Overhead
Silent Witness

A cherubic voice is playing with the notes within these walls. It enjoys walking on carpets of warm weave and passionate warp, escaping on slopes too steep, where only a few angels have dared to flee in the past. I know where it wants to go, but I don't want to follow, too many have tried, too many false promises. I will not return to that place after that cursed May of nineteen ninety-seven.

Yet it's stronger than me, I begin to venture timidly and from afar I can already feel the sparkling air, the flow of alluring and tempting water. The Mississippi, the river, that cursed river. Here the water is usually so turbulent that it's impossible to see its gaze from below, which is why I prefer not to come here, it's useless, I know it's there but it always hides at the bottom, stirring the waters on the surface. Today, however, there's a strange calm, there's so little current that it almost seems possible to glimpse the bottom, for a moment it seemed I saw its smile again. This time, it was the splendid voice of Nicolas Leroux that brought me to the river, a voice so full of grace that today even the water was calm. For once, the comparisons are not too far-fetched, for this reason the Overhead, French by origin but English by adoption, with their debut album "Silent Witness" deserve a listen. Under the guidance of the angelic Nicolas, singer and guitarist, this French group has managed to create splendid rarefied and sophisticated atmospheres that often captivate with their intensity.

It begins with "Innerself", an arrangement of cymbals and almost jazzy guitar with Leroux playing with honey in his vocal cords. The atmospheres remain warm and enveloping, and with "You Call It Love" there is a sense of sensuality and eros, Alexaandre Destrez's piano intoxicates the room with scent while a passionate voice slowly undresses us. The ritual of seduction begins and finally, at the seventh track "The Sky Lit Up" ecstasy is reached, four minutes of sweating skin and bodies touching, we close our eyes and let our senses take over. Sunny airs and sometimes more autumnal ones dominate a delicate rock intertwining, with sometimes jazzy hints and timid psychedelic forays, where the guitar and piano often seem engaged in a mating ceremony. Continually lulled by Nicolas's moans and whispers, we reach the end of the eleven tracks and it's easy to be struck by such grace. If one day a young Frenchman invites you to the river to see the angels, don't be afraid but follow him.