May 19, 2003
Music
Before I came to live in France, one of the things about the mythology of this country that appealed to me to no end was that it had been a refuge for black jazz musicians for many decades.
I imagined the whole country moving to the plaintive wail of divine clarinet.
So, double was my dismay when I discovered not only that the best live music to be heard in Paris was echoing through the endless labyrinth of the metro, that live clubs were few and far between (coming from a place where any two-penny band can get a gig in a bar mid-week), and jazz lamentably near absent except on the radio and in concert, but, more than all this, the sincerely perplexing elevation to near god status of people like Johnny Halliday and Serge Gainsbourg, to name but two.
The former is a pseudo biker (greased-back dyed blond hair, tight leather, tattoos, young wives) who sings ooo-ooo-wooo-aaah-baby-baby in a gravelly off-tune voice that makes thousands of middle-aged women weep, and the second a sleazy little man who bedded everyone from Bardot to Deneuve - all of whom over the years recorded one of his songs in identical breathless from sex style - smoked 8 packs of Gitanes a day and is considered a genius for lyrics like Sea, sex and sun and 69: erotic year, and for burning a 500-Franc note on live TV as a sign of protest against taxation.
In all fairness, there are some French musicians whom I adore and would never have known had I not lived here - Claude Nougarro, among others, comes to mind - but I confess that too many of the most revered leave me baffled.
I can't say how many times I've found myself at an all French but me evening, and a song from everyone's past but mine suddenly comes onto the box. A collective moan of nostalgia, giggles and snippets of recall, and the screech of chairs as everyone rises in a trance to dance and sing along - minds no doubt flooded with bittersweet memories of first kisses, half-lit dance floors and old friends near forgotten.
Having realized over time that there is music I still love only because it holds so many memories, I wouldn't dare point out the obvious: beh, this song is crap.
But instead sit there alone, feeling conspicuous (thinking, beh, this is song is crap), and too suddenly reminded that I'm a foreigner here.
Posted by Gail at May 19, 2003 06:15 PMI had no musical preconceptions when I first moved to Austria in the 80s, but was surprised to see how popular 60s-70s rock was with the group I hung out with. Lou Reed got a lot of play, as did Leonard Cohen. There were no local singers to compare to Johnny Halliday, though.
Pop radio here in Austria is now an abysmal mix of crappy American top-40s tunes, crappy local pop, and crappy outdated top-40s tunes. Maybe this is universal. At least they've stopped playing "Convoy".
Posted by: Mig at May 20, 2003 12:44 PMJohnny Halliday annoys me, as he comes off as very full of himself. when it comes to male vocalists, I really dig Jean-Jacques Goldman's voice. I think my fave french artists though have to be Zazie (who reminds me a lot of Tori Amos) and Dionysos (because they just rock heh).
Posted by: kim at May 21, 2003 04:43 AMAustria and Poland may be alike in certain ways. Leonard Cohen is on the radio more often here, and probably sells more records and tickets here, than he does in Canada. There is a Polish Leonard Cohen cover band recording translations of all his songs.
Also mysteriously big here: Tanita Tikaram. Chris Rea. And Freddy effing Mercury never died as far as Poland is concerned.
Polish bands can be good, but there is much, much, much dreck. A type of music called "disco polo" is the worst (and funniest). Most of it sounds like an accordion band that sold its accordion and bought a cheap Casio synthesizer.
Posted by: Eeksy-Peeksy at May 21, 2003 12:27 PMVery big on Queen here too; inescapable part of TV commercials and victorious football fans' repertoires. I won't even mention the Village People because it hurts.
Posted by: Gail Armstrong at May 21, 2003 01:07 PMUnfortunately Johnny Halliday is really a Belgian.
Posted by: Joeri at May 23, 2003 09:41 AMThe French have a policy enshrined in law to play not less than 40% music of French origin.
Which arguably, was never anything more than a good idea...
Posted by: Jann at May 23, 2003 07:02 PMGainsbourg is not mainly admired for his sleaziest songs, but for his innovative music (he was already doing rap in the mid-70's) and some very great songs (Le Poinconneur des Lilas...). Sea, Sex and Sun and 69 année érotique usually don't make the best of records.
Posted by: linca at August 2, 2003 02:59 AMYes indeed, and I don't dismiss Gainsbourg entirely... but the sleaziest songs are the ones that continue to get the most air play here. (Plus, the beatniks were doing rap in the 50s.)