You know Zaz. Now try La Jeanne. Don’t be fooled by the song title, it’s a French song.
You know Zaz. Now try La Jeanne. Don’t be fooled by the song title, it’s a French song.
Bring out the tie-dye-shirts, it’s psychedelica-time again. Parisian