On the terrace with Claude Cobra | The “tiring” while traveling

This summer, our journalists spend time every week on a terrace with a personality for a friendly discussion. Guillaume Lefrançois met Mathieu Lafontaine, better known as Claude Cobra, singer of the group Bleu Jeans Bleu.

(Granby) On February 19, 2020, Celine Dion concluded her show at the Bell Centre with a medley. The last song? Cotton fleece. And she asks the quartet of the hour, Bleu Jeans Bleu, to accompany her on stage.

“You have three and a half minutes to sing your song, but also to enjoy it and to realize that it’s happening. It’s short.”

Mathieu Lafontaine, better known as Claude Cobra, tells his story and the hairs on his arms stand on end. “She starts the song and we’re not there yet. While she starts singing, I hear the reaction of the world and I say to myself: huh? I’ve got a Waterloo.”

He pauses, pointing to the bristling hairs on his forearms. “Now that’s happening to me!”

“To see the Bell Centre just being stuffed with hits from one of the greatest singers in the world… It went crazy, everyone was singing. I knew the song was big, much bigger than us. But at that moment, I said: OK, there’s something going on. But you have to move forward, do your song, and you have to realize that next to you, the one twisting her pelvis is Céline.”

Lafontaine lives in Rock Forest. So we agree to meet halfway between Montreal and this suburb of Sherbrooke.

Here we are on the terrace of Cantine chez Ben, a flagship institution of Haute-Yamaska. For a meeting with a guy who has eaten “too many French fries” and who never says no to a “soft vanilla-vanilla twist”, it’s hard to find better than a restaurant known for its poutine, which also doubles as a dairy bar.

The themes of Bleu Jeans Bleu’s songs may seem light, but Lafontaine embodies them. Here, he deplores the times when, in a snack bar, with a “teenager” in the kitchen, “the potatoes are not blanched properly”, which inevitably spoils what could have been a good poutine. We recognize a man who worked “17 years in catering”.

As he waits for his order, the ice cream parlor menu catches his eye, especially the upcoming weekend special, which is a suspiciously colored ice cream—purple and yellow, in fact. “Even if it said it tasted like the bottom of shorts, I’d have to try it,” admits the young forty-something.

At noon sharp, the line stretches to the vestibule. Our man is dressed in civilian clothes. No hat or denim jacket. A first customer unmasks him anyway. “Hey, Bleu Jeans Bleu! In Granby?” Further down the line, another lady greets him.

“Not everyone knows my face. At the grocery store, you see the guy thinking: are you him, are you not him? But when I have dinner with my girlfriend, no one comes to talk to us.”

Five years after the release of Cotton fleeceLafontaine and his acolytes François Lessard (Wayne Wrangler), Pierre-David Girard (Jean Levis) and Mathieu Collette (Lou Lee) are still living on cloud nine. And Lafontaine is well aware of this. This is also the essence of his message: live in the present moment, fully. The formula is worthy of the best Instagram influencers, but he applies it and explains it in a very concrete way.

“It’s a great exercise to live what you’re living, especially when you’re doing a show. Because in general, humans are busy even when they’re working. Our brains go elsewhere. A show is such a real show for an hour and a half. You get a thank you and a bravo between each song. In the theater, it’s only at the end.”

“It would be a shame to come to the end of a summer of festivals and say: I didn’t notice, I didn’t enjoy it. To wait until it’s over to say: I miss that time. It should be like that in all the little things in life.

“We all look forward to our vacations, but when you’re in them, you have to realize it. I’m the tiresome one when traveling. When you do something you’ve been waiting for a long time, I can say it often: where are we now? If I’m on a surfing trip with friends, I’ll often say: remind me where are we now. So we can pinch ourselves.”

It is easy to apply this ideal of life to shows and travel, but “it can be a wrinkled “I was coming here alone, thinking. If I had seen the road as a chore, I would have missed out on some precious me-time.”

Except that sometimes, the present moment passes quickly. Like at the Bell Centre with Céline.

“We were realizing what was happening, but one event at a time. One too-small park at a time. We arrived and the site was overflowing, because when it was time to confirm, Cotton fleece hadn’t come out. Everything happens with a delay, but there are times when you realize that it’s changed. I’m never going to realize it in real time, and that’s okay, it would be pointless to try to figure it out in advance.”

Another one of those moments is South Africa, when Double occupation calls him in September 2019 to come and do “two songs”. “When I got the call, I looked around, I said: where is the Kodak?”

“We stayed for three days, but there was a time dilation. We visited a vineyard, went on a safari, saw the sea. All along, me, the tiresome one who wants to realize it too much: we are here because of the music, guys. It’s sick that ideas on the corner of a table change a life. Ideas are intangible. It’s not: I bought real estate that I freaked out, which is just as valid. But there is something so abstract with ideas. You can’t go to the bank for a loan…”

He simulates a dialogue.

“Oh yeah, what are you giving us as a guarantee?

– Ideas.

– Go get a life and come back and see us!”

These days, among the things that excite him, there is his participation in I am coming to youa show hosted by Marc Labrèche at Noovo. “It’s become a little weekly event. There’s not a single time I’ve gone there reluctantly.” Bleu Jeans Bleu also continues to tour Quebec, with some 70 shows per year.

Despite these last few years of making people dream, Mathieu Lafontaine remains the guy from Victoriaville, who talks about hockey once the interview is over, who eats pogos, and who has just spent 90 minutes on the side of Route 112, despite the stifling heat, simply out of respect for a column called “On the terrace with”.

“And here we are, eating a good pout.”

Live what you are living, he said.