Learn French With Therapie TAXI with these 10 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

Imagine it is the summer of 1990: boomboxes hiss, bikes skid through the dust, and two best friends orbit each other in the schoolyard like planets that never quite collide. “Eté 90” is a bittersweet postcard from that era, written years later by adults who are still hypnotised by the memory. The singers look back on a childhood crush that almost became real love, then stalled at the last second. They remember dodging meaningful glances, drawing invisible lines on the ground, and pretending they “couldn’t” fall for each other. Now, whenever they get too close, one of them presses pause out of fear of ruining the delicate friendship they still share.

Behind the sun-soaked nostalgia beats a quiet regret: I chased away the roses; I am the one who kept the love from blooming. The song captures the tug-of-war between longing and caution, warmth and loneliness. It is a dance of “what ifs,” set to a catchy pop melody that feels as bright as July and as wistful as the end of August. Listening to it is like leafing through an old photo album where every picture smiles, but every caption sighs.

Therapie TAXI build the whole song out of one instruction, repeated until it turns into a club chant: "Fait des bisous tendres" [Give tender kisses]. Each repeat moves the kisses somewhere new, "sur ses lèvres" [on their lips], "dans son cou" [on their neck], then "dans le club" [in the club] and "sur le sol" [on the floor], under "lumière rouge" [red light] and "lumière blanche" [white light]. The tenderness ends up on a sweaty dance floor.

The middle section drops the kisses for the heat of the room: "Qu'est-ce qu'il fait chaud, je veux de l'eau" [It's so hot, I want water]. Then the words fall apart into "Bi, bi, bi bisous bisous", the hook stuttered down to its first syllable, the way a crowd shouts it back.

"La Proue" is a summer romance told from the far end of it. The singer starts by digging through memory ("Dans ma mémoire je fouille" [In my memory I search]) while "Le temps qui recule" [Time that recedes], and what comes back is a run of sharp snapshots: a scooter racing along the cape, a girl named Nao dancing on a boat, "Son nombril au sel" [Her navel with salt], the sea slapping the deck.

Every chorus repeats "Le soleil brille" [The sun shines] and then "Mon amour file" [My love slips away], each time with a different picture: drops running off skin, wind on the bow, "comme un train sous la Manche" [like a train under the Channel]. By the last verses it is her memory that is leaving ("Ta mémoire s'enfuit" [Your memory escapes]) and her heart that "vacille dans le rétro" [flickers in the rearview], and the song closes on her as "La plus belle des filles dans son dernier halo" [The prettiest of girls in her last halo], one final image before the summer is gone.

Therapie TAXI turn a summer romance into a fever dream here. The opening lines pile up wild images: "Le miroir éclate" (The mirror shatters) "dans la jungle écarlate" (in the scarlet jungle), and the singer swims through "le néant" (the void) that swallows people, time and lovers. Then it gets hot, literally. "La fumée qui sort de ta peau / Embrase les arbres et l'eau" (The smoke coming off your skin / sets fire to the trees and the water) is a lot, and that is the point: this crush feels like a natural disaster.

The chorus pulls everything toward one dream, "Au Brésil, une idylle" (In Brazil, a romance), and a day "avec toi sur une île plus paisible" (with you on a more peaceful island). Une idylle is a handy word: in French it means a love affair, usually a short, sweet one. The second verse swaps fire for cold rain that washes everything away, and the singer stops overthinking: "Plus besoin de le dire, juste besoin de courir" (No need to say it anymore, just need to run). The outro slips into Portuguese, "Com você no verão" (With you in the summer), so the song ends up in Brazil for real.

”Eté 90” handlar om en vänskap som en gång var full av kungakronor och tonårsförälskelse, men som nu har fastnat i ett försiktigt rollspel. Berättaren minns 90-talet: ”Souviens-toi des années 90” [Minns 90-talet], när den andra personen var ”mon roi” [min kung] på skolgården. Nu har personen vuxit upp, kommer nära och ibland vilar i berättarens armar, men berättaren vågar ändå inte släppa fram kärleken. ”On va s’en tenir simplement à nos rôles” [Vi håller oss helt enkelt till våra roller] låter nästan som ett avtal mellan två människor som vet att det finns mer där, men som bestämmer sig för att inte röra vid det.

Det fina, och lite frustrerande, är hur tydligt berättaren erkänner sin egen skuld: ”c’est moi qui ai chassé les roses” [det var jag som jagade bort rosorna]. Rosorna blir en bild för romantik och möjligheter, medan ”j’ai bien trop peur pour casser les choses” [jag är alldeles för rädd för att förstöra saker] säger exakt varför inget händer. Uttrycket ”en moins d’deux” betyder ungefär ”på nolltid”, så relationen har rusat utför utan att de riktigt velat se det. Och när berättaren sjunger ”Plus tu t’approches et plus j’appuie sur pause” [ju närmare du kommer, desto mer trycker jag på paus], blir hela låsningen nästan komiskt konkret. Trots löftet ”Je serai là, toujours ton épaule” [jag ska finnas där, alltid vara din axel att luta dig mot] slutar bilden i mörker: de sitter ensamma om kvällarna och håller fast vid sina roller i stället för att dansa den där långsamma dansen tillsammans.

