Fleet Foxes

1 - FINDING THE ECHO

Dream of the impossible and you’ll get something even better. For the Fleet Foxes, we wanted a huge empty place, and impressive, if possible. We wanted echo, we wanted a lot of space, we wanted something unseen. At the Grand Palais, on the central walkways running along the neve where Richard Serra’s monumental pillars were installed, was a door sealed with an iron bar. Behind that door, a disused university and an infinity of corridors, abandoned as if at short notice after a shooting epidemic. A couple of chairs, smashed doors, pigeon dejections on the worn carpets and pigeons flying above our heads, under unreasonably high ceilings. Thanks to Sebastien and Muriel, two friends, Garrincha got us into that ghastly place in the Grand Palais, which was only accessible through an outstanding rococo staircase. We walked with the band until we found a rotunda. We were exhausted.

2 - EXHAUSTION AND TENSION

It was on the first day of June. The night before, we threw our second Take Away Party. The Fleet Foxes arrived from Great Britain with their van, played ’White Winter Hymnal’ in the pit, gave a great show and left right after. We went to bed at 3am after a crazy night. The day was all about indolence, in a place too big for us, with a band who seemed exhausted, both excited and intimidated.

It took some time to settle everything, as if the rotunda scared us all. In idle times, Robin was looking up, staring, as if praying. Moon was rushing about, and the band’s members tried to set up, following his directions. Tension was tangible, and it took a couple of wrong tracks before ’Blue Ridge Mountain’ started well. Music finally took over.

3 - AND SO THE MUSIC STARTS

When the voices rung out, I felt, happy, that they couldn’t have opened out better than in this ancient echo. It was a great start. But the real slap in the face came right after the ’I love you, I love you, Oh Brother of mine’. Suddenly, we were all struck with the impression that they were not five, but a dozen to be playing for us. Every instrument had multiplied into three and Robin’s voice was no longer scared by the space surrounding him.

Then, we played another two songs, but something was wrong, as if the place suffocated us, as if we couldn’t find the right formula. The band seemed to become a bit suspicious, tensed. So we left, sun-kissed among tourists, we crossed the pont Alexandre III, and sat on the grass on the Invalides esplanade. There, they sung ’Sun Giant’ among joggers. There, I recognized the band I had met a few months before.

4 - FLASHBACK

It was in February, before their album was out, before they were praised by Pitchfork and others (including us). They had long hair, they were smiling, living in a van hippie-style, and they waited for Nate Chan and me on the parking lot of a McDonald’s, in an area of San Francisco hamming the flower power nostalgia. Pecknold was excited just like a kid after he found an abandoned gymnasium in a street behind. They played in the grass, hummed while walking. It was the before-the-success band. Carefree, unpressured, no heavy recognition.

(Translation by Nora)