Antimatter was back in Paris, AT LAST: how can such a cult project be so rare in our country? We hadn't seen Mick Moss on stage since a gig at Le Klub in 2014... and before that, apart from a few intimate acoustic concerts in a pub in the fifth arrondissement, nada. It's understandable that the artist finds it difficult to cross the Channel. Yet he was giving his last concert of 2025 at Supersonic Records, with his full band and amps plugged in. It was impossible to miss, especially as the rain set the perfect mood in the capital for listening to Antimatter.
Before that, Tina Rilli welcomed the audience who had gathered in the tiny space of the former record shop converted into a concert hall. The artist alternates between intimate solo folk/ambient tracks and others where, accompanied by her band, the sound becomes denser. The audience listens respectfully to this short introduction, which lasts only long enough for everyone to get in the venue. We huddle together, step on each other's toes, say ‘oops, sorry’, and everyone tries to find a 20cm square corner where we can spend the next few hours as comfortably as possible. The Antimatter musicians make their way through the crowd as best they can. It seems that some explorers reach the bar, which we hear vaguely about from the stories of the most intrepid travellers. It all seems so far away, so unreal, and would require braving the dangers of an overly compact crowd: too many toes separate us from the bar, so we have no certainty about its existence and we urge you to take these stories with a pinch of salt: perhaps they are just rumours to scare the little ones.
This year, Antimatter celebrated the twenty-fifth anniversary of their first album. However, this did not mean that the tour would be devoted solely to Saviour: in recent years, Mick Moss has seemed somewhat nostalgic. Indeed, his last two albums, Parallel Matter and A Profusion of Thoughts, feature alternative versions of old tracks and previously unreleased material that had been gathering dust over the past two and a half decades... but none of these tracks are played live! Nevertheless, the setlist follows a similar path, exploring the project's history and discography, beginning with the contained tension of Existential, where the sound of David Hall's violin and Mick Moss's voice stop all conversation. We fall silent, listen and embark on this unique journey, influenced by trip-hop, doom, progressive rock... or even gothic metal, but less heavy and saturated (the original line-up of Antimatter included Duncan Patterson, a former member of Anathema, whose work in the 2000s is similar to that of Antimatter). Given the average age of the audience, it's clear that nostalgia isn't just felt by the singer...
Whatever the era, whether the songs are more subdued or more confrontational, Antimatter never strays from its melancholy and elegance. The first part of the concert is mainly devoted to songs from the last ten years, which are more intense: Killer, Can of Worms... When Saviour and Angelic ring out, the parts once sung by Michelle Richfield and Hayley Windsor are now obviously performed by Moss. The journey through time continues with The Freak Show and Landlocked, whose introspective, autumnal atmosphere plunges us into a comfortable greyness, despite the red spotlights of the Supersonic. Along the way, we are also treated to a very classy cover of Dead Can Dance's Black Sun.
Despite the heaviness of the music, you can sense that Moss wants to communicate, but the band carries on, except for a quick ‘la santé’ in French as he takes a sip of beer. Shortly before the end of the concert, he explains: the curfew is very strict, so they have to keep going. We'll chat later, there's no time to leave the stage for the encore ritual (and given the density of the crowd, it's a gamble that they might never be able to get back). After an intense finale where Leaving Eden finds itself between the more in-your-face Monochrome and Paranova, one could imagine leaving the venue on that note, haunted by this tortured mood. But that's without counting on the band's warm thanks and Moss's humour as he introduces his colleagues: we learn that their drummer Fab Regmann also has the difficult task of ‘being gorgeous’ and that bassist/colossus Paul Holligan serves as their personal trainer... He lets slip a few ‘fucks’, apologises to the children (don't worry Mick, most of the audience were born during the Cold War), and we smile at this moment of complicity.
Above all, a promise does not fall on deaf ears: after this sold-out evening, Antimatter promises to return to France soon, since it seems that there is finally an audience! But that's not all! Moss announces that he is going to be a grandfather and that his offspring will be half French... so he will have to learn the language! There's one person in the crowd who will be delighted, the one who, after Moss said it was the last date of the year, asked the drummer, ‘vous jouez où tomorrow ? Où ça, tomorrow ?’ ('where do you play tomorrow ?', to which poor Regmann could only reply, ‘Cash, no credit cards,’ looking worried but polite)... This funny fellow headed next to the singer to thank him while scolding him for his sweat-soaked jumper! ‘Hey, thank you mais pourquoi tu gardes ça, tu vas être malade, thank you, you malade !’ ("thank you but why do you keep that on, you're gonna be sick !"). Next time, Moss, who warmly smiled back at him, might understand something... So with all that, we hope to see him again before ten years have passed!
