UK version
Dona confuse has arisen from the common free will of five different musicians to perform a personal and creative music, starting from the idea of an alternative electro rock music. Wiser for life experience and many shows achieved all over France and Spain, the band amazes and takes off to a musical flight of mind-blowing, spleening, entrancing and even cinematographic sounds… All original songs of the quintet cover various universes where dreams, wild frenzy, past or future realities can confusedly be met. Free is the way to understand, interpret and feel the multi sensorial experience that Dona confuse tries to share sailing across the shows or the new album, Broken silver cigarette in Tristan da Cunha… Dona confuse comes from Toulouse, South France, and tries out an alternative rock music through vesicular electronic vapours, hung on the air. Think about a man. A naked man. Not totally naked, he’s just dressed with a thong and some cowboy’s boots, those with spurs on you know. Make him get high with valium. A great shot. Some alcohol. A great dose too. A pack of cigarette in his boots. Think about him in the middle of nowhere, in some barren land. Whatever continent you want. Or whatever. Nothing as far as you can see. Only three dozens of pink flamingos. There he is and there you can have an idea of what Dona confuse sounds like.

Romain Bouyssou (voices/guitar)
Axel Calmels (keys/samples/others)
Mathieu Ferraro (drums/synth)
Vincent Lasserre (bass/keys/back voice)
Gillian Leplat (guitar/string/keys)
Mathias Gibert (videos/pictures)
Simon Lambert (sound designer)

FR version
Dona Confuse vient de Toulouse et expérimente sa rock music alternative aux travers de vapeurs électroniques vésiculaires, suspendues dans l’air. Prenez un homme. Nu. Enfin, pas totalement, mettez lui un string et des bottes de cowboys, vous savez, celles avec les éperons là. Donnez-lui du valium. Une bonne dose. De l’alcool. Une bonne dose. Un paquet de clopes dans ses bottes. Placez-le au beau milieu d’une vaste étendue désertique. Sur le continent que vous voulez. Peu importe. Rien à perte de vue. Si ce n’est trois dizaines de flamands roses. Voilà. Vous avez la musique de Dona Confuse.