The French touch is first and foremost me, since it no longer exists in the music world. But before that, there was a strong current in which a few electronic salmon swam, including AIR, whom I managed to see, against all odds, on Monday evening. I'd snubbed them when they played at the Olympia on March 7, preferring the exhausting punk-rock band Idles. But at the Philharmonie, no concert is too good to pass up. Especially not the one celebrating the centenary of Moon Safari. Thanks to a friend I can't name, but who works at Radio France and has slept with the most influential guys in Paris, I was able to get my seat. And what a seat it was. In the first balcony, right between Jack Lang and Bernard Lavilliers. That says a lot about the expectations of such an event. After an interminable 45-minute opening set, performed by a single woman, they arrived in their glittering shoebox to launch La Femme d'Argent. It was a pleasure to hear live this record that rocked my '98 so many times. But it wasn't until the second half of the album that a bit of a thrill finally appeared, and the idea that this first album was also their best, with a style imbued with strong serenity but also melancholy. Some of the tracks could have been featured in an episode of Chapi Chapo. The stage set-up was insane, even if at times the lighting effects were reminiscent of something you might find in the windows of a Vuitton boutique. They succeeded, despite the total lack of communion with the audience, in making the people present happy. It was all very well.