In the 1970s, this young Montrealer left to live his dream in Paris and then in the Americas, driving young adolescents crazy for him – and some boys too, since he cultivated, like others, gender ambiguity: as made up as David Bowie, the high pitched timbre, the attitude of the legs of eph and the long hair impeccably combed like an armor against the blue of the heart.
The Blues at heart, it is precisely the title of his autobiography, imperfect and a little clumsy, but very sincere, released by Flammarion in 2005. Written more than thirty years later I’m going to get married, Marie, which represented Switzerland at Eurovision Song Contest in 1973, based on a text by Pierre Delanoë. Song of a fragile boy, who no doubt assumes badly, first of all a model. Fine figure who started in music by singing variety in French and English then disco during the second part of the 1970s until 1982, a register in which he had phenomenal success.
A remarkable service from 1973 in Geneva:
He was also author of The music, which launches it at the dawn of the seventies where Mike Brant and Michel Delpech reigned. And also – forgive the little – the Monday in the sun by Claude François. With Véronique Sanson, Jean-Michel Jarre and Alain Chamfort, he is part of a generation that contrasts with the yéyés.
A blog post:
At night, excess
A destiny. Hours of glory, and then the descent into hell, in a “proven penchant for the night is its excesses”, lines of coke and devilish cocktails, flirtation with AIDS and so many other calamities.
But “I have had the unique chance to sell millions of records, he writes, to fill concert halls with flamboyant shows, […] to meet the biggest stars, to conquer America. Before losing everything and being reborn from my ashes ”, like a phoenix haunting nostalgic TV sets and stamped musical cruises. Tender age and wood head.
A meeting in 2000:
Assimilated in France
So famous to the point that many French people have “assimilated” it as a national treasure in the vein of Hi buddies. But no, he was Swiss, absolutely not French and not at all the big head … Switzerland of Montreux, of which he embodied the spirit of celebration which also marked the disco era and its frenzied nights: for that you have to listen to the irresistible Lady night, less known but more original thanWhere are the women?. Patrick was Patriiiick long before anyone else.
Do not forget either that he translated the Only women bleed of Alice Cooper in her formidable I’m afraid of the night.
“Every morning you make people happy”
It was fashionable, among intellectuals, to make fun of this peerless composer but too quickly described as a “pussy singer”, whom Eddie Barclay was able to spot when needed, almost torn from his mother’s arms. who was his idol.
We must dance now, that’s probably what he would have liked us to do around his remains. “Every morning you make people happy before work,” her friend and agent Florence Albouker once told her. More precisely: “You are the great sun that burns constantly.”