TU DEVIENS QUOI EN CE MOMENT ?

A slight melancholy intertwines here with an almost sunny carefreeness. “Le temps est bon, le ciel est bleu” sounds like a promise of summer, but behind it lie hangover mornings, conversations at the train station, and memories that always sting a little. The verses are sometimes self-deprecating, sometimes bitter, sometimes brutally honest, and all of this is superimposed on the image of Paris with its rain, squares, and chance encounters.

The music seems to stroll along, hands in pockets, listening to everyone's little dramas. There is no pathos here, only observations: about friendship, about love, about how time slips through your fingers and leaves scars that gradually become part of your style. And in this mixture of sadness and warmth, something familiar can be heard: the familiar feeling that even with a headache and a bunch of doubts, life continues to play its melody, sometimes very beautiful indeed.