When Johnny Hallyday dies, it's like a square circle, it doesn't exist. And yet, even if his wife Laetitia herself didn't believe what she wrote that night, these words heralded the news: \u00abMy man is no more.\u00bb On the morning of December 6, humanity seemed to discover for the first time the irrevocable reality of death, on the occasion of that of the greatest singer France had ever known.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
Johnny Hallyday evokes at least a few memories in each of us, because he was part of our lives, like a family member we don't often meet, but always know exists. His death first took me back to my elementary school days, when a friend and I made our own version of the video for the song Marie<\/em>. I discovered Johnny, who was never to leave me again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I also remembered car journeys with my parents in the early 2000s, when the albums What I know<\/em> and To life and death<\/em> the rhythm of our vacations. In 2006, I attended my first Johnny concert, at the Tourbillon stadium, during his Flashback Tour<\/em>. I saw him again in 2009, in Geneva, for what was to be his last tour. But \u00ablast\u00bb is not part of Johnny's vocabulary. To stop doing concerts would have meant stopping altogether.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the summer of 2016, I applauded Le Taulier at the \u00abSion sous les \u00e9toiles\u00bb festival. I've never been as thrilled as I was at this phenomenal concert, which was the penultimate date of his tour. Staying alive.<\/em> Johnny Hallyday was obsessed with life and survival. He was its embodiment. Passionate and always determined, Johnny truly lived, in the sense that he forged himself at every moment, always evolving and renewing himself, from his music to his physique.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Excesses of all kinds were inevitable. But what do a few setbacks have to do with such a noble career spanning fifty-seven years? If today, in the press and among the general public, nobody thinks Johnny is an idiot anymore, it's because it's simply impossible to go from Jean-Philippe Smet to Johnny Hallyday and stay at the top for so long while being an idiot. All those who didn't see it that way now seem to realize it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Once again, whether you like his songs or not, Johnny Hallyday's highlights are part of the common heritage of our French-speaking identity. Just take a look at the images from his song The idol of youth<\/em> in 1963, listen to the track\u00a0I forgot to live<\/em> of 1977, to relive resumption of Don't leave me<\/em> at Zenith in 1984<\/a>, look at the the singer's crossing of the Parc des Princes crowd in 1993<\/a> or to revise its interpretation of No, I have no regrets<\/em> in 2000 at the foot of the Eiffel Tower<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n These moments of anthology make us aware of an important dimension, little mentioned in this week's articles: Johnny Hallyday married two worlds. a priori<\/em> rock'n'roll and French chanson. As we know, Johnny's heart beat as much for Elvis Presley and Chuck Berry as for Georges Brassens, whose entire repertoire he knew like the back of his hand, Jacques Brel, his role model on stage, and Charles Aznavour, whom he considered his \u00abspiritual father\u00bb.<\/p>\n\n\n\nRead also | Johnny Hallyday as you've never seen him before: \u00abJ'suis une pute\u00bb (I'm a whore)\u00bb<\/a><\/h6>\n\n\n\n
Read also | The ideal Johnny Hallyday concert that never existed<\/a><\/h6>\n\n\n\n