Théa

and L-D-21-490 (L3)).THÉA takes the figurehead position of a generational surge that is as casual as it is insolent, in which "kidz fucked up" become "new h4rdr0ck3rs", embodying a new phenomenon that turns everything on its head. THÉA does not gloss over the wounds of the past. Surely so as never to forget how hard it sometimes was to free oneself from the yoke of other people's gaze and from constant stigmatisation. That which wounds, but which has thus allowed her to write the songs she describes as "tear shops", as she expressed in an earlier track. THÉA still seeks poetry in the territory of the strange and in the unpredictable energy of live shows. Where bodies become a political weapon of emancipation and freedom. Like the party, insofar as it is a way of creating a new space that does not exist within social norms. THÉA builds her journey with the memory, lodged in the body, of that first improvised concert in a squat in Montreuil as lockdown ended. An act of agitprop and of survival. Now she says she feels "too beautiful on stage", with the endless pleasure of interaction nourished by this foundation of intersectionality. For her, music does not have the function of repairing, quite the contrary: "music is not a 'safe place'. It is instead a place of catharsis, and of pains intermingled". Music as the ideal vector for pursuing her restlessness and this ardent, feverish desire for perpetual endangerment. Writing feelings and furies that frighten her. This life of a woman on the run is indeed filled with dreams as dangerous as they are saving. © Didier Varrod

THÉA takes the figurehead position of a generational surge that is as casual as it is insolent, in which "kidz fucked up" become "new h4rdr0ck3rs", embodying a new phenomenon that turns everything on its head. THÉA does not gloss over the wounds of the past.

Surely so as never to forget how hard it sometimes was to free oneself from the yoke of other people's gaze and from constant stigmatisation. That which wounds, but which has thus allowed her to write the songs she describes as "tear shops", as she expressed in an earlier track.

THÉA still seeks poetry in the territory of the strange and in the unpredictable energy of live shows. Where bodies become a political weapon of emancipation and freedom. Like the party, insofar as it is a way of creating a new space that does not exist within social norms.

THÉA builds her journey with the memory, lodged in the body, of that first improvised concert in a squat in Montreuil as lockdown ended. An act of agitprop and of survival.

Now she says she feels "too beautiful on stage", with the endless pleasure of interaction nourished by this foundation of intersectionality. For her, music does not have the function of repairing, quite the contrary: "music is not a 'safe place'.

It is instead a place of catharsis, and of pains intermingled". Music as the ideal vector for pursuing her restlessness and this ardent, feverish desire for perpetual endangerment. Writing feelings and furies that frighten her.

This life of a woman on the run is indeed filled with dreams as dangerous as they are saving. © Didier Varrod