Crocodiles

The first time I ever met them was on last February 23rd, in Tourcoing, near Lille. They were supporting White Lies show. When I first saw them, I thought their sound was not that bad, but I couldn't stand them. What the hell was that band, with black sunglasses, without any look for the audience, spitting everywhere, not even bothering to say thank you at the end of their show? They seemed so pretentious to me, so arrogant, and so distant from the audience. I didn't they feel like there was a real sharing between them and the crowd. So I bounced politely my head on the rythm of their music, but I wasn't convinced.

The second time was in Toulouse. Let's say it, I wasn't enthusiastic about seeing them again, even though the song Summer Of Hate drew my attention a bit. But still, I wanted them to leave the stage as quick as possible.

The third time, in Barcelona, I was so overwhelmed by Transfer's performance who played right before them, that I couldn't help myself but feel angry at them,  so pissed off to see them back, shutting down the wonderful feeling their fellows from San Diego had just given me. So I refused to be receptive. At that very moment, I hated them.
The fourth time, I told myself that was enough. As a young woman who's been dreaming for ages to be the leadsinger of her rockband, shutting myself to a band working hard to be successful, was very selfish, and kinda cruel, even if I didn't like the impression they gave me. So I danced  and sang good-heartedly, as if I were a fan.

But I got really convinced on the fifth time, in Bordeaux. Seeing them so friendly, so close with the Transfer guys, who counts definitely among the nicest boys in the world, I stopped trusting appearances for good, and let their music reach me completely, and HOLY CHRIST, it felt SO GOOD!
After that show, I saw Crocodiles melting with the crowd for the very first time, with their buddies of Transfer. Like every night, I chatted with the Transfer guys, and one thing went to another, I talked with Andy the drummer about Brussels show the week following. I explained I bought trains tickets for Brussels, even if I didn't get the chance to buy a ticket for the show before it was sold out, but that I intended to try and find a ticket to buy there, to an hypothetical resaler. When Andy heard that, despite me begging him not to, he insisted for asking Anna, the Croc drummer, if she could add me on the Brussel show guest list. Anna kindly agreed, with a lovely "Pas de problèmes!". I felt so embarrassed! I wanted so badly to thank them in some way. So I told myself it would be the perfect occasion to tell them how outstanding artists they were, when I saw Charles the guitarist, all by himself at this very moment. He gave a look in my direction, and smiled politely. I started to walk bravely towards him, but when I came at inches from him, my rush of bravery disappeared at once, and I hurried away without a word, blushing. I don't know why, but they make me shy. I don't dare to talk to them.

Then, for the next three shows, I was really happy to see them again. And in Brussels, the last show of Ritual tour, I was truly sad to leave them. 

A few days after getting back home, I bought all of their discography, and a ticket for their show in Paris on next week. I'm counting the days, because I miss them, I really do.