Packshot is a unique and intriguing word, as it's a direct borrowing from English, commonly used in advertising to refer to a still or moving image of a product's packaging.
In the context of La Femme's song, the title Packshot hints at a detached, almost cinematic observation of events, like a product being presented. It suggests a cold, almost clinical portrayal of the narrative's intense themes of violence and pursuit, making it a memorable and thought-provoking choice for the song's title.
"Packshot" plays like a noir short film compressed into four minutes: a nameless figure moves through train station halls ("halls de gares" [station halls]), turns sharply, and heads north carrying a weapon. Somewhere along the way they cross a woman and hurt her — La Femme leave the act itself in shadow, naming only its aftermath: vengeance, hatred, violence in the night air, and the strange oxymoron of seeing daylight inside the dark ("tu vois le jour dans le noir" [you see daylight in the dark]).
The second half turns the journey into an actual one — an Orient Express run to Moscow, staying alert, watching every detail — before the guilt catches up. By the final lines the character isn't running from the woman anymore so much as from what they've become, dreading the new power they now carry ("tu redoutes ton nouveau pouvoir" [you dread your new power]). It's less a story with an ending than a mood: cold, propulsive, and morally unresolved, matching the icy synth pulse La Femme built it on.