snippet from the article written by Peter Lissens:
Candy Hotel, New York, New York
In Canada, recently, the group came to play by invitation. Here, in New-York, they more or less invited themselves. Manager Tom Van Dingenen managed to warm up a number of bonzes to Balthazar’s groovy pop sound. Atlantic, among others, has already shown interest. And Big Hassle, the publicity company behind Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and Kings of Leon. Representative Brooke Black makes no bones about it: ‘ Balthazar has international potential. They have their own catchy sound, with vocals that blend perfectly. At the same time, their grooves remind me of Sly & the Family Stone. What they need now is a partner who invests in them and is as driven as they are themselves.’
The group and its limited entourage travel on a budget: 3 or 4 of them shack up in a hotel room that looks more like a skylight. In the saggy sofa of the wilted lounge (“For Hotel Guests Only”), a drunk is sleeping it off. On the agenda, apart from two concerts: a visit to the Dakota Building where John Lennon was shot, lunch at Balthazar restaurant, a Manhattan drink in Manhattan and buying pants ‘at the Brooklyn in Brooklyn’. A good ten hours after elevator off in Zaventem, the first of those resolutions is realized. The evening is completed immediately after with a party in Jinte and Maarten’s room: a bottle of Coke, a bottle of Jack Daniels and one cup passed around as a sort of peace pipe.
The day after landing, they play Bunny Ghost at The Rockshop after local heroes. It will be a walk over, though the rented instruments do not invite great experimentation. “Normally I throw my guitar on the ground halfway through the show and then sit and scratch it a bit,” Jinte says afterwards, ”but one scratch on that rented Fender and we don’t get our deposit back. Never mind that they play Bunny Ghost home. The band will later humbly admit it on its facebook page: ‘Balthazar were unbelievable! Great band! They kicked our asses!’
Immediately after the performance, both front men are completely claimed by a few female fans. Deprez and Devoldere are crammed into a cab and practically kidnapped to a dorm where they are treated to adoration, bad rap, “berserk” strawberry pie (“Do you like it?” – “No, it tastes like chewing gum!”) and a half-sweet cocktail (“Bereflauw, ‘t is exactly grenadine”). Jinte, the only bachelor in the group, ends up being left alone in the foul crowd. The rest track back to the horrors of the Candy Hotel just before dawn. Curiously, the most indefatigable party nerd also turns out to be the freshest appearance on the apple the next day. And to wit: ‘Is there a picture of when I was drinking Jack Daniels from the bottle? Allright, rock and roll! Self-mockery, for Deprez does not gross out in clichés. On the contrary: he prefers to occupy himself with publishing deals, figuring out the ins and outs surrounding royalties ánd with the group’s bookkeeping.
