'I received a disc in my mailbox. Gil Rose has struck again, this voice, this way of singing so singular, these stubborn enchanting arrangements. Gil Rose picked us, he do it his own way, without artifice, with elegance, with surrealism (Swiss or Belgian or whatever you want), insolence and emotion : an imaginary line drawn somewhere between CbGB's-Max's, Colette Magny, the nonsense, the Great Game and the ''congés payés'', the "Nationale 7'' from our childhood, waste grounds and green meadows. Gil Rose is that Rimbaud layabout, that glam Jacques Bertin on LSD of Jacobites obedience, the young modern Germain Nouveau of fifty years old. Thank you Gil for this wonderful and exhilarating surprise in my mailbox. Thank you to delight us. Oh! ''Monsieur Meteo'' ! These wonderful clouds. I received a disc in my mailbox, a Rose bouquet would have made me less effect '' Merle Leonce Bone, Feb 2016.