La ballade de gens heureux

by Antje Maly-Samiralow // 

There are catchy tunes that get stuck in your head and brain for a day or two. You pick them up in the morning and chirp them to yourself. They usually stay with me for about that long. But for four weeks now, they've been ringing out day in, day out:
"La ballade de gens heureux" and I wouldn't trade this fresh and light song for anything else. I picked it up in a brasserie where you hear nothing but good, well-hung chansons, all from a time when life was still easy despite all the hardships, seemed easy, or at least felt easier. When it came out, I was still a child, just in the second grade. Everything felt easy then. It felt like the sun shone 365 days a year. It's quite possible that the song reminds me of that carefree time and that's why it won't go away.

I didn't understand the text at the time. But that wasn't necessary either. Good music works in the same way: the mood intended by the artist is formed in sound and words, and if he hits the right note and the rhythm is captivating, no words are really needed. Then you hum, whistle or warble, depending on your preference and talent. I still don't really understand the lyrics. My French is good enough for a pastis order and a decent thank-you note, but not much more. Somehow I thought I could recognize honourable or decent people in the "gens heureux", in any case good people. Well, actually, that's how it goes together. Happy people can only be decent people, I'll just say that.

And the way Gérard Lenorman sings about them and pays homage to the oh-so-different "gens heureux", so light and pensive, makes him, the artist, seem content and happy. Incidentally, there is an even lighter, but in any case livelier version of the ballad: a duet with dixi, jazzy ZAZ. It's hard to believe that the once almost shy Lenorman is on top form in the presence of the lively and sparkling ZAZ, pirouetting and swinging for all he's worth. The two of them have so much fun on stage and cheer each other on that it's a joy to listen to and watch. Nevertheless, I prefer the original version. Perhaps because the atmosphere from back then evokes an attitude to life that the cover version - at least in me - is unable to ignite. That's the problem with copying and re-singing. There are really good cover versions of many songs. But nothing beats the original, which you can only try your hand at.

For me, "La ballade de gens heureux" is the ultimate summer song right now. I'm curious to see when and by which song the catchy tune will be replaced. I'm guessing late summer, when the leaves wither, the spiders cast their webs and the late summer blues inevitably hit the country and the people.