By force of circumstances, he launched himself. Not to steal the show, not for praise or for his ego. But by dint of composing songs that never saw the light of day, the decision seemed obvious. At 33, Thibaut Sibella presents himself, perhaps for the first time in his life, completely naked. He has been playing with others for over 15 years, in two groups that reflect his ambivalent personality: rage (Tess, punk-hardcore) and thirst for discovery (The Yokel, folk-rock). And him, in all this, where does he place the cursor? Surely in this in-between. A chasm so vast and so deep that he has, for a long time, had so much trouble taming and defining its contours.
This is ultimately where we must look to try to define this new artistic project. A Thibaut Sibella without filters, without barriers, without belts, without nets. Without anyone to lend him a hand. This is perhaps where he draws what is deepest in him. This is where he exhumes his doubts, his anxieties, his fears, his love too and his hopes to extract pieces of raw, emotional, captive, sincere power, influenced by his mentors: Willie Watson, The Tallest Man on Earth, Bob Weir, The Chariot, Manchester Orchestra and the others…
So there he is, guitar in his hands, playing on the sensitive chord. The one that vibrates when you touch it. The one that squeaks when you attack it. The one that breaks when you upset it. Balanced on the neck, as on the emotions, always there to sway, without ever falling into excess. In his image.
This is ultimately where we must look to try to define this new artistic project. A Thibaut Sibella without filters, without barriers, without belts, without nets. Without anyone to lend him a hand. This is perhaps where he draws what is deepest in him. This is where he exhumes his doubts, his anxieties, his fears, his love too and his hopes to extract pieces of raw, emotional, captive, sincere power, influenced by his mentors: Willie Watson, The Tallest Man on Earth, Bob Weir, The Chariot, Manchester Orchestra and the others…
So there he is, guitar in his hands, playing on the sensitive chord. The one that vibrates when you touch it. The one that squeaks when you attack it. The one that breaks when you upset it. Balanced on the neck, as on the emotions, always there to sway, without ever falling into excess. In his image.
