Francis Lalanne, enraged singer

By Laurent Telo

Posted today at 03:14, updated at 03:14

The train goes to Belgium, the homeland of Jean-Claude Van Damme, kickboxer, cult actor and creator of aphorisms which are no less (“We must not listen to the sounds of the world, but the silence of the soul”). We thought of Van Damme when we received this SMS from Francis Lalanne: “I want to welcome you to my land, in Brussels. I will be in a vibration closer to my well-being. But I beg you, don’t do a PCR test, don’t get a swab thrown through your nose. It can compromise your blood brain membrane. “

“You know… We all have a deadly virus. Life. »Francis Lalanne

Suffice to say that we were in a hurry. We especially measured our chance to meet the singer-songwriter, because, according to one of his relatives, the very sympathetic actor and director Jean-Luc Moreau, “When Francis gives you an appointment April 15, it could be the next year. Do you see him in Brussels? Once, I had met him there. He wrote on a bench, with a quill pen and an inkwell ”.

Lalanne is difficult to follow, even on the Grand-Place. He runs everywhere, frantic, without a mask, in a half-dress ensemble.Lord of the Rings, half-hard rock band. He stands in front of Victor Hugo’s house, “The paragon of absolute freedom. It was here, in exile, that he wrote his pamphlets against Napoleon III, Napoleon the Little. “

He crosses the square at a rapid pace, the time to sign an autograph to a young Belgian couple fascinated by so much eccentricity, stops in front of Karl Marx’s cottage: “He founded the first communist league there …” Failed to write down all of his audio commentary. We were out of breath. Then he took us to a tavern that smelled quite a bit of beer. There were candles everywhere, drunk people crying a lot and hugging Lalanne.

A different normality

At 62 years old, Francis Lalanne is such as in himself, in a different normality. Except that, three hours ago, he learned of the death of the friend who welcomed him to Brussels twenty years ago and who ran the said tavern. Mourning, therefore. He stops short and scans the horizon, as if looking at the future. “You know… We all have a deadly virus. ” Which ? ” Life. “ Long pause, then he does: “No… I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I’m in a position to answer your questions. “

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