When I arrived at the theatre Granite, Moriarty was just finishing their soundcheck for that evening’s concert. That is where we embarked from, heading to the other side of the city. In their minibus, Arthur tells me where they come from, evokes Jérôme Deschamps, describes tour they’re doing around France, and enumerates the previous years spent putting the finishing touches on their first album. I explained to him the concept of the Take-Away Shows and where we are going: the St. Joseph Basilica, a beautiful neo-Gothic church where I want to bring them before nightfall.
There is no need to push them much: the five men are easily playing along. Everybody knows this story called “Jimmy”, and Moriarty (whose name comes from a novel by Jack Kerouac) knows more than anyone else how to tell these stories. With a timeless elegance, Rosemary’s voice resonates deep in the heart of the church, revisiting the title in a rough and grandiose version, not far from the American Plains’ rural blues.
Arthur got an incredible guitar, a metal Czech guitar from 1957 (or so he says.) When you know that the roots of Moriarty family are in the theatre–and, more particularly, that they have their origins in Jerome Deschamps and Macha Makaïeffe’s plays–it’s not a surprise to discover a harmonica, bells, or a luggage-drum. The scene of the folk cabaret “Lovelinesse” takes place in a confessional lit with candles.
The night falls quickly during the winter. There is no more sunshine coming through the stained glass. Rosemary seems to love this atmosphere, and she starts to cover Depeche Mode. Here, in the middle of a church, lost in the darkness, “Enjoy the Silence” takes on a religious dimension. It’s quasi-mystical, almost unsettling, with a natural ease; the settings are perfect, and the band improvises brilliantly. With a waking-the-dead-voice, the diva then undertakes a funeral march a capella– an old traditional song, sublime and haunted, which seems to have survived for centuries.
Translated by Nora
Commenter