1991 - CD
Description : Lost love
Le disque parle de sa relation amoureuse avec Lisa Suckdog, des USA, de la haine, du sentiment d'être un raté en musique (par exemple dans la chanson « King Of Rock'n'roll ») et en amour (« I Lost Lisa »). Musicalement j'aime beaucoup : à côté des morceaux énervés se trouvent de belles et tristes chansons d'amour déçu au piano. Ma préférée est l'avant-dernière piste « The End Of The Trail » où Costes parle de sa rencontre avec une Indienne qui lui évoque les ancêtres indiens qui faisait des peintures dans les grottes. J'aime beaucoup.
Auteur : Sophie Diaz
Costes is the ultimate DIY rocker of the French Underground. He’s vile, prolific, poignant, crazy, unlistenable, pop. The End Of The Trail is the seventh of his releases and his third album to be recorded in English. While some would argue that Lung Farts is an equal masterpiece, The End Of The Trail is a nineteen-song homage to his breakup with indie icon Lisa Suckdog Carver, and a more moving love letter has never been recorded. Splatters of filth and sonic mess hide the sentimentality, but the beauty shines through, triumphantly sad beneath layers of disgust and ugly noise. A classical sonnet will dissolve into layered muddle punctuated by overblown vocals, only to be reduced a moment later to a vulnerable whimper as a multitude of schizophrenic emotions battle for dominance. Costes plays, sings, manipulates, produces and destroys every track in utter solitude, shining through on borderline narcissistic tracks like “King of Rock’N Roll, Sort Of” and “I Don’t Want to Be a Souvenir on a CD Player.” His music is from necessity; he cannot help himself. It is the document of modern humanity as representative of his era’s id as Gainsbourg was of his.
Lauded by the likes of Thurston Moore and the odd rock journalist, Costes remains virtually unknown, even in his own country, a special gem without genre. (Costes has claimed Daniel Johnston and GG Allin as musical kin, though he resembles neither.) He has been shunned, sued and attacked for his uncompromisingly viscous aesthetic. Still, at the time of this writing he has over thirty recordings to his credit and he shows no signs of slowing.
Site Lost In The Grooves
One day I was surfing the Net looking for some nude pictures of Lisa Suckdog (don't ask where my fascination for her came from) and along the way I stumbled upon an interesting web site for this French guy Costes. My attention span being what it is, I found myself immediately distracted by this amazing frog who releases CDs almost as fast as Wesley Willis. I quickly decided to email Mr. Costes, figuring that at the worst I would be told to go to hell and at the most I might score a free CD out of the deal. Two weeks later, my package from France arrives. Inside were three Costes CDs; Jap Jew, No Sex Boy (with Toshi Hiraoka) and The End Of The Trail. All three are abrasive, angry, psychotic & atonal, pure, unadulterated genius.
The End of the Trail : 19 tracks dedicated to the demise of Costes' relationship between Lisa Suckdog and himself. Spiraling out of control, the Costes persona stalks Lisa Suckdog across the continents with a stream of consciousness noisefest. I don't blame Costes one damn bit for going ballistic over the loss of the beloved Suckdog. I've never even met the woman and for some reason I'm enamored with her as well (and that's just based on one 7", a couple of photos and a video of her yelling about GG Allin in an attic dressed in the sexiest black underwear you will ever see). Good luck Costes, I hope you get her back. If not, I hope I get a crack at her.