MURMURES, like the warm breath of someone familiar, whispering softly, gently in your ears. MURMURES, like the sound of an intimate word, like timidly sharing a secret. The saxophone, the guitar, the accordion and the singing design a poetic, idyllic atmosphere. In alliance or alone, they oat smoothly, resembling the movement of the human soul. On the way for looking themselves, they improvise, and finally they encounter utterly during the moments of sharing.