Dear Jean-Louis Aubert,

Today we pay tribute to the man who dedicated his career to “sing to make us forget about the pain of living and the pain of loving” and to “knock on doors” to make us dance “on the rubble of our world.”

With Téléphone, you composed the soundtrack of an entire era, that of the aftermath of May 68, that of the Mitterrand generation galvanized by the victory of 81. From one may to the next, you have set the tone for an incredible decade.

The success is instantaneous, 1977 marks the love at first sight of an entire generation for this group of young people excited: the free concert you give in the subway, that of Subway is too much and “groupers stuck in the aquarium”, paralyzing the whole 11 line.

From a musical phenomenon, Téléphone quickly established itself as the largest French rock band and everyone nurtured the hope of its reformation. For far beyond the decade he has long marked, Téléphone is at the heart and body of many generations: its titles have become the timeless hymns of a youth for whom «life is only a day» and who dreams ofAnother world a “round earth”, a “blonde moon” where “the shadows of the world dance”.

Today, years after their elders, they too close their eyes “so as not to see a new day rise”, they too, “to the murmur of the city, to the morning of crazy nights”, nothing frightens them.

Your voice has never left the stage, it continues to give the rhythm of our lives and to take the pulse of our joys and our sorrows. This voice which, from success to success, «comes back to us/ and does not come back from always being there», sings  ' trains always leaving»the blue hour where everything sleeps, «time of the moon», the illusion “that makes us swim against the meaning of time”. With you, we bleed when there is «a lack of time in our lives», a «bored laughter», with you we like «what runs away as we like life».

“It’s time again,” you say forcefully singing your environmental commitment in Blue White Green, your 2th solo album, reminding us in What are we going to leave them, '  That if the earth opens tomorrow/ like a big mouth/ we will give it our words/ but it will be hungry».

Cloud hunter, collector of hours, you have collaborated with the greatest to deliver to us humanist texts full of poetry where passions, the blows of fate and bloodshed emerge.

Barbara offers you two beautiful songs, the lyrics of which illuminate our nights “When men who are deaf no longer hear the cry of men… You will see, the dawn is still coming,” but also “of the bright mornings and the dark nights, the world is a hope.”

After having sung Rimbaud, you «give wings to the words» of Michel Houellebecq, to use your own expression, singing a poetry that crosses «a lyrical universe like a traverse a body that we loved very much», which wonders «where have gone the gods» and where nature struggles to get out of «her insipid dream».

Dear Jean-Louis Aubert, you embody a beautiful idea of rock and music, the one that «walks next to us», our most faithful companion on the road. In your Roc'Eclair, you tell us that you sing “for all those who pass and for all those who remain”. Today, it is all of them, night watchmen, sailors in transit and deckchairs, large and small, who pay tribute to you.

Dear Jean-Louis Aubert, on behalf of the French Republic, we make you an Officer in the Order of Arts and Letters.