It was clearly specified that the concert would last only one hour. This did not prevent 9,000 people from rushing when tickets went on sale to fill, in less than ten minutes, Palais 12, one of the large performance halls on the outskirts of Brussels, in which Stromae had chosen to return to the stage on Tuesday, February 22. A reunion with his hometown, in the form of a warm-up showcase, before two other “previews”, at the AccorHotels Arena in Paris, Thursday February 24, and at Afas Live in Amsterdam, Sunday 27, the week preceding the release of a third album, Multitudepainstakingly orchestrating fan expectations, nearly nine years following the triumph of its predecessor, Square root (2013). Waiting for a season of festivals, from April 16, at the top of the bill at the prestigious Coachella (in Indio, California), and around sixty dates that will take him to the biggest arenas until the end of 2023.
“As long as I am alive / I am undefeated. » Carried by loops of African choirs and a combative energy, the unreleased track (Unbeaten) which introduces the concert reminds us that this comeback did not go without saying. Physically and mentally exhausted by the Square Root tour, completed in 2015, Paul Van Haver experienced the depressive spiral of burnout (accelerated by the adverse effects of an antimalarial). He goes back to the ring today with songs that often seem to be imbued with these trials. Like Hellconfident what had been the “suicidal thoughts” of its author, in a piano-voice jammed with synthetic squeaks. Unveiled a few weeks ago during a “sung” interview, staged at TF1’s “20 heures”, the piece is taken up in chorus by the Brussels public.
Co-written with his accomplice Orelsan – who, this same February 22, inaugurated his new tour with a concert at the Zénith de Caen –, two symmetrical songs (Bad day/Good day) complete this chronicle of depression by describing the same day from two angles of mood. Stromae singing these new songs alternately slumped and hopping in an armchair.
Dehumanizing Technology
Effect, perhaps, of this neurasthenia, the singer, born of a Rwandan father and a Flemish mother, chose a scenography which notes the dehumanizing omnipresence of technology. Lined up like a Belgian version of Kraftwerk, his four musicians wear the same white shirts with frills and black bow ties as him and each seem to be driving the same huge computer console. Behind them are the avatar of Stromae created by the Brussels animation studio nWave Pictures, and also screens and panels moved by an impressive cohort of robots, suggesting that the production of shows will soon experience the same mechanized future as the ‘automobile industry. A fun robot dog also replaces man’s best friend in a pre-song skit.
You have 37.22% of this article left to read. The following is for subscribers only.
