Haute tension

Everything here is built on repetition - as if the street itself sets the rhythm, and phrases turn into percussion. “Ce n'est pas normal” sounds like an accusation, then like a mantra, followed by a pulsating groove that doesn't ask for permission: your feet move on their own.

The music here resembles a chaotic evening in the neighborhood - noisy, bold, with a touch of danger and irony. The words “voyou” and ‘bandit’ are delivered not with heavy pathos, but with a light, almost mocking tone. The result is a strange mixture of protest and party: everything seems to be wrong, “not normal,” but that is precisely where its normality lies - in the movement, the beat, and the endless “ça bouge tout seul.”