Karayib Focus: Gilles Floro
The Karayib Focus section is an opportunity for me to pay tribute to a Caribbean artist or a Caribbean song that has had an impact on my life. #streamcaribbean
Gilles Floro is now a zouk legend. His tragic death on June 22, 1999 while he was still on the rise deprived the Guadeloupean music industry of a talent that could have helped it to be recognized as the cradle of an international pop music in the 21st century. Today, more than ever, it is important to keep the memories and especially the legacies of our artists alive. That's why I am republishing this column as a tribute to Gilles Floro, the first artist whose music helped me discover the Caribbean part of my identity.
I always say that I was born to be a fangirl. Just a few months ago, if you had asked me which was the first artist I was a fan of, I would have answered Michael Jackson or a boyband from 1997-1998. I’m telling you, do NOT get me started on Ultimate Kaos because my crush for Haydon (the imgae of him I remember, anyway) is still going on. As for Michael Jackson, I knew by heart the choreographies of "Remember The Times", "Bad" and "Thriller", yes, I was that fan. So if you’d ask who my favorite artist was, I’d given you the easy relatable answer close enough to the truth so as not to feel like I was lying and far enough away enough to avoid further questions if I gave the real answer. Gilles Floro is the first artist to have made me fangirl. Obviously, I'm not talking about the fangirlsm that Haydon or (Korean singer) Taeyang or (Korean actor) Joong Ki-oppa triggered in me. The fangirlsm I'm talking about is certainly the simplest and most direct form there is, the one based on the connection with an artist solely in relation to his art.
Allow me to contextualize. When I was a child in this distant decade of the 90s, my mom and I went back to Guadeloupe to settle down. From then on, Guadeloupe was no longer just the place where I spent my summer/Christmas vacation. Creole was no longer just the language spoken by my grandmother, my cousins, aunts and uncles. It was my daily life. At school, my classmates spoke Creole. My fifth grade teacher often spoke Creole. I had no choice. Understanding Creole was a matter of survival. And I ended up understanding it. However, I never dared to speak because my rare attempts in the presence of my peers and even adults always ended up with people laughing at me. This feeling of shame mixed with helplessness makes the memory even more bittersweet even now because they mocked my "my French accent" and now I’ve been living in France for more than 15 years and I’m still reminded on a regular basis that I speak French with a “West Indian accent”... I still don't speak Creole when there are people around me, and that's partly because of that. Let's move on.
I had already mentioned it in a previous post, but Gilles Floro's song "Viré" was for me THE song that made me hear the beauty of the Creole language. It made me want to pronounce words just for the pleasure of pronouncing them and not to try to make someone accept me. When I heard the song the first time, it was what I’d call musical love at first sight. As soon as it was on the radio, I felt like I was in another world for a few minutes. Hearing it in the stores while walking up and down the Frébault street made me forget my thirst for a sinobol or my irritation at having to elbow passerbys as I followed my mother in the crowd during our Saturday afternoon shopping sessions. I liked this song so much that I even transcribed phonetically what I understood to memorize the lyrics...
I was shocked when I found out about Gilles Floro's death. I went through a phase of denial because I refused to believe that he had died from an electrocution while setting up his satellite dish. I was in "they don't tell us everything" mode. Something so horrible must have happened and that’s why they prefer to hide the truth from us". And then I felt a void. I know it sounds self-centered, selfish, egotistical, ego-anything you want, and obviously the pain I felt is nothing compared to the pain that his loved ones, the people who really knew him, felt. But in my mind as a child, I was losing my first friend from Guadeloupe, the one who helped me fight my fear of Creole, the one who didn't judge my pronunciation, the one who didn't think my pronunciation was faulty. In hindsight, I realize the sensuality of some of his songs, but it totally flew over my head at the time. What mattered above all was his voice and his music, which transcended Creole, French, and musical genres. I wish I could recommend you one song, but I can’t choose because they're all beautiful and perfect.
Gilles Floro passed away on June 22, 1999.
I will never have the opportunity to see him in concert.
I will never have the opportunity to buy an album of new songs.
I will never have the opportunity to tell him how much his music meant to me.
I will always thank him...
ndlr : this is article was first published on June 22nd 2016 on myinsaeng.com.