Pleyel 24.10.2017

Telegram sent on October 28, 2017 at 5:37 pm

Back on stage, after a two-year break.

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WATI WATIA ZOREY BAND – Zanz In Lanfér

Telegram sent on May 17, 2016 at 3:54 pm

SORTIE DE L’ALBUM LE 24 JUIN / CONCERT UNIQUE LE 14 JUIN AU CABARET SAUVAGE (Paris)

ALBUM RELEASE ON JUNE 24th / ONE-OFF CONCERT ON JUNE 14th AT “LE CABARET SAUVAGE” (Paris)

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Cet album est issu de la rencontre entre MORIARTY et MARJOLAINE KARLIN, suite à leurs nombreux voyages sur l’Ile de la Réunion.

Il fallait être plusieurs « zorèys » pour aborder au Pays des Merveilles d’Alain Peters.
Une langue aussi dense et fleurie qu’une forêt tropicale, des voix aussi perdues dans la réverb qu’un chant des sirènes, une aura d’icône insulaire, des vapeurs de rhum, un cœur nu… on voudrait être l’ami(e) qui tend la main au poète en perdition, mais on n’est que le collectif de musiciens qui allons reprendre ses morceaux.
Alain Peters est un monument de la musique réunionnaise, une idole locale, et qui plus est, les rythmes de l’océan indien sont réputés injouables, incompréhensibles pour les non-locaux. Il y a un pont à franchir, une passerelle à suspendre au-dessus des océans. Il ne faut pas traduire la langue créole pour la comprendre ; c’est son esprit qu’il faut tenter de saisir. Idem pour la musique. Il nous faut retrouver en nous-même, cet endroit intime d’où parle une langue secrète, mouvante, la langue de l’âme, du cœur, de l’imaginaire, une langue de résistance, fière et insoumise. Alain Peters s’exprime d’un endroit si profond, si juste, si simple et si sincère, si unique aussi, à la croisée des musiques, des religions, des continents… Entre catholicisme et hindouisme, Afrique et Occident, entre rock’n’roll et bal-la-poussière, entre star système et home-studio, il fait naître une perle rare d’un grain de sable dans le système.
Il fallait être plusieurs pour poursuivre les dialogues entamés par Alain Peters, nous sommes six : 2 chanteuses et 4 instrumentistes, pour retracer la descente d’un ange aux Enfers.

EN

This album was born from the meeting between MORIARTY and MARJOLAINE KARLIN, due to their many trips to the Reunion Island.

Several “zorèys” were needed to take on Alain Péters In Wonderland.
A language as dense and flowery as a tropical forest, voices as lost in the reverb as in the mermaid’s song, an iconic islander, the fumes of rum, an exposed heart… We’d like to be the friend who reaches out to the poet in distress, but we’re just a group of musicians covering his songs.
Alain Peters is a pillar of Reunion Island music, a local idol, and on top of that, the rhythms of the Indian Ocean are known to be unplayable, incomprehensible, for anyone who’s not a local.  There’s a bridge to get across, a suspension bridge over oceans.
You don’t translate the Créole language to understand it; it’s its spirit that must be captured.  Likewise for the music.  It needs to be found within, this intimate place where a secret language is spoken, moving, the language of the soul, of the heart, of imagination, a language of resistance, proud and rebellious.
Alain Peters expresses himself from a very deep place, so righteous, so simple and so sincere, so unique, too, at the crossroads of music genres, religions, continents… Between Catholicism and Hinduism, Africa and The Western World, between rock ‘n’ roll and “bal la poussière”, between the star system and a home studio, a rare pearl was born out of a grain of sand in the system.
Continuing the dialogue started by Alain Peters has required a lot. There are six of us: two singers and four musicians, retracing the steps of an angel’s descent into Hell.

Pre-order CD available / CD disponible en Pré-commande :

http://moriartyland.net/mall/product/pre-order-wati-w…anz-in-lanfer-cd/

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#EPIPHANY The first discovery

Telegram sent on March 30, 2016 at 8:16 pm

The box hidden behind “Diamonds Never Die” was the first one to be found… 

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Epiphany

Telegram sent on March 30, 2016 at 8:14 pm

“Fifteen years ago we started accumulating homemade recordings of songs, sketches and improvisations. A few of these made their way into the studios and became album songs. Countless others remained in the shadows of our archives, unfinished, unheard, forgotten. Yet these recordings have their own kind of magic: they bear witness to the process of collective songwriting; they capture the ephemereal instant of the birth of a song: elusive moments full of doubt, grace, and fragility. Epiphanies. 

