Resentment, hatred, nervousness watering the furrows of the Balladurians. A band ? No, a duo that demolishes the idea of the classic rock combo. Without bass, without battery, their existence does not take much. Minimalist and binary, simple and without proof, their songs charge straight into the wall for a "laid into" punk and violent, as opposed to the virtuoso songwriting.
Far from being musicians, the Balladurians compose as they live: fast and bad ! Without warm sound, a drum machine backfiring marks the tempo with a metronomy with a bewildering coldness. Behind, An untuned guitar hammering annoying riffs. In speakers, while battling a broken voice by bad whiskey with an organ used by dust. And to arbitrate this chaotic battle sound, improbable old vinyls are introduced into a set of rare density.
An attempt electro-clash garage ? Punk poorly imitated ? Rock'n'roll undigested ? Hard rock junk ? Regardless of the adjectives that are thrown to tha Balladurians, because they turn away with flippancy. Dry, fast and wild, their electric set is to take it or leave it. Masses of energy... nothing else !
(photo by A Pair of Brown Eyes)
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