Looney Tunes

The other week, for the first time ever: I saw Philippe Katerine.

After a seemingly disappointing bill for the Ardentes music festival  this year, I still took some advantage of the perk of having a free four-day pass and managed to catch some suprisingly entertaining shows. Although Wu Tang Clan didn't live up to expectations, Limp Bizkit kicked some proverbial ass on the Friday night, but I was still left feeling a little cheated, as a younger generation than mine reaped the rewards of a 90s retro line-up (I was several years the wrong side of 30).


Sunday afternoon was definitely more my cup of tea. Agnes Obel's dulcet tones rang hauntingly through the venue accompanied by her ethereal piano chords, but not quite evoking the jovial festival atmosphere I had in mind. The unexpected highlight of the afternoon was Congolese street band Staff Benda Bilili whose funky breakbeats were received better than anything I have ever seen at the Ardentes (who would've thought that Belgians can do the conga?)


A few beers later, accompanied by some old friends, I managed to squeeze my way to just a few yards from the foot of the stage to await what promised to be the show to end all shows: Philippe Katerine - French singer/songwriter famous for his eccentricities. Following his 3 musicians, the man himself made a grand entrance wearing a flamboyant dressing gown and with four young female dancers in tow. The gown was soon discarded to reveal a rather splendidly feminine flowered strappy jump suit, a stark contrast to the grizzly man underneath.


Katerine was every bit the eccentric that I had been led to believe. Every track bore witness to his dadaist sense of humour; from the nonsensical "Bla Bla Bla", to the intentionally naff "La Banane". The fact that he is no Sinatra is of little relevance when he can ingenously create a melody and build a track around something as banal as the sound that accompanies the ever-too-familiar warning, "Windows Explorer has done an illegal operation and has to shut down".

The dancing girls were a joy to watch; choreographed to the hilt and cute in their brightly coloured football kits and  knee-high socks.The audience whooped with delight when Katerine threw in the odd Liege colloquialism, mockingly chanting the word "oufti" which is the expletive of choice for my Liege compatriots. Bananas were thrown on stage, as is apparently the tradition at a Katerine gig, and there were regular cries of request for our hirsute friend to strip off and get naked.


For a moment, I thought he was only too happy to oblige - teasingly sliding down the odd strap, popping a button or provocatively lowering his waistband to groin level.  Despite his far from buff physique and ludicrous attire, Katerine still exuded an inkling of sexual energy through his confidence and sheer audacity, even when he stood in front of the crowd in nothing but a pair of unflatteringly stretchy mock denim undercrackers.

Entertaining as all this was, I am uncertain whether it

would translate well to an Anglophone culture.

The show’s air of the bizarre and slapstick adds up

to the kind of humour that is quintessentially français. Ooh là là.

Check out Katerine's website and help him catch those bananas.

Would I try it again?: Oufti.......oui!