ALBI. Guitar Break: A sea of people for Sting...

Outings. In Albi, the July 4th evening brought together all generations, drawn by Sting's arrival. But long before the legend took the stage, the energy continued to build, between vibrant discoveries and shared emotions.

As soon as the doors opened, the first fans crowded against the barrier. It was barely 6:30 p.m., the sun was still high, but nothing weakened the patience of those who came to claim their prime spot. On the Pratgraussals site, excitement mounted. The heart of the evening? Sting's arrival.

It was 25-year-old Londoner Matilda Mann who opened the show. A budding revelation, she wove her unique voice between melancholic folk, indie rock, and ultra-effective pop. Everything about her stage presence exudes accuracy, humor, and touching restraint: "This is my first time in Toulouse." "Albi, Albi, Albiiiiii" the audience roars. On Say It Back, she launches into action and says, "Favorite show ever." The most intimate moment? Girls, dedicated to her childhood friends. A song like an open letter, suspended between nostalgia and gratitude.

The stage then transforms for Lucky Love, a rising star with an already remarkable career. Flamboyant looks, boundless energy, sharp humor, and raw emotion. He's been eagerly awaited since the Paralympic Games Opening Ceremony. He delivers with an incandescent concert, blending rock, tenderness, and commitment. On stage, he gives it his all. He sings about love and freedom, and calls on the audience to fight against patriarchy. He fervently reminds us that "we must work for a world at peace," before disappearing to a standing ovation.

Sting, bass slung over his shoulder, straight silhouette, unbroken smile. 73 years old, and not a wrinkle in his voice or demeanor. The legend is alive and well, and he attacks hard: Message in a Bottle. Crisp beats, an intro instantly recognizable. "Tac-tac-tac-tac" starts off quickly, it hits you in the guts. In the crowd, there are many forty-somethings, fifty-somethings, sometimes their children. Everyone knows it. Everyone sings along. "Sting is our whole life," whispers Éric, a loyal festival-goer, his eyes shining. And that evening, this collective life takes shape again. The Police's songs follow one after the other, elegantly rearranged, carried by musicians of formidable precision. The sound is clear, the fervor intact. The artist doesn't overplay anything. He delivers with a class all his own, between universal hits, humanist messages, and a pop-rock groove that never lets up.

There's a calm joy about him, a stage presence. That of the greats, who have nothing left to prove, but continue to give their all. The audience knows it. They dance, they sing, they applaud, with that special gratitude we reserve for artists who have lived through the ages with us.

To close this grand evening, Kimberose takes over. With a powerful voice and a luminous presence, she navigates jazz, soul, and pop, driven by a Franco-British-Ghanaian heritage. She plays the tracks from her latest album, Roses, with gentleness and intensity, punctuating the night with a sensual and vibrant breath. The audience lets themselves be carried away until the last notes, their eyes still full of stars.

A July 4th to remember. Albi vibrated. Pause Guitare lived up to its promise.

(c) Le Tarn Libre by Sylvie LECOULES