Sylvain Duthu opens his album with an intimate selfie of the soul. In Prologue he lists his quirks like snapshots—smiling for photos, skimming Le Monde Diplomatique, loving dogs, fearing boredom—while admitting to hidden storms and secret hopes. The song feels like reading someone’s private journal out loud: he is successful and grateful, yet lazy; adored online, yet lonely in real life; gentle on the surface, yet boiling inside. Every confession is balanced by its opposite, painting a picture of a man who can never fit into one tidy box.
Behind the confessions lies a gentle challenge to all of us. Duthu sees a world “without nuance,” where everyone goes through the motions but “no one knows how to dance.” His honest self-portrait invites listeners to drop the masks, forgive their contradictions, and truly move instead of merely circling each other. The result is a song that feels both personal and universal: a friendly nudge to embrace our messy humanity and finally learn our own dance.