Ten years ago, we discovered this strange thing, three oiled-up guys with incredible energy who were dynamiting a French industrial metal scene whose last tremors were beginning to age. They had a strange name (‘who the hell is this Chaârlhot everyone is calling?’) and their exhilarating mix of violence and fiesta encouraged the audience, still not very large, to be as wild and stupid as possible. We came out of their performances filthy, happy, and with the feeling that this thing, which came out of nowhere but already showed a lot of ambition, wasn't going to stop there. Since then, the black wave has spread. From three on stage, they've grown to four, then five, then six (or even eight, depending on the song). We've seen them in a small bar in the suburbs with free entry, we've seen them pack out bigger and bigger venues: today Shaârghot have become one of the major bands on the French metal scene and were celebrating their tenth anniversary at La Cigale.
For the occasion, the prestigious Paris venue was bathed in the green light of the band's universe, while troopers from this futuristic dystopian world patrolled the crowd, an anachronistic contrast to the elegant theatre décor of La Cigale. A curtain hid the stage, and a costumed actor reprised his role from the Black Wave clip/short film to tease the audience before the start of the concert, the wait becoming another part of the show... They've taken great care with the decor, and the fact that a DJ set by a certain StrYder opens the evening somehow reinforces this immersion: it's a bit like turning up to a clandestine party in the middle of the Hive City. You get your groove on to the sounds of Tool, HEALTH, Skinny Puppy, Ministry and Nine Inch Nails. Meanwhile, the venue's sound system spits out tracks from the Doom Eternal and Cyberpunk 2077 OSTs, and the queue for the merch stand intimidates the bravest. There's something in the air and when you see the attention to detail on the fringes of the concert, you get the feeling that the show is going to be memorable. Shaârghot have never skimped on resources when it comes to treating their audience with everything they've got.
Coincidence? Shaârghot were celebrating ten years on stage on Valentine's Day. But at this venue, where the pit is beginning to swarm with Shadows, it was more Steven (Cigale, hum...) than Valentine, more a smack in the face than a kiss. It's an absolute tornado from the first seconds. The ritual at the start remains unchanged and the concert begins as the album Vol. III - Let Me Out, between this already epic introduction and the ultra-violent eponymous track. Yet, ‘as usual‘ doen't really mean anything with Shaârghot: anything can happen in the pit, and in fact anything does happen (’I think a shoe just went over my head’, one asks during the first moments).
Gig after gig, Shaârghot continue to improve. In recent years, the light show has evolved into a succession of demented and majestic tableaux, all of which can be properly rendered thanks to the technique at La Cigale. We've seen this troupe evolve to become increasingly charismatic characters whose theatrical performance, with its vivid colours, sometimes evokes comic-book panels, while their postures, sublimated by the lighting, become iconic. What's surprising about this evening is how everything seems just right, everything is perfect. There's the impeccable technique, certainly, with a sound that does justice to all the layers and subtleties of the tracks, but we're also surprised by the Shaârghot's singing, more in control than usual... Perhaps, with the two-hour concert announced, he decided to spare himself a little. Spitting out your vocal cords is fun, but not necessarily a good idea if you want to last the whole set.
And then, after a handful of the usual Now Die, Bang Bang or Traders Must Die, comes a little breathing space. A layer, a rising melody. Something we haven't heard for years, something that seems to spring up from far away, something we recognise but has grown up along the way: Uman iz Jaws, which used to be their opening track but hadn't been played for a long time, rings out and is the first big surprise of the evening. The song has been reworked so as not to clash with the more recent, fuller tracks, but its simple, fearsome melody has lost none of its power. Shaârghot pulls out its arachnoid mask, it's like being back in a small club 9 years ago except the crowd is four times bigger, we don't break our kneecaps on a low stage and everything is bigger and crazier (except us, because we're getting old). We've got the same insane flavour, the same feeling of proximity, the same chaos... but in one of the most beautiful venues in Paris!
With a two-hour show, there had to be a setlist to match. Étienne Bianchi, the mastermind behind the whole thing, told us in an interview that his old tracks didn't quite measure up. Returning to the frenzy of Mad Party (and of course the balloons - eye), the fury of The Way and above all Shaârghot, whose facelift is the most obvious, makes you want to contradict him. On the latter, the melodies and heaviness have been boosted, and it's monumental, theatrical, apocalyptic. Let's hope that bringing them out from their closet will make the band want to play them again! The show is also peppered with atmospheric breaks, transitions that remind us of Shaârghot's talent for bringing cinematic atmospheres to life (Ghost in the Walls, superb)... so much so that we hope to hear them pushing ever further in that direction!
Brun'O Klose's guitar spits sparks, Skarskin clowns around and throws fake money into the crowd, the Mantis lurk in the shadows, and time flies. On stage, the musicians entertain the crowd: walls of death, circle pits, and people jump left and right, yippee-yippee. After about an hour, you realise that you'd normally be nearing the end. We're only halfway through, and fortunately that hour has gone by in the blink of an eye. After AZERTY, the band play the ‘goodbye, that's all for today’ trick. No shit, we believe you. Skarskin takes the stage, phone in hand. The Shaârghot's answering machine rings, asking if we want some more songs. It's a recognisable ringtone: the band play the nod to Pain's Shut Your Mouth right to the end, before launching into Something in my Head, one of the big surprises from the last album, which had never been played live before. From the back of the room, you can hear ‘oh fuck, yes!'. The performance was visceral and in the spirit of the bittersweet, melancholy and angry emotion of Are You Ready? played a little earlier. It was another highlight of the evening. And then, after the anthemic Shadows and all that gutsy rage and cathartic despair, it's over for real. In a final tableau, the band take their bows. The curtain slowly closes and, in the final moments, before disappearing for good, you almost expect Shaârghot to give us a ‘That's all, folks!".
La Cigale is emptying out and the black wave is smiling, but also a starting to feel blue. The show's over. We won't be seeing another one like this for a long time. For ten years now, Shaârghot's insane energy and generous, ambitious staging has been offering audiences something unique. It exuded passion and hard work, and you could feel that this show had been given special attention. It was their best concert yet, the pinnacle of a first half career that commands respect. The best thing about it all is that, even if you come away feeling nostalgic for this incredible moment, nostalgic for the old songs you've rediscovered for perhaps just this one exceptional moment, you're also dying to discover what's next and see where they're going to take us in the future.
