present moment and thus defying the trap of nostalgia. What could have been an interesting but bland evening will remain forever engraved in the memory of those who did not overindulge in the Labatt 50 which was flowing freely.

Alphonse Bisaillon: A marvel on album and on stage

It was singer-songwriter Alphonse Bisaillon who had the odious task of opening the evening. Odious, because already at 8 p.m., a good part of the public was already very “hot” and, a priori, disinclined to pay attention to an artist alone in front of his keyboard.

The one who grew up in Saint-Hyacinthe quickly transformed the odious into a blessing. He managed to quickly win over, through his colorful verve and his delicately funny and scathing interventions, an initially inattentive audience.

In a burst of self-deprecation that characterizes his career, he performed an extract from Alphonsethis song by Lynda Lemay which begins with “My name is Alphonse, it’s not my fault, it’s my parents who did it to me”. Then, in a nod to the world of rap, he opened hostilities with a diss track Linda. A very clever way of showing bite to an audience hungry for rock.

Alone at the piano, he was certainly not able to reveal all the musical richness of his homonymous album, which combines rhythms as varied as rock, tango and disco. However, he masterfully proved that he has what it takes to be an incredible performer on stage.

Wearing a t-shirt bearing the image of the queen of the evening, he finished his performance with a flame hat on his head. To freely use a popular expression: behind every queen, there is a king. This king, last night, was indeed Alphonse. Taming an overexcited crowd at Les Foufs, with only a piano as a weapon, is certainly a feat worthy of a king.

Hats off to Bisaillon. There is no doubt that we will not fail, as soon as possible, to see him in a show of his own.

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