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First Aid Kit

An autumn stroll with two Swedish sisters, barely past adolescence, along with their two enchanted voices and their mindful, loving father/manager. First Aid Kit are masters of harmony.

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They don’t say much, these girls. Really, they barely speak to us at all, chatting with each other in Swedish, agreeing on a song, preparing themselves, then singing. For any external relations, they rely on their father, a calm, bearded man who never lets them out of his sight, handles the business of everything other than the music. He explains to us that his daughters are still studying, that he organizes their tours during their school breaks. Their father, their manager who has heard these voices an unfathomable number of times, nonetheless marvels: “Is it not incredible to hear two sisters sing? Two voices so similar that they carry one another?”

There was at least one taxi driver who agreed, accepting to take us after we were kicked out of Buttes-Chaumont by a park warden with nothing better to do, proud to have chased us out while the sisters covered Fleet Foxes behind a bush. The taxi driver was a saint. He smiled the entire ride, constantly repeating that he wished every workday could begin as nicely as this.

We finished filming in the washroom of the Flèche d’Or, while J. Tillman worked his sound check. We didn’t speak much. It was much easier to listen to them sing, which they do, as you can hear, divinely.

Translation by Tara Dominguez