Le Vélo d'hiver invites us into the memories of Paris’s once-famous Vélodrome d’Hiver, a cycling arena that speaks in the first person. Under its huge glass roof we see a carnival of life: cheering crowds, gritty boxing matches, children racing around, and legends like Édith Piaf and Yvette Horner lighting up the stage. Calogero’s lyrics feel like flipping through a vibrant scrapbook where Tout-Paris gathers for sport, music, and merriment, the poor squeezed into the upper seats while the rich lounge ringside.
But the scrapbook takes a darker turn. The same roof that echoed with applause becomes a cage in July 1942, when Nazi troops and collaborators flood in with uniforms and revolvers. Thousands of Jewish families are herded onto the oval track, forced to wait in squalor before deportation to the camps. By letting the velodrome itself remember both its golden age and its day of infamy, Calogero delivers a moving history lesson wrapped in melody, reminding listeners how quickly a place of joy can be twisted into a scene of tragedy—and why those echoes must never fade.