Last time we saw Cali he had bruises on his knees and arms, his body marked by his fans’ fervour. He was safe and sound, freed from the clutches of the adoring crowd, escaping intact from his magnificent chaos.
We weren't going to hear any more of him for a while, that was a promise. He even allowed himself to schedule a sabbatical year on his to-do list. Some time out to catch his breath, ground himself, charge his batteries and take a well-deserved break: what is generally known as the ‘warrior’s rest.’ He was no longer to be spotted in television studios taking part in a special Cantona feature, tracing the route of the Tour de France with Didier Wampas, singing a duet with some artist or other (or Vincent Delerm), or waving his arms in the air at Charlety stadium.
But here he is again: the same turbulent kid that was slumbering inside him has woken up and thrown himself back into the fray.
To start off, he’s been cast by Philippe Muyl director of “Cuisine et Dépendances” as a moony Pierrot in “Magic”, due for release in autumn of 2008. And as though to prove that work well done should be done with a sense of urgency, he took advantage of his free time to record his third album.
Caliciuri ignored his mandatory day off, dismissed the problems posed by cinematographic exile (filming took place in Canada) and created his new masterpiece two sessions at a time.
Part one began in July in domestic style, at Cali's home in his beloved Perpignan, surrounded by musician friends who'd been in on the whole mad Cali journey since the beginning, including Matthias Malzieu (Dionysos) in the production hot seat. Cali was able to rummage around in everyone else's imagination in search of ideas without ruffling any feathers, and thus put together demos infused with the essence of summer.
He crafted his compositions for “L’Amour Parfait” and “Menteur” with various British Isles as a background, but this time out he was finally seeking the sun and warmth of his roots. Half the tracks reflect the influence of nearby Spain, and the flamenco rhythms of the opening song, the all-important Espoir, evoke the searing heat of a productive summer, the counterpoint to a wet, sorrowful political spring.
While staying solidly anchored, it's clear that he doesn't sing Je ne “Te Reconnais Plus” (I Don't Recognize You Anymore) for nothing; and when he gets into “Résistance”, it's not simply a question of inner totalitarian control – not at all. From beginning to end, this album is infused with a major change of direction, a healthy need that reflects well on him.
He's packed up his style and taken it on a journey toward new horizons, ending up in early October for a second session at the Véga studio in the suburbs of Carpentras. There he kicked off a second round in a winning game, where the aim was to produce rock like never before, forcing him to risk putting himself out there and wearing the mantle of the complete artist that he is.
However, the risk, if real, is a calculated one. With the help of a few seasoned professionals – masters who transcend themselves as they play, giants who never hold back – this insane challenge became possible and conceivable.
If you take one Philippe Entressangle and mix him up with a Geoffrey Burton, Robert Johnson, Daniel Roux, Julien Lebart, Blaise Margail, Nicolas Pulsais and a whole heap of other artists of similar calibre, if the chance to feature Richard Kolinka is offered on a plate, then you shake it all up and the resulting cocktail is as explosive as an armed grenade, inflaming the hearts of all who hear it. If you also leave a true genius like Scott Colburn (Arcade Fire and Animal Collective) in charge of the fireworks, you're going to end up with a perfect recording.
Cali's writing has never been so skilful: he has abandoned painting navel-gazing self-portraits for a character that lets him tackle powerful, sometimes-painful themes. As the conductor of the extraordinary ensemble that is L’Espoir, he has succeeded in marrying the fire that burns within “1000 Cœurs Debout” with the water that hides in the creases of his eyes “Le Droit des Pères”. After all, don’t they say that, “Whatever we conceive well, we express clearly?”