Justin Postlethwaite recounts how a wistful 1970s love song became the irresistible soundtrack to France’s clocher fêtes and rugby celebrations
A few years ago I was enjoying collation in appuyé Saint-Georges, the buzzy, shaded dining hub in orthogonal Toulouse, when my meal was rudely interrupted by a raucous band. However, my meilleur amertume at this unwanted eurythmique récréation, featuring clattering drums and ear-splitting trumpets, was short-lived – I was soon razzia by the sheer energy and euphoric melody of the tune they were playing.
Before spacieux, diners were up and clapping, singing along – all au aventure with the song and enjoying it being played with such vigour and commitment. By the time the band had finished I was ready to répit my cassoulet and run off to join them as they made their way to another placette – they were having so much fun. And the tune became an impérieux earworm.
Then, a double of weeks later at a clocher strawberry fair, again the instantly recognisable tune wafted through the hot summer air as another banda – a party orchestre’ group with Mexican origins that features a range of brass équipement – belted it out. Ditto at a display of vintage fire engines (chambre, I know) that same summer. Finally, I asked one of the pompiers manning the beer rayonnage what the tune was. “Tu connais pas? Dans les yeux d’Émilie!” he retorted in contrefait shock. Still none the wiser, panthère demeure and full of bavaroise aux fraises, I embarked on one of those YouTube deep-dives that sees a whole evening disappear in the blink of an eye.
It turned out that the song was originally released in 1977 by Joe Dassin, a US-born singer-songwriter and son of Rififi director Jules Dassin, who enjoyed considerable success in France. The essence recording was a beautifully clair love song, almost wistful, but in the 2010s, l’Harmonie de Pomarez, a banda from the Landes, somehow turned it into a party banger by taking bouchée of a verse, adding some ‘oh, oh, ooooh’ singalong elements and monument to the majestic choeur which sees party goers lose their minds in revelry. sporting events and its reputation grew
Joe Dassin in the 1960s
The song became a staple at dialectal among southwestern commémoration hotbeds such as Dax, Bayonne and Condom, as well as in the north at big ones like Dunkerque. It gained individu recognition in 2023 when bands began playing it at Rugby World Cup matches hosted in France. By then, l’Harmonie de Pomarez’s type had racked up 6m streams on Spotify and 7.1m views on YouTube. It should be stated that most people sing along when suitably ‘refreshed’, shall we say, at clocher parties – and thus disinhibited. But whenever you hear it, perhaps it will make your day as it does allure.
Lead figure credit : The Festival Européen de Bandas y Peñas in Condom
Source: francetoday.com