Flea market’s menestrels are kidnapping Mister Marabout for a permanent satisfaction of their old fashioned refined fetischism. Tantric yoga teachers on ecstasy experimenting the flying Jesus sun salutations. Pelvis’s moves and big bang firecrackers… every body is a universe. Private affair with a smartphone mixes with threesome fears, sun drying red fishes meet nasty cyclists on the dusty roads of Gros Oiseau’s weird lost world. Some kitshy homemade beatboxes, funny childlike nursery rhymes, an unstoppable overfueled groovy bass and hilarious, ironic, cynical, frantic, high on speed lyrics. Gros Oiseau is a fanciful bird. Gros Oiseau is a chimerical creature. Nicolas Tissot, Paul Courlet and Julien Israelian outlined their musical hydra in 2014 and they keep drawing freakish extensions on their funky animal since then. Medieval romance becomes intestine examination. Poppy, radiophonic tunes turn into nightmarish lightness. We jump, we jerk, we laugh, we listen. We cough, we smile, we stomp, we rush. We know, we ignore, we believe, we don’t care.

Stoned philosopher’s rap / Jumpin jack’s musette / Disco dancing dissident divers