Artist picture of Animal Triste

Animal Triste

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Artist's top tracks

Tell me how bad I am Animal Triste, Peter Hayes 04:14
All About Animal Triste 03:46
Dancing In The Dark Animal Triste 04:44
Afterlife Animal Triste 03:23
E.V.I.L Animal Triste 03:52
Diamond Dreams Animal Triste 03:23
Wild at Heart Animal Triste 04:15
Mary, Full of Grace Animal Triste 03:44
Machine Love Animal Triste 04:30
Shake Shake Shake Animal Triste 03:15

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Rock and roll is a sentence to life. A life of voluntary service, spent between the four walls of a cage where the air will always be less stenched than outside, where the tunes will always be less dangerous to hum than those of the outside world. If you step into Animal Triste's lair, the one its six occupants have kept double-locked for two years, you'll find lustful guitars, abandoned on a floor littered with Bad Seeds vinyls. Hanging between the bars of this prison of joy : a Mancunian bass ; in its corners : analog keyboards proudly brandishing their cold-wave banner ; on the ground : the ashes of a burnt out pentacle upon which the vocals and drums proudly call for the spirit of Californian Indians, the kind that went dressed in a suit made with the skin of a lizard king. You’ll find faded posters pinned on the back wall, as a tribute to the former lives of the creatures that have spent too many winters here : Darko, La Maison Tellier and other (more or less) private jokes made among these wizards of sound who have never stopped working behind the scenes of the dream machine. It seems impossible to capture the six limbs of this Lernaean Hydra all at once. No one else but themselves could convince them to stay in lockdown with this neverending goal : to find what they have always lacked. No one else could talk them into coming out of their dungeon, when they get caught by the will to live a wild life, the life yonder, the one when animals struggled to survive, reaching for the insane goal of perfection, with no need for software and LCD screens to know how to play. As a backdrop to enhance their most intimate stage, a dark image, a mountain barely lit by the cold and full moon, a haughty monolith in whose shade they come, on solstice nights, to lay down their beaks, claws and fangs as a sacrifice : such is the cover of the first Animal Triste album. Eight tracks recorded in the mists of Normandy at the end of an ice-free winter, at the dawn of a spring that locked the whole world in a cage. A few urgent weeks spent at the legendary Piggy in the Mirror Studio with David Fontaine, days spent without make-up, with this loyal Albini disciple. There, they were able to walk their trail of brutal tenderness, before handing their baby-monsters to Etienne Caylou, the sound engineer who knew how to put his head into their open mouths without being devoured. Here is a misanthropic first album, the carbon footprint of an almost forgotten world, future fossil of a time when glaciers gave up their ghosts, an incandescent torch that no beatmaker will ever be able to waver, here come animals still standing, here come Animal Triste.