This evening, Raphaël is out. On his thirty-one the same, he prides himself in an Instagram post on March 5, comb unsheathed in front of the mirror, blue glasses granted to his jacket. If in France, the 6 p.m. curfew still nails the dandies at home, the singer’s ninth album is finally getting out of the drawers – four months after the scheduled date.
One expectation among many others, that Raphaël lived like everyone else: resigned but connected. He who usually castigates the emptiness of social networks ended up seizing it in turn during confinement, for tinkered moments of music. History of filling in the solitudes. “I am lucky to live with my family, but others are isolated, students, elderly people who are afraid to leave their homes. If I can bond by doing what I can pretty much do, songs, it’s worth it. ” He feels good, alone in his kitchen. Behind the same tinted glasses and a nonchalant half-smile, reigning on a countertop with barista machine. He urges us not to hurry: “Make yourself some tea, we have time!”
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