No Age
Live @ La Maroquinerie - Paris

The official excuse is that no one accompanied me to the Primavera in Barcelona, so I found myself with some money saved up and some free time to use a mattress at my kindergarten girlfriend's place, who's now on Erasmus in Paris.
The night before leaving, I watched interviews of Spunt and Randall until 5 in the morning; they have an attitude that I like, they're not pretentious, they're punk in the pure sense of the word, they sleep on the couches of those who host them, and with their music, they make it so that "Minor Threat," "My Bloody Valentine," and "Pop" can be in the same sentence without undermining its meaning.

13 hours and a haircut later, I merrily roam around Parisian soil, rendezvous at République with my friend, a beer in a bistro where I'm discriminated against by two very muscular Venezuelans for my heterosexuality, and we arrive at the Maroquinerie just in time to see the end of the first band.

No Age starts doing their soundcheck, quite spartanly, and ten minutes later, they begin with Miner, the first track of their excellent "Nouns." The sound is beautifully rough, fast and compact, Dean's shouts are almost inaudible, but who cares, it's the feelings that matter, the feelings and the sweat, and you can clearly see that the guys on stage are giving it everything they've got, so that none of these foolish French with earplugs in the front row danced, it's not their fault.
The concert continues and at least for me and for an uncle dressed in an 800s French military jacket, it’s very intense, he even goes crazy in front of the speaker, I mean, I'm sane and don't join him to that extent, Randall descends from the stage and plays Everybody's Down right in the middle of the audience, but no, the French, excluding an uncle still making cowboy noises, remain impassive.

Bastards I wanted to dance.

The guys on stage don't seem to be affected by it and continue on their path, without slowing down one bit.

Luckily with the last song, I think Ripped Knees, a beefy guy passes behind saying to everyone "wake up," I turn, look at him, smile, a shoulder bump and we start moshing, just the two of us in the middle of the floor, an empty space around, French taken very badly and I super happy.