Torche are not a band meant for the large wholesale market, nor are
they meant for any of the myriads that spin immediately from it.
profiled crevasses of a society largely
equipped with short attention spans and fixated with quick fixes.
Tonight in a tightly packed venue, the shorn-haired, workman-like
and has very little added identifiable frills that separate one song from
Primitive and unglamorous in its essence, the one hour set is a doom edged heavy riff-a-thon
that smashes into the loud clattering made by a fiercely
tightly played metal rhythm section and straight talking,
Some will summarise Torche as being the type of band
bred for longhaired head-banging numbskulls to positively enjoy;
others will flash mocking devil horn hand signals and brand them as an alternative to cheesy
retro-fuelled metal or emo weaned whingers.
Yet this committed trio stand as an example of dedication for all those
that say metal is a tired genre well past its sell by date.
Rennes has a huge student population.
While it might mean that the streets heave day and
night with sugar-high fresh faces, it also makes Rennes a centre of
bottled-up revolutionary sprit – ‘What happens in Paris, starts in
Rennes,’ goes the saying,
probably. Municipal police stand in droves on a number of corners,
waiting for the kids to go ape-forprogress and there’s
more than a bit of the ’68 look about Trans Musicale’s founder and his
gorgeous Patti Smith-like wife.
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