Omar Perry & Jah Mason in Paris

Over a perfectly played Promise Land riddim, a certain H Michael, introduced as Peter Tosh's nephew, gives it everything to kick off the night. Four tunes played in quick succession open the stage for Omar Perry, who bursts in on Sly & Robbie's World a music (reused by Damian Marley for Welcome to Jamrock). The son of the wizard Lee Scratch Perry takes over the stage for an hour, delivering his songs to perfection, such as the powerful Rasta meditation. The Blaze Riddim and the Jonkanoo, two perilous riddims live, are well played, as is his tune on the Intercom, which lifts the room. "In Paris, you are the closest to the Jamaicans" (!), says Omar Perry, who sounds a lot like his father when he pushes into the low register. Watching him deliver such an impeccable show, it is hard to believe he still has no album to his name. All the more reason to await his first effort with even greater impatience. .

We left Jah Mason last week on a terrific Hill Vibes, at the end of a nervy and tremendously effective show. Needless to say, we expected a lot of him for this return to the Paris stage after a week touring France. The welcome the crowd gives him is the same: just as well, because the show will be no different, unlike Omar Perry, who varied his songs. In the same vein as what we heard at the Ja'Sound. Jah Mason comes in on Life is so joyfull sung from the wings, and storms onto the stage on the chorus. After a Lion Look that he evidently enjoys playing live, he launches into a "ganja tunes" set with the difficult Mi chalwa, chained into High Grade, then Smoke at a hundred miles an hour before dropping into Farmer Man on the Sick riddim.

What follows builds in a crescendo. Ravenous, Jah Mason strings the tunes together without pausing for breath, which doesn't seem to bother the Germans of the Feueralarm Band, joined by Steppa on saxophone, all of them following his baton. The peak of the concert is reached with Keep your joy and Wheat and Tears. After Run come love me, and half an hour of show, Mason leaves the stage on the opening notes of My Princess Gone. He will come back to finish it, but what follows proves more disjointed, with Mason most often cutting his songs off at the end of the first chorus with a loud and authoritative "Quiet!" ("silence!") aimed at his musicians. The rhythm becomes choppier: between two long speeches, Jah Mason launches into frenzied channel-hopping: Burn dem for a purpose, Mama Earth on the Intercom, Dem Gone and Fire on the Answer Riddim all undergo a severe regime, each truncated before its time.

Only Hill Vibes, with which he now ends his shows, lasts nearly 20 minutes: Jah Mason cuts, cuts again, brings Jamadom onto the stage ("My brother from Gwadada", with whom he recorded a combination the day before), introduces his musicians, and successively chants the words of Struggle, Never give up, and Who a dem a ramp with, before the concert comes to a somewhat abrupt end. More at ease with his singing and with his audience, Jah Mason has undeniably stepped up a level this year. He had made a mark last week with a thunderous show. A shame that on this night he was more inclined to hold forth on the themes of his songs than to sing them to us in full. If Mason had accustomed us to concise, dynamic shows in the Jamaican style, he still has a little work to do to deliver a show in the European manner that is wholly convincing from start to finish.