Mark Morgan

United States

16.10, 23:30Salle des fêtes

Sweaty crooner and solo guitar. But no. We don’t know when it starts, while in fact we’re already crushed into his piggery where the absurd minutes of music instruments and noise fetichists are running out. What he plays does not match what you hear. He gives his all, but it does not come out. He stops when it goes on. And then, in metallic waves, his whispers are chopped by insane solos with, it seems, an improperly plugged jack. Knees on the ground, surrounded by his own voices, the killing of the rocker never happens. Shredded into pieces, he is greater than ever, quirkier than ever.

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