hardly passed since golden year
1988, when lazy schoolboy Gilles Snowcat experimented with an old piano
and various strange sensations to convert this & that
Born on Mardi Gras day, it's hardly a surprise to feel spell and
betwitchment, curse and fascination in Gilles Snowcat's love songs after dark.
There's more than a hint of trance, rites and forbidden icons in what
goes beyond music. A parallel experience.
art into the rock, mokomoko
sensations into the roll, spirit into the glass and strategies inside
the muzzy no-man's land, Gilles Snowcat is (almost) proudly a living
nightmare for journalists, who have to go beyond the urban legend and
to the hedonistic shit to get the clues.
passed since the exile on side streets, where the
neon glow is still the last guideline for wandering drunkards. |
hardly passed, but while the bed is still warm and fluffy, the hotel
room is definitely shattered. This is where the naked truth leaps at
our throat: we know
time is passing by...