She arrives. She yells. She sings.
LA TÊTE is a techno-contrived, noisy, ill-mannered creature, and proud of it. Kim Giani — the guy behind Les Clopes, Jean-Pierre Fromage, and fifty albums that no one asked for but everyone needed — wrote custom songs for her. The result: an improbable concert that resembles nothing you've seen.
9 giant mouths that think they are backing vocalists. A stage manager trying to survive. And LA TÊTE doing whatever she wants.
Tonight it's Sans filtre. Same format as the “Mi-pneu Mi-Punk” version (for the kids) — except that here, no one pretends to be good. The jokes are cranked up a notch, the decibels too, and Troussasex is in the setlist.
Nature / Sushi / I don’t understand anything / Vitry Voltage / 3kmh / La Tête Président / Totally disco / Kate Bouche / Troussasex / Totally disco / I don’t want to do stuff / Why does the chicken cross the road / Robot Rhapsody /
Come or don’t come. She doesn’t care. But you’re going to miss something.
