The expectation is great.
Seven years that the curtain has not risen on her.
A clarinet tune, played slowly, fills the velvety enclosure of the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées, in Paris (VIII).
It's subtle, almost subliminal, but you can clearly recognize the refrain from "Poupée de wax, doll de son", hit from 1965. Barely twenty seconds and then the melody is chased away with a crash: a hell of a guitar riff , energizing and ultramodern, returns the winning Eurovision hit to the rank of medieval relic: make way for “Music”.
"Let's silence the melancholy," she intones.
With our own rhythm and joy.
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