Something about Claire Laffut is reminiscent of childhood. A peculiar honesty, mixed with gravity and playfulness. A way to wear your blue heart on your sleeve. Blue, like bruises on the skin and melancholy in the soul. Blue like the perfect shade of the sea – the one she paints in loose brushstrokes on life-scale canvases, and would be glad to live in. This blue has been following her for ages. She didn’t think about it, but when the time came to write her first album, it appeared naturally. So she decided to also dye her hair blue, to match it from the inside out. There is something mysterious about Claire Laffut, in her feline look, her broken ballerina dreams, her Belgian roots. A wild kid, she grew up in the countryside, in Moustier-Sur-Sambre. With a gentle push on her back – thank you Maman – she discovered the piano, music lessons, drawing, drama classes. Went to Brussels, quit graphic design school – “I was a dunce”. When she was only 19, she fled to Paris: it was her way to seek danger and freedom. There, she felt like a child in the jungle, filled with wonder. In an instance of bohemia, music appeared into her life: improvising at an open mic in a studio, eyes closed, she experienced a sudden breakthrough. “The sky fell upon me”. This happy accident left her shaking with joy. From that time onward, Claire Laffut never stopped singing, writing, making words rhyme and melodies fly. She started with English, as French felt a little dated.