It's a memento mori, in the shape of a surprise sleeve.
 

The same pure pleasure of tasting 17 tracks that sparkle on the tongue, stick or explode at the back of the palate.
 

palate. The same childlike joy of finding all kinds of rhythms and colors. But
 

also a melancholy feeling, as you discover and savor them, that you're nearing the end of the pack.
 

end of the package. And every minute of music, as it lifts us up, reaches out to us. Because
 

what differentiates Philippe Katerine from his dog Zouzou (who gives his name to the record) is undoubtedly this: the
 

the artist's deeply musical, sharp and funny awareness of the passage of time.
 

Of our lives on borrowed time.
 

On the irresistible Joyeux anniversaire, a soulful track driven by an electric guitar
 

Katerine reminds us that we've never been closer to death,
 

and now you're even closer... Besides, he continues, with or without gluten, no one's going to come out of it alive.
 

(Bonifacio). Elsewhere: nothing's the same as it used to be, it's changing all the time, that's what's so frightening, it's so hard to keep up.
 

that's what's scary, that's what's exciting (Frérot). A formidable sense of impermanence, which
 

is not a reason to get depressed, but, on the contrary, to live on humor and fresh water.
 

As the old saying goes, when there's no solution, there's no problem.
 

blème (As my little sister used to say). And so, throughout this new album, we find the lively eye
 

and disarmed mischievousness of Katerine - who is also an actor, cartoonist and visual artist.
 

who since
 

his kaleidoscopic career, has always turned his own limits into a driving force, and his smile into fuel.
 

his smile as fuel. And a vehicle for friendship.
 

To compose and arrange this eleventh album, Philippe Katerine has surrounded himself with the accomplices of his
 

tour: multi-instrumentalist Adrien Soleiman, and Victor le Masne. They all share a love of combining machines and bodies, synths and strings, effects and nudity. Other musicians
 

cians featured here: Flavien Berger produces the gentle Woolfian track Une chambre à moi, while Philippe Katerine's
 

Philippe Katerine's own daughter, Edie Blanchard, sings on the aptly named Chanson d'Edie - a clever
 

a clever imitation track that condenses all the album's featurings into a single title,
 

Edie brings together the whole of today's pop scene in her own voice and, with a touch of mischief, manages to
 

Angèle, Clara Luciani and Zaho de Sagazan.
 

Irony and tenderness, together.
 

Philippe Katerine loves improbable connections between registers, languages and generations.
 

and generations. Here, he combines a canine ballad with French Touch (Zou-
 

zou), a Bach prelude and a letter to his penis (Que deviens-tu), or Zumba and his Vendée roots
 

roots (Total à l'Ouest). A curiosity, a sense of disorder, that doesn't prevent emotion
 

from surfacing. For Philippe Katerine, outrageousness is only ever the politeness of his modesty.
 

Without warning, between a bark from his dog and the voices of his children, the memory of a café - and of a youth - emerges.
 

the memory of a lost café - and youth - suddenly grips the heart. At Philou (el Café bar), friendship reigned - and it's a pain to have to conjugate it.
 

and it's a pain to have to conjugate that in the imperfect tense. Of course, one day, everything will end: the life of a bitch
 

our lives as dogs. But we'll be left with the stories, the music and the words we've
 

to each other. We'll still have the images we leave each other, the records and then the cinema.
 

a haunting track, where we hear the voices of friends, the memory of a film shoot, and where strings and
 

strings and other wind instruments take care of the rest.
 

It's life passing by, the horizon opening up - zou!