Pre-concerts are always difficult. Joe is facing issues to emerge, it always takes him 4 to 5 hours to be fresh, so that's why we wake him up long before going on stage, almost 9 hours before so that he's not too stuck... Hash puts a kind of veil over your eyes, especially when it's every day and all the time... Not only you no longer have clear ideas, but you really have trouble seeing things. It's as if everything became bland... More bearable, but duller too. And sometimes you have outbursts of temper, outbursts of anger that are way too strong, which are there to remind you of your duty, which is simply... Life, in fact. But this reminder is never very happy.

In the rock world, we often say that drugs are a good engine for creativity, that they stimulate the imagination, etc. For my part, I find that it causes shit everywhere it goes. I've seen so many of them come and go like couples as each person's rises and falls...

By the way Joe is undoubtedly the most talented of us and that's why he allows himself so much, waiting until the last minute to come down, and we have to scrap him off the ground, because Mister had done another explosive cocktail of ketamine, hash, alcohol and something else, acting like Baudelaire and his absynthe... Fortunately he writes well, and his poems are on the lips of all the hippies of New York at the moment, otherwise I wouldn't forgive him...

So, here is the situation. Backstage, it's always the same shit going on. Joe is puking his guts until the last minute. So we put him under a cold shower so that he cools off more quickly and he takes the hit like an egg boiling in water. His body is full of spasms, he belches and he yells at us, mad with rage for having pulled him out of his waking dream...

All the members of the band are watching him and we always wonder until the last minute what the hell we will be able to offer to the audience, coming in drives - like every time - to see our little asses on stage! And each time, it doesn't fail, Joe manages this miracle of singing in tune throughout and with an energy that makes one wonder where it comes from, him who was a zombie just a few minutes before...

As always, the music transfigures him and we all remain stunned. We're playing, we're doing our thing, but we can't help but observe him out of the corner of our eyes, astonished by this metamorphosis. Time is as if distorted because as much as part of us admires this tour de force, another part hates it, hates it for having put us in doubt this way, until the end.

We find him to be a fucking egoist, but also a fucking artist... Joe sings in tune, but above all, his stage presence is powerful, he sings like his life depends on it, and his raspy voice is unique. He's never taken singing lessons in his life, but hearing him breaking his voice to our guitar riffs, anyone quickly understands that it doesn't matter. Joe is magnetic, perhaps because it's his own lyrics that he sings on stage. Texts that speak of deliverance, resilience, liberation, but also flight and cowardice. Texts that talk about him.