It was in Bristol 20 years ago that Francois Marry started the Atlas Mountains project. Working as a French tutor, he was playing around with electronic instruments and sketching soulful snapshots of the city. Their first album was released on Bristol micro label Stitch-Stitch, before signing to Domino and bringing out a flurry of excellent albums in the early teens.
Despite leaving this city, it clearly still holds onto his heart. In fact, cheerily coming on stage in an oversized suit, it is his heart that Francois pounds first with a single word uttered – “Bristol.” Opening song Où mène la nuit is followed by one that Francois wrote in remembrance of Easton’s Toxic Dancehall, Slow Steps in the Snow, and the female vocal-woven Le Fil, all standout tracks from this year’s album Âge Fleuve.
The new album in full of reminiscences and memories, in part a reaction to the death of Francois’ father during covid. In his words, it takes in the “rivers of time” and how we’re never stepping in the same water twice. Adorer, here introduced as a glitchy, mellow and warm version before kicking into its dancefloor pop after a couple of verses, is about “having a good present moment.” Elsewhere, Francois recalls his first gigs playing a £3.50 casio keyboard with his toes (and knives stuck to the keys) and £3 guitar, both bargains from a car boot sale.
This is all very well, but the band backs up such voyages into the memory bank with an excellent tight sound, and the tracks sound better live than on tape, becoming energised, funkier and ready to fill dancefloors. Francois himself whirls and contorts himself around the stage whipping his long hair, looking with his chiselled jawline like David Ginola trying to escape a couple of wasps. His guitar work shimmers with highlife and afrobeat licks, as in fan favourite Les Plus Beaux. He notes that he’s off to Cosies after the gig for a jungle and hardcore night, the perfect release after a show full of life and heart.