Pontaillac, March 1986
« Don’t worry bro, he’s certainly freezing his own balls on the mountain , while we have near 20°c tonight on this terrace …
– Precisely, I would love him to be here and enjoy the exceptional sweetness of weather. But he may not care, sun shined brightly in the Alps today.
– What’s going on Colin? You seem so sad. Is it because of yesterday afternoon, when dad caught you wearing this silver crop top?
– No, I piss them all off. He helped me for that, he helped me finding my way to escape them next year. But I wanted him to share the travel with me.
– And Simon?
– Sorry for him, but you can’t longer enjoy an ordinary wine when you’ve tasted a Chasse-Spleen …
– He wouldn’t like you being desperate and emphatic like that, bro.”
Colin looks at me deeply. Maybe I’m farer from him on this soft falling night. I ‘d like to help him, but it’s impossible for me to have bad thoughts on Alban now. And it doesn’t fit with this moment we have both outside, brother and sister, with the lazy wind and the rising stars; and the radio sizzling in the open kitchen.
“ You know him better than me, don’t you sister?
– Nobody knows him, I think. But this mystery hasn’t got the right to spoil the holiday evening we have together … there may not be many more. It’s nice out, maybe nature is beckoning us to let simply go…
– You know him. You talk like him. But you’re right. “
At this point, the sound of our radio becomes clearer. They have a great announce to make. Their LP is out , on sale, and here’s the host’s favorite track by Depeche Mode.
I jump on my feet.
“ Oh, your Walkman again? Going to have an artisanal recording which you alone have the key?”
But we have to keep it , bro. You don’t know yet that it will be priceless.
Heavy sounds hit the spring air which still stammers, little by little they form a difficult melody by repeating; and the voice that emerges is not what we expected
There’s so much tenderness and supplication in the words we catch
never willingly do you harm
my weaknesses, you know each and everyone
And most of all
Independence, is still important for us though …
Is it there the freshness of a winter which tries to take back its rights on the night?
We’re standing in each other’s arms , voiceless and suddenly transfixed.
What is this for a song? Not a slow, not a ballad, nor a damn romance.
It weeps gently , but it strikes also ; and it talks about us all , about all that far from false noise can shape and consolidate what really matters between two people ; desire, loyalty , despite the whim that governs and constantly threatens human relationships .
And the heavy sounds of the beginning, that resonated in the background , they beat again louder in the end , obstinately, as if no end, no night could erase them anymore.