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On the eve of the release of Mi vida from Flammarion, Kendji Girac offers, from Biscarrosse to Paris, a musical autobiography of falling and rising. On September 30, 2025, on Quotidien, he returns to the night of April 21, 2024: a shot to the chest, alcohol, fear, no suicidal intent. On October 1, 2025, the book is published, to explain, take responsibility, and put music back at the center.
An Anticipated Book, A Voice That Tells Its Story
The publication of Mi vida by Flammarion on October 1, 2025 places Kendji Girac, twenty-nine, in a territory rarely explored by French pop stars: that of a first-person narrative that moves between popular fervor, intimate wounds, and a desire to get back on his feet. 256 pages recount a confession held without tremolo, written with journalist Pauline Faure. Indeed, you hear the guitar before you even turn the pages. The text breathes the rumba that has inhabited the artist since childhood.
It must be said that the singer’s trajectory, revealed by The Voice in 2014, resembles a sunny fable. The road child was raised in a caravan then put down roots in Dordogne. He conquered stages with Iberian rhythms and warm vocal bursts. Success was immediate, massive, sometimes too much for his shoulders. Mi vida does not dwell only on the rise. It also reopens the dark hours, up to the night in Biscarrosse where everything could have stopped.
Biscarrosse, A Night That Divides A Life
The book revisits the gunshot wound of April 21, 2024 at the Biscarrosse reception area. It also addresses the harshness of the days that followed this tragic event. The singer details a downward spiral of heavy drinking and broken sleep. The tension of an already shaken couple is also mentioned, along with the recent purchase of an old firearm. He says he did not grasp the dangerous presence of that weapon in his hands. The shot, to the chest, left only a groove in the flesh and a chilling sentence. According to the artist, the bullet passed skimming the heart at an infinitesimal distance. He wavered long enough to consider the possibility of not getting up.
Over the pages, the man who sings “the riches of the heart” admits to a long-standing drift. The alcoholism reportedly began very young, more as bravado than pleasure, before turning into habit. The book does not seek to dodge. It names. It explains. It repeats that he wanted neither to die nor to frighten anyone. He speaks of a confused act, carried out in an altered state, without suicidal intent. Kendji Girac maintains this line, and reaffirmed it on television during his appearance on Quotidien on September 30, 2025, on the eve of the book’s release.
Justice, The Facts, The Timeline
The judicial procedure, opened the day after the drama, reached its conclusion on June 24, 2024. The Mont-de-Marsan public prosecutor’s office closed the case without further action after ruling out the hypothesis of a shot fired by a third party. It took note of an act committed under the influence of alcohol and drugs. Investigators recorded a very high blood alcohol level. In addition, they found traces of cocaine and the presence of a firearm. That weapon had been acquired a few days earlier. The singer settled the administrative consequences of these infractions and committed to medical follow-up. These elements, essential to understanding the book, form a factual backdrop that Mi vida does not avoid.
One crucial point remains, explained clearly: Kendji Girac’s public account diverges from the initial theory mentioned in the days after by the prosecutor, that of a simulated suicide intended to scare his partner. The man admits to a panic, but rejects the idea of blackmail. He describes a moment of bewilderment and an unfinished handling of the weapon. He also speaks of an act whose madness and futility he says he measures today. Personal literature here does not aim to contradict justice. It allows one to engage with what was experienced, in confusion and pain, then stitched back together over the long convalescence.
From The Caravan To The Stages, Rumba As Mother Tongue
Mi vida opens to the open air. Childhood moves between Dordogne and the roads. Moreover, it evolves in the musicality of a world where the guitar is passed on at evening gatherings. There are names, influences, a cluster of melodies that will nurture the signature: Catalan rumba, echoes of the Gipsy Kings, a way of striking the strings that raises celebration and emotion in the same breath. As early as 2014, victory on The Voice propels the teenager to the forefront. Follow hits that become shared choruses: Color Gitano, Andalouse, Habibi, then the album Amigo. Venues fill, tours follow, fervor overflows and shows up even in family conversations.
What the book recalls is the flip side of that frenzy. Days tied up by promotion. Nights too long. The impossibility of protecting oneself from a fame that, in moments of weakness, finds you everywhere. Again, the telling voice accuses no one. It thanks many. It admits its illusions. It recognizes excesses. It finds itself fallible and now wants to hold its line: live, sing, love, without burning out.