¡Prepárate para un viaje nostálgico con "Eté 90" de Therapie TAXI! Esta canción nos lleva a un verano de los 90, recordando una relación que, aunque tuvo sus momentos de gloria ("Cuando en el patio, todos los días, yo era tu rey" o "Cuando en el patio, todos los días, tú eras mi rey"), ahora se siente estancada y llena de arrepentimiento.

La letra nos habla de una pareja que evitó confrontar la verdad ("Hicimos como si no supiéramos"), complicando las cosas y dibujando límites ("Dibujamos la zona, evitamos las rosas"). Ahora, uno de ellos ya no quiere "Bailar este lento contigo", atrapado en el miedo a romper lo establecido ("Tengo demasiado miedo para romper las cosas"). Es una sensación de estar bajo hipnosis, donde a pesar de la cercanía, se presiona el botón de pausa ("Cuanto más te acercas, más presiono pausa"), y la soledad se instala cada noche ("Y solo todas las noches, me quedo en la oscuridad"). ¡Es una canción agridulce sobre el pasado y las decisiones que nos mantienen atados a nuestros roles!

¡Prepárate para un viaje nostálgico con "Eté 90" de Therapie TAXI! Esta canción nos lleva a un verano de los 90, recordando una relación que, aunque tuvo sus momentos de gloria ("Cuando en el patio, todos los días, yo era tu rey" o "Cuando en el patio, todos los días, tú eras mi rey"), ahora se siente estancada y llena de arrepentimiento.

La letra nos habla de una pareja que evitó confrontar la verdad ("Hicimos como si no supiéramos"), complicando las cosas y dibujando límites ("Dibujamos la zona, evitamos las rosas"). Ahora, uno de ellos ya no quiere "Bailar este lento contigo", atrapado en el miedo a romper lo establecido ("Tengo demasiado miedo para romper las cosas"). Es una sensación de estar bajo hipnosis, donde a pesar de la cercanía, se presiona el botón de pausa ("Cuanto más te acercas, más presiono pausa"), y la soledad se instala cada noche ("Y solo todas las noches, me quedo en la oscuridad"). ¡Es una canción agridulce sobre el pasado y las decisiones que nos mantienen atados a nuestros roles!

Turn the strobe lights on, crank up the volume, and welcome to the frenzied universe of Hit Sale. Therapie TAXI and Roméo Elvis plunge us into a packed nightclub where desire, booze, and pounding "dirty hits" blur the line between fantasy and reality. The lyrics toggle between two perspectives: a swaggering admirer spouting cliché pick-up lines and a femme fatale who knows exactly how much power her moves hold. Glitches in the mind, half-finished sentences, and cigarette ashes paint a picture of people who feel broken yet keep dancing, hoping the bass will drown out their doubts.

Beneath the neon glow, the song winks at the darker side of attraction. Bodies are celebrated like trophies, cravings are compared to a late-night snack, and everyone seems to be “cent fois trop bonne” or “mille fois trop sexe.” That exaggeration exposes how nightlife can amplify both confidence and insecurity. Hit Sale is ultimately a cheeky anthem about losing control on the dance floor, surrendering to impulsive lust, and recognizing the absurdity of it all while a hypnotic beat commands, “Tu continues à danser sur des hits sales.”

Meet the song that gleefully shoots itself in the foot – on purpose! “Anti Hit Sale” is Therapie TAXI’s chaotic protest against cookie-cutter pop and against their own spiraling emotions. From the first line, the narrator dreams of wrecked cars, shattered love, and every possible form of self-sabotage. The band even mocks the very idea of a catchy hook: “Y'aura pas d'refrain” (“There won’t be a chorus”). By refusing the usual verse-chorus comfort, the track becomes a sonic act of rebellion, daring you to dance while everything burns around you.

Beneath the vibrant electro-rock beat lies a raw confession: “J'sais pas recevoir l'amour” (“I don’t know how to receive love”). The violent imagery – emptying a gun into a foot, smashing skulls on wet concrete – isn’t just shock value; it’s a metaphor for deep self-loathing and the fear of intimacy. Every time the music starts to feel fun, the lyrics yank you back into darkness, exposing the urge to destroy anything that could bring vulnerability or hope. The result is a strangely cathartic anthem: chaotic, candid, and impossible to forget, precisely because it refuses to be the perfect radio hit it could have been.

Egotrip flips the usual rap braggadocio on its head. Instead of boasting about money and fame, the narrator delivers a hilarious self-roast: drifting through life in slow motion, pounding beers, lighting joints and watching friends speed past with “skills and sparkles.” Every chorus shouts the same verdict—Loser, Branleur—yet the insults are wrapped in playful energy, turning personal failure into a dangerously catchy chant.

Under the jokes lurks a very relatable anxiety: the fear of being left behind in a world obsessed with success. Therapie TAXI bottles that quarter-life crisis where comparison kills confidence, impostor syndrome takes over and party habits become a coping strategy. The upbeat, danceable production clashes with the self-deprecating lyrics, making “Egotrip” both a feel-good anthem and a sly reminder that it is human to stumble, laugh at yourself and keep the party going even when the spotlight feels far away.