- Memoirs of a French Garden: album review by Fog Songs
May 8th, 2020 | Raphaël Duprez
A natural, precious breath; ”All Tomorrow’s Parties” -Tremosphere’s version prolongs the magic and extends it towards a superior level of perception.
Taking on a musical and cultural monument that has transcended generations, Tremosphere gives us a version that is both respectful of its model and intimately thought and interpreted, joining spontaneity to celestial and internal atmospheres. The sensation of living well beyond reality, suspended above our own bodies so as to better rediscovering them.
Musically and cinematically, The Velvet Underground’s ”All Tomorrow’s Parties” belongs to a patrimony that is delicate to the touch of re-interpretation. Yet, Tremosphere take chances with their own reading of this tremendous classic, choosing to keep two of the main elements of its performance: ethereal and entangled voices, solo or in unison, and the saturation of guitars bed both soothing and revealing of our mind conversations. Extending on more than seven minutes, this cover goes beyond the original dimension, relying on Sylvia Solanas and Michael Serafin-Wells’s so fascinating experimentation. This allows the song to see further ahead than the morrow it evokes, to look towards the future, shared encounters and wisdoms that it invites us to discover, if only we give them the necessary curiosity.
The duo accomplishes here its primary aim, articulating its focus on the acceptance of light instead of sinking into the darkness. Where the religious would see souls evangelization, where the fanatic would establish false crusades, where the politics would impose stupid laws, ”All Tomorrow’s Parties” unites pleasure, ecstasy and the urge to see Earth and its inhabitants be on the move for their salvation, in a community. This unknown and majestic body floating above us manages to federate us, ultimately, while also reassuring us with its source of inspiration, inseparable from the material we’re contemplating as it is being sculpted, smoothed, made perfect. Tremosphere opens a door intended for us, with bits of conversations ending the track, waiting for our answer. Tomorrow’s celebrations are waiting and depending on us, on our thanks, on our involvements. During these precious seconds, they are infinite.