‘Le rockeur national’, ‘the biggest rock star you never heard of ’, and ‘France’s Elvis’: none of these shorthands comes close to capturing the reach of Johnny Hallyday. During 50 years in the spotlight, this averagely talented singer of the rock’n’roll era became a national treasure, with few equals anywhere in the world. While the real Elvis faded into a niche obsession, and Britain’s nearest equivalent — Cliff Richard — became a cosy granny’s favourite, the man they called just ‘Johnny’ continued to fascinate and excite to a degree that only increased as it should have fallen away.
It wasn’t so much what Johnny did as who he was. Compared to the handful of other French music stars who transcended the rock era, he was gauche and unsophisticated. He had none of the originality or iconoclasm of Serge Gainsbourg, couldn’t compete with the wit of Jacques Dutronc or the adventurousness of Michel Polnareff, and never approached the effortless chic of Françoise