A Rare Public Statement, A Moral Contract With The Public
The appearance on the Quotidien set matters. Beyond the media exercise, Kendji Girac puts sober words on what he’s going through. He speaks of regained sobriety, daily vigilance, the support of loved ones and his team. He thanks those who waited for him. He asks that people read the book, that they especially hear what he’s trying to put back in order. The act of writing, he notes, served as a springboard for clarity. Indeed, it allows answering a simple expectation: to understand, without reducing a man to his worst night.
The moral contract is read in the most sensitive pages. They speak of shame, fear, the weight of looks, concern for his family. They also express the necessity not to replay the drama. Moreover, it is important not to romanticize alcohol. One must avoid turning addiction into artistic inspiration. Sobriety, claimed for more than a year, is chosen as a hygiene of life. It becomes a condition for the music to come.
What Mi vida Reveals Without Giving Everything Away
The book is not a dossier. It’s a narrative. We discover the child and the pruning-adolescent. Then, the young man gets noticed by a video. Then, he launches onto a TV stage and wins a country. You read precise, often tender scenes that illuminate the fabric of a popular artist. One gauges along the way the debt to his people and the importance of his mother. Moreover, brotherhood serves as a safeguard. Furthermore, the road plays a structuring role and is very present in the songs. You perceive the studio work and the hesitations about integrating Latin sounds into French pop. Also, there is a desire to remain understandable for everyone, from children to grandparents. This is particularly evident during a summer concert.
The section devoted to the night in Biscarrosse is short and direct. It does not sugarcoat. It does not pity. It draws attention to the lessons learned. Do not replay the violence. Do not give in to escalation. Do not take refuge in the night. Above all, do not confuse sincerity with exhibition. The singer chooses his words and refuses to sacrifice intimacy. He delivers his share, no more, no less. The rest, he warns, belongs to his family.
The Artist, His Music, And The Ordeal As A Turning Point
One might think the accident pushed music to the background. It’s the opposite. Since his convalescence, Kendji Girac writes again, trains, regains his range, rethinks his arrangements. His rumba, mixed with pop, regains breath. It sharpens, abandons certain easy solutions, gains a darker timbre, sometimes less danceable, more direct. In studios, those around him praise this returned calm. On stage, he promises tighter concerts and orchestrations that let the grain of a voice come through. This voice was too quickly labeled smooth. We watch for that discreet inflection, which marks a transformation deeper than a mere comeback.
The book itself is not a press release. It confronts shadow areas and questions the intoxication of celebrity. It recalls the role of chance in a career and the role of stubbornness. It also looks to the future. New songs will appear, a possible prelude to a new album. They will bear the stamp of the ordeal, without making it a banner.
Why This Book Matters Today
Because it puts music back at the center, first. Because it gives keys to those who grew up with these choruses, who dance to Andalouse and hum Color Gitano, and who were worried in spring 2024. Because it reminds, without insistence, that fame does not immunize against cracks. It takes on part of the responsibility and acknowledges the hard courage of rebuilding. These reconstructions are not spectacular.
It also matters for what it expresses about a popular France. This France chose this boy as a symbol of simple joy. The road that saw him born, the Gitano traditions that shaped his musicality, prepared him to hold on. Mi vida is not a manifesto. It’s a book of gratitude doubled with a narrative of vigilance. It offers an inner rhythm to an audience that has often made itself one with him.
In Bookstores, A Promise Of Conversation
From this October 1, 2025, Mi vida circulates on the shelves. The volume feels good in the hand and the cover displays a familiar face. The tone of the text, clear, keeps the pace of a confession without pathos. You close the pages wanting to hear the songs differently. Ballads gain new depth. The hits recover the lightness expected of them, but with a hinterland of gravity. This is the mark of useful narratives: they complicate without lecturing, they soothe without masking.
To those who hoped for a trove of secrets, the book answers with reserve. To those who doubted, it offers facts and apologies. To everyone, it reaches out a hand. The rest will be played out in the studio and on stage. The occasion writer has done his part. The singer can resume his.