On Saturday nights, along the cemetery of Père Lachaise, there is a herd of little dirty bars
where you can listen music and drink cheap beer. Here a reggae-raga muffin singer,
there a fan of country, over there a piece of brass band.

Tonight we go to see Dgiz, the unclassifiable. He improvises lyrics playing bass,
with Michaël Havard (aka Wakko) playing saxophone. The magic of Dgiz is that you never know
what is going to come out from his mouth: a smutty joke, a brilliant game of word,
a melody or a scream, this is a russian roulette. The public, cramped between the counter
and the musicians, try to dance on the colorful stone floor. Sometimes Dgiz breaks the beat
and provoke them. The time stops. Then the bass comes back, the saxophone introduce a melody,
and here we go again.