“œThe end of a party is the nicest thing”, says Jessica around 4 am in the morning on the 9th floor of a Southern Moscow apartment. I couldn”™t agree more. The coolest people hang around, people sit, smoke, stare and listen. The stereo plays “˜Noir Desir”™, ever good French band with an imprisoned front man. “œDo you know what the kids-choir sings in the end?”, she asks. When I listened again it figured that even a French rock band seems to know a word of Russian.

Noir Desir – L’Homme Presse

Love, love love
Dit-on en Amerique
“˜Lyubov“™ Russie, ex-Sovietique
Amour ““ aux quatre coins de France.

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