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I can’t deny that the atmosphere was intoxicating and I will not say that I was a passive observer as the curious melange from France pounded the captive crowd with their unique blend of Arabic melodies, Afro-Cuban rhythm, French chanson, and Bohemian influence. One moment the music would rush away as if it were going somewhere in a hurry and the audience would be left gasping for air. Then Lo’Jo would just switch to something utterly haunting as the beautiful Yamina broke out her saxophone or Bourreau, caught in a world of his own, drew out elegant melodies on his violin. In a way, Lo’Jo didn’t just play their instruments. They played the crowd as well. They fiddled over the heartstrings and thumped out complex rhythms on the chests of the throng before them and, when they finally took the bow at the end of their session, Rupert was screaming at the top of his voice for more… of Lo'Jo and (naturally) of Yamina. Yummylicious. Yummy Yamina.
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