For years we have wondered if, and how, we could share these forgotten songs with the audience…

Then, a year ago, as we were touring for our album Epitaph, we initiated a strange ritual: on the road, along the way, as we encountered places that seemed to resonate with the themes of our lyrics (travelling to the Afterworld, dancing with the Devil, talking with the ghosts and the spirits…) we decided to bury our forgotten songs in the ground. We stored them on USB flashdrives, sealed them inside bottles or tin boxes filled with little objects gathered from the tour, and hid them at precise spots in the earth, or behind rocks. It was like as if the songs belonged to these mystical places, these doors and thresholds to the Otherworld… And it felt like a strangely liberating, symbolic rite of passage: burying the music, so that one day it could resuscitate.

 

After a year of touring, we ended up with a network of fourteen caches, scattered around the world in seven coutries. And we realized that all those hidden songs formed together an underground album, a collection of lost songs that we named “Epiphany”.

 

How can people hear this music now, how can they find these buried songs? …

We wrote a series of enigmas leading to the exact spots where the bottles and boxes had been buried, using the tracklist of our album Epitaph as a treasure map, along with all the hints embedded within its lyrics, illustrations and films.

 

Now it’s up to the listeners to decipher the enigmas, travel to the hiding places in the middle of deserts, fields and forests, at the heart of foreign metropolises, and unearth these songs.

 

Everytime a song has been found, we will switch on its light on the map. And only when the fourteen lights have been turned on, like a multiple keys lock, will the album be unveiled and published on our site: a collection of songs at once virtual – streaming on an online musical map – and physical – embedded deep within the real world.”

 

Yours truly,

C., A., T., R., V., E. & Z. Moriarty

   
 

Access the map:

Access to Epiphany's map

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#EPIPHANY digging in the dirt…

Telegram sent on March 22, 2016 at 1:47 pm

burying songs for #Moriartytheband’s new enigma-album #Epiphany

digging in the dirt

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Volksbühne Berlin 30.01.2015

Telegram sent on August 23, 2015 at 2:46 pm

Moriarty on tour: Volksbühne, Berlin 30.01.2015. 

The next morning, we approach the Volksbühne, its massive presence commanding the Rosa-Luxemburg-Platz, its slick greystone face punctuated by a few words: OST. HÖREN. The Stimmung, the atmosphere is haunted by a century of history, left-wing activism, social fights and demonstrations. Entering the theater one feels projected fifty years back into the past. The old watchman in the booth. the service courtyards & corridors, the dressing-rooms, the rotating stage mechanism, everything has stopped in time. The foyers are lush and spacious, one imagines crowds in 1920s clothing swarming by. The grand circular auditorium lined with dark wooden panelling feels at once welcoming and huge… and we fear that the audience would feel intimidated by the solemn atmosphere, the cushioned seats. But the concert goes well and the new songs from Epitaph seem to find their way into the minds of the Berliner audience, they stand up and cheer and we feel their warmth. And how much we’ve missed playing in Berlin. Later in the night, as the snow falls slowly to cover the Rosa-Luxemburg Platz in a soft carpet, we walk away from the great stone monument and gather in a small bar nearby…the night ends in a wild snowball fight initiated by Tom. Fierce madness in the ice cold air. And I swear I can feel the old familiar smoky smell of the lignite bricks burning in the furnaces of Berlin. 

  

  

  

  

  

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Berlin 29.01.2015

Telegram sent on August 23, 2015 at 2:31 pm

Moriarty on tour: Berlin 29.01.2015

Back in Berlin after 3 years. January snow on Schönefeld and beige cabs. It’s freezing wet. The taxi driver, speaking with the Beh’lin twang, brings us to the Park Inn on Alexanderplatz. From the 35th floor window we watch the Fernsehturm soar like a lonely needle over the flat metropolis, rows and rows of DDR concrete blocks along the Karl Liebknecht-Straße. Lying on the hotel bed, curtains open, one can see its red lights flashing in the night, like robotic eyes watching over the inhabitants… In the morning we meet our german crew, Maren & Matthias who drive us all day through interview after interview, radio sessions and encounters. It’s hectic and beautiful to drive around town, from Mitte to Kreuzberg and back under the cold Winter sun. Acoustic gig on indie radio station Flux FM, in the attic of a former workshop facing the Spree, where the Wall used to be. From these windows, 26 years ago, one would stare right over the border, this was Kreuzberg’s furthest frontier, a place isolated from the rest of the world, forgotten by both East and West. This industrial building used to be inhabited by squatters and drifters, people driven here by choice or necessity, at the end of the world. Now the wheels have turned and it’s a communication hub… and that’s the way things go in Berlin. In the evening we go back to our 35th floor and shoot an in-depth interview with Tipstr.tv in the hotel room, before heading out into town, and spotting a strange, minimalist bright orange poster with our name on it in handwritten gothic lettering: the Volksbühne graphic stance stands out. 

    
    
   

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Musée de la Musique, Philharmonie II Paris 25.01.2015

Telegram sent on February 22, 2015 at 6:55 pm

Moriarty on tour: Philharmonie II (ex-Cité de la Musique) Paris 25.01.2015

10am, next morning, warmed up by the sunny sunday, we’re up to rehearse with our fellow musicians with whom we’re due to play acoustic shows in the afternoon: Irshad & Nishad Ali Kawa from Rajahstan, Wayne Standley from the US & Moriba Koïta from Mali (call it an international coalition!) It’s a speedy concentrated time, we go through Belle, Isabella and Fire Fire with the indian brothers, who are singing and playing tabla and harmonium with an unstoppable energy and candor that brings us back to our time in Mumbai in 2009… then we gather with our (spiritual) fathers Wayne & Moriba and try out Pretty Boy Floyd, Fireday, Private Lily. We barely have time to think or eat, already the visitors are flooding the Musée de la Musique, gathering among the century-old instruments, as Moriba & Wayne start the show, telling stories about their instruments and the roots of their music. Although they can’t speak each other’s language, they share something, a connection, and we can feel the odd similarity of their two characters, father-storytellers with the music in their guts and fingers. We join them for Pretty Boy Floyd. Half an hour later, Irshad & Nishad start playing their Qawwali (sufi music from the Indo-Pakistani area), and we join them for Isabella. Then at 5pm it’s our turn to play on the last floor of the museum, next to the mighty octobass, surrounded by the audience filling up the space and the balconies. We improvise a 30mn concert, ending with everybody, Wayne (on Oklahoma Hills), Moriba (on Fireday & Private Lily), Irshad & Nishad (on Belle). It’s beautiful when we hear the long, high powerful notes sung by the indian musicians reverberating far away on the concrete shell of the building.
At 7pm we’re back on the main stage of the Cité de la Musique to play the last show of this musical marathon weekend, followed in the main hall by our guests, the Ka’bossy orchestra from Madagascar.

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Philharmonie II 24.01.2015

Telegram sent on February 22, 2015 at 6:50 pm

Moriarty on tour: Philharmonie II (ex-Cité de la Musique) Paris 24.01.2015

Back in Paris, the big twisted shape of the Philharmonie rises in the smog-filled air, cranes and workers still struggling to finish the shiny cladding, while inside concerts are already taking place (and the architect notoriously refuses to appear at the inauguration and to sign a building he doesn’t recognize as his anymore). But anyways the organizers decided we would not get to play in the brand-new venue, but rather in the old Cité de la Musique where we played our “Before Dylan” gig two years ago: we’re a bit disappointed (and probably the audience too) but it’s not that bad at all… we like Portzamparc’s big elliptical room with its good, clear acoustics. Dressing-rooms cosy like a little apartment, overlooking these artificial streets where we watch the audience queue up in a long line stretching from the entrance. Tonight is a soldout show for 1400 people, we will play almost the entirety of our new album Epitaph, And together with photo and film-artist Clément Deuve we’ve prepared a surprise for the aftershow, a super-8 video movie that was filmed a few years ago: Julie Gold’s Candy Cane Tale.
Later in the night, our friend Megan Awesome -who just flew in from Brooklyn- makes the people dance like madmen in the hall. We cannot, however, celebrate for too long because next morning we have to rehearse at 10am for the next gigs…

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Grenoble 16.01.2015

Telegram sent on February 8, 2015 at 5:53 pm

Moriarty on tour: La Belle Electrique, Grenoble 16.01.2015
Early morning concert, live on the radio, performing “Ain’t no Sunshine” with Richard Lornac, we’re exhausted from a few sleepless nights. La Belle Electrique is a brand new building built by local architects Herauld & Arnod, who also built the Metaphone (where we performed a few months ago). In fact tonight will be the first public concert ever to be played in this venue. Heavy, heavy rainfalls keep us inside the building. Even the massive dark presence of the mountains is obscured by the fog. We rehearse with tonight’s special guests: the Mountain Men. Ian the tall harmonica player from Wollongong, strolls around barefoot, telling us stories about Australian mining-towns.

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