7 years ago, Cachemire kicked rock'n'roll's heels in the door, proving to purists that rock wasn't the preserve of English phrasing. In 2018, 2nd album in the same "rockailleuse" vein and confirmation - if there was still any doubt - that the 4 boys were not an accident. A straw. That we were on the verge of fireworks. With Dernier Essai, could the adage "never 2 without 3" be true? The answer is yes. Definitely yes. Definitely yes. And pardon the easy rugby pun, but the test is well and truly transformed (like the eponymous song). Sublimated even. You might have thought that this 3rd album would sound like a final round, a last lap, a heartfelt epitaph that closes the band with a "Allez vous faire foutre. We're off". Not so. Cachemire is here and now, with the irrepressible desire to raise awareness of our contradictions and the colossal stakes that await us. In the raging guitars of "Je", the band denounces the egocentricity - even the egotism - of Man and his little "h" of humanity. "Influenceur", with its galloping, heady refrain, puts the finger on our binary, Manichean society, manipulative and manipulated behind our screens of smoke and mirrors. As for "Freeman", it questions our - pseudo? - freedom to act and think. But in the midst of this apneic descent, there are breaths of fresh air, including a children's chorus ("Les Petits Poings") and a heart of love ("Plus Tu Me"), reminding us that, in the end, that's all that matters. More than moralistic messages, the group invites us to "watch" 14 short films. Because, yes, Cachemire doesn't judge or lecture. But it does observe, note, feel and ask us a very simple question: what can we do now to prevent the galley from becoming a wreck? Well, we open it. We scream. We scream. We let loose. With force and riffs. Aficionados will rediscover the spiciness, the salt, the abrasive "punk rock" paste of the band. It plays. Hard. Cadence. Fast. No downtime. No slackening. Nerve in the bone. Tense in the artery. But the console cursor is now a notch higher. Not in power. In subtlety. There's mischief in this Dernier Essai. At the turn of a big guitar or a hard-tapped drum, a flight of strings, the roundness of brass, the fingering of a banjo or the reminiscence of an 80's sound. Fred Bastar still has that peppery edge to his voice, but now it's open to other paths. Crossroads. Higher. Higher. As if she'd assumed herself. At last. Cachemire's 3rd album is an album of amplitude. The rib cages of the bodies, the resonance boxes of the instruments, go off the beaten track, spread out and take the place they were meant to, thanks to the more audacious arrangements of François Maigret "Shanka" from No One Is Innocent. This Dernier Essai is far from being a sketch. It's a master stroke in the plexus. And, at the same time, it gives us a glimpse of the range of possibilities now open to Cachemire. Because, believe it or not, the 4 boys have not finished showing us what they've got under the hood. Cachemire is velvet.