October 11th marks the 50th anniversary of Edith Piaf’s death. A few days ago, a bunch of great French singers paid tribute to La Mome in New York. Anyone’s who seen the movie La Vie en Rose or read about Edith, knows about her ties to the big apple. See an introduction to that show here. Below, a few performances by Elodie Frégé, Olivia Ruiz and Coeur de Pirate on that tribute night:
Tomorrow she performs on Later…With Jools Holland. CMS is born in Miama, has a Haitian dad and a French mum and has put a Haitian poem to jazz music:
More on Cécile here, and here.
Remember Détective? The band of former Guided By Voices-member James Greer and the sulty Guylaine Vivarat? Well, they’re a trio now (Hi Chris!), and they changed their name to DTCV. Because this name is easier to find, and the internet isn’t kind to French accent marks. DTCV include flute solo’s, free jazz saxophone work outs and write songs that pass the eleven minute mark, but they also master the art of writing slow seductive French ballads for watching raindrops on windows. As you can hear in Contre Jour, taken from their new album.
One of those albums that time forgot: Chansons et violons by Timna Brauer, daughter of Austrian painter Arik Brauer who also was a co-founder of the Vienna School of Fantastic Realism. Realized in 1999 with the Elias Meiri Ensemble, Chansons et violons serves as an homage to the holy trinity of Brassens, Brel and Piaf; classic French song material showcased chamber music style – piano, cello, violin –, a cool concept suffering a bit from Miss Brauer’s every so often all-too dramatic renditions. Nonetheless the albums’s opener, a classy swingin’ version of Georges Brassens’ Je me suis fait tout petit, lacks all the phoney grandiloquence and has that certain finger snippin’ grandeur reminiscent of Cristina Branco‘s most enchanting French language excursions. Fine art for sure.
Timna Brauer – Je me suis fait tout petit
Blow Up Doll’s Mordi treats us to a guestpost on the new Alka album:
Alka Balbir, French actress and now singer (don’t all the best ones do both?!) and probably model by the look of her, has released her first album – imaginatively titled ‘La premiere fois’. Songwriter supremo Benjamin Biolay has had his very talented hands all over the album, writing and producing the majority of it. Alkas breathy voice is very reminiscent of 70s Jane Birkin or 80s Isabelle Adjani – essentially that means breathy, almost orgasmic.
Combining the noughties equivalent of Serge Gainsbourg (Initials BB?!) with her vocals has resulted in an album that at times sounds like it could actually be a Serge and Jane lost classic – ‘Qui je suis’ could have been lifted straight from the ‘Di doo dah‘ album.
There are a couple of songs where Benjamin features – his duets can be a bit hit and miss (see Vanessa Paradis ’Profite’ ) but the ones on here work really well.
‘D’un amour a l’autre’ could easily slip on the end of Adjanis ‘Pull Marine’ album – one of the most wonderful parts of this song is her ‘Blah blah blah, blah, blah’ lyrics – sexy, naughty with a tongue firmly in her cheek. On a couple of the songs I wondered if she was actually about to pass out from an overwhelming orgasm – her voice achingly trying to keep up with the beat – just check out ‘Te satisfaire!’ As well as the more obvious comparisons to the Gainbourg girls – the album sounds current- there’s a sedated electronica vibe, so it feels fresh yet familiar
The final track is Alkas brilliant cover of France Galls song ‘Les gens bien éleves’ – very cute and a great way to end her first album.
If you like her – and let’s be honest, what’s not to like here? I’d definitely recommend seeking out a song not featured on the album called ‘Affaire classée’ that she recorded with Chateau Marmont.
I hope Alkas ‘premiere fois’ wasn’t painful for her- it was a pleasure for me!
When it comes to oblivion and bereavement, Washingtonian singer/ songwriter Mark Lanegan can be considered an expert on the matter. His last album was titled Blues Funeral, and on his recent one, Imitations, he’s covering Gérard Manset’s Elégie funèbre, with a tongue heavier than those of four exhausted pallbearers. That’s what French language does to Americans.
Gérard Manset could have been the French David Bowie. Instead, he’s become a myth. Elégie funèbre is the last song on his landmark second album »La Mort d’Orion” (1970), his so-called »oratorio rock-symphonique«. For more about Manset and the album, see here. It’s all about sound and vision.
Betrand Cantat is tragic soul. Best known for the black heart processions that were his songs with Noir Désir, but probably even better known for the killing of his girlfriend, actress Marie Trintignant, now 10 years ago in Vilnius. Was it an accident, was it murder? Is three years in prison enough? Big questions. Cantant was released, his house was burned down, his first wife and the mother of his two children commited suicide, his former band called it quits. Now, Cantat is back with former Sixteen Horsepower-member Pascal Humbert, as the duo Détroit. Droit dans le soleil is the first track of an upcoming album, Horizons. A more suitable title could’ve been ‘melancholy and the infinite sadness’.
