A new album on the horizon from Détroit, with the inevitable opening of the can of worms that surround Bertrand Cantat.
If there was no baggage accompanying this new track I’d be
welcoming it. I’ve been a fan of Noir Désir since the ‘90s and to
these ears this sounds exactly the kind of music that they’d be making today if
things had not gone the way they did. But I know what he did and I’m appalled by
it. While it’s easier to ignore Cantat and move on, I admit to being conflicted.
Can an artist be forgiven and allowed to move on? Cantat is by
no means the first significant artist to have behaved abominably, many have
long been rehabilitated by critics with only a few paragraphs in their
biography to establish the ‘troubled’ nature of their creativity. William
Burroughs shot his wife, Keith Moon killed his bodyguard and Sid Vicious killed
his girlfriend. All are regarded as legends in their own right now, with only
passing reference to what they did. Meanwhile, the 1970s were rife with high-profile
musicians whose behaviour would merit a ten-year sentence these days.
So why is Cantat so vilified? Maybe because we expected better.
During the peak years of NoirDez Cantat was always one of the good guys.
Approachable – one of the few French music legends I met in the early ‘90s. When
he came into the exhibition I worked at in Paris, he casually spoke with staff
who recognised him without pretention or attitude, just happy to chat with people
who wanted to spend a few minutes with him. And in a country that’s always been
divided, he was always on the right side. Against racism, against the follies
of the old guard, in favour of a better country that practiced the best values
of the republic, tolerance as well as equality, freedom and solidarity.
He never had a reputation for violence or misogyny, but that was all undone though his actions. Whether or not he intended to kill Marie Trintignant or not, he did, and it was a consequence of him beating her, a clear-cut case of violence against women. No excuse.
Cantat was found guilty, sentenced and paroled after several years. Are convicts allowed to reform? Are people who have done wrong allowed to rebuild their lives? He’ll never be free from what he did, and Trintignant’s family will always be faced with her absence. I understand that his continued presence in the public eye must be a continual re-run of their trauma.
He’ll never be regarded the same way as he was before, but
can we take their new release on face value? I don’t think that’s ever going to
be possible.
But Cantat’s situation makes us debate some of the bigger
questions, about morality, justice and philosophy, and about the very nature of
the society we want to live in. There are no easy answers here, just more questions
the deeper you go.