Alright, buckle up. Lucky Vlaviano’s Joue Les Grands Succès de Demis Roussos is one of those albums that smacks you in the face with its unapologetic charm. Released back in '76, this French gem rides the funky soul wave while dipping its toes into pop territory. It's got that retro je ne sais quoi that makes you wanna dig out your dad's old vinyl player and crank it till the neighbors complain.
First off, let’s talk about “My Reason.” Holy crap, this track hits different. You know how some songs just stick to your brain like gum on a hot sidewalk? Yeah, that’s this one. The melody loops around your head, refusing to leave. It's smooth but packs enough punch to keep things interesting. And don’t even get me started on the vibe—it’s like walking through Paris at sunset, except someone handed you a glass of wine and told you life isn’t so bad after all. It’s not perfect, sure, but damn if it doesn’t make you feel something.
Then there’s “Forever And Ever.” This one feels like lying on a beach somewhere, staring at clouds, wondering why love songs always have to be so cheesy yet kinda beautiful at the same time. The groove here is infectious; it sneaks up on you when you least expect it. Like, you’re just sitting there minding your own business, and suddenly—you’re humming along, tapping your foot, and questioning every life choice that led you to listen to this album alone in your room. But hey, that’s the magic of it. Imperfectly perfect.
The rest of the tracks are solid too—“Midnight Is The Time I Need You” has this sultry undertone that screams late-night drives, and “Bahia Blue” brings in some exotic flair that almost makes you forget you’re listening to a cover album. Almost.
But here’s the kicker: what’s wild about this whole thing is that Lucky Vlaviano didn’t try to reinvent the wheel. He took Demis Roussos’ classics and gave them his own spin, adding layers of funk and soul that shouldn’t work but somehow do. It’s like he knew people would either love it or scratch their heads, and honestly, I respect that gutsy move.
So yeah, this album might not change your life or anything, but it’ll definitely give you a reason to press repeat (pun intended). And honestly? Isn’t that enough? In a world full of overproduced nonsense, sometimes all you need is an underdog record from 1976 to remind you music can still surprise you. Now go find yourself a copy before Disc'Az realizes they should’ve charged more for it.
