11.
The English translation is “There is Nothing Left”. In France, Léo Ferré is known almost as a poet, more than he is a performer. But as I don’t speak French, there’s a language barrier to me understanding the meaning behind his poetry. Regardless of that though, what I love is his insane delivery, a manic recitation with these non-stop vocals. Ferré is really something to behold, and this is another album that sounds infinite to me. The arrangements are bonkers. The first track starts up, and straight away, you’re left thinking: “what’s this?” Bonkers.
It’s melodically really beautiful, too. Lots of measured arrangements, lots of sparseness, but lots of huge stuff as well. ‘Richard’ is an extremely powerful song, my favourite on the album. It’s just his performance, so intense, so unhinged. The last track, ‘Il n’y a plus rien’, as well, is 20 minutes long. He keeps going and going with this chord sequence that eventually folds in on itself. A lot of things I like are when you can’t tell the beginning of the structure from the end, infinite revolving, which is definitely at play here. Ferré’s arrangement keeps slowly and slyly changing, going around again and again with only slight permutations each time, until it collapses in on itself and all you’re left with are some whale sounds.
