It’s been forever since then. It was cold, I think, and the Place de la Bourse was empty. We knew that on a small side street there was a rock bar catering to the youth of this bleak neighbourhood, but that’d be for later.
We’d walked quite a distance with the members of Get Well Soon, from a faraway venue, and it was time to play. The only busy spot in the neighbourhood was an almost too typical Parisian brasserie, with the old oyster man, trembling and adorable, who revealed himself to be a good dancer; the obesquious maitre d’ who came to warn us not to film the name of the restaurant, and, like a miracle, passerby, workers who had stayed a little too long in their office, the remains of the city suddenly awoken when six Germans began to bang and shout beneath their windows.
Then towards the Truskel, a packed bar, dark, impossible to film in. We set up with the secret hope of attracting a few night owls with the noise. Amongst them, a tall, shy boy who we filmed just after, just him and his guitarist. While waiting, the group went into the bar, making the kind of racket that could wake the dead. We couldn’t see anything. Lit only by intermittent flashes, it was all the confusion we wanted, the perfect commotion.
Then the film went into the vault. The anxieties of a director taking his first steps with us, file problems, lost hard drives…we saw it all. It took more than a year for us to get this film online. Today, we’re happy to finally do it.
Translated by Tara Dominguez
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