Giedré - LALALA

Giedré - LALALA

Lalala, is GiedRé’s latest album the one of maturity?
This time-honoured formula doesn't mean much, especially when applied to this sweet Baltic asparagus with the appearance of a Smurfette, which has just celebrated its thirtieth birthday.

Let's say that Like Everyone, Not Men or When We're Dead are less cheerful, darker songs.
Now the laughter is strangled because it reveals its lucidity. As funny as it is, GiedRé points out the suffering of the little ones, of the nobodies. But without ever falling into consensual indignation. In the first sense of the term: GiedRé sympathizes. And this abrasive compassion is not cloaked in any taboo, other than generosity.

She's funny, GiedRé: jaw-dislocating! A relentless sense of comedy, crafted by her training as an actress at Ensatt. Her entire singing tour (we're not at a concert, nor at the theater, but somewhere between music hall and stand-up) is an authentic show, locked like a house of cards. A sort of jewel box where each jewel would be spiced with fresh blood, sprinkled with unease and spiced with a zest of sadism.

A nomadic Baladine, she has, through her albums (since 2011: my first record, my first CDVD and my first Pannini-style album, all three self-produced and self-distributed; my first album sold in real stores and my first album with instruments other than just the guitar, also self-produced and distributed by Fnac) traveled the roads of France and Parisian venues (La Cigale, l'Olympia.) to make people laugh and chill them.
After a year of absence, GiedRé will be back on the roads of France, for what she calls her "tours"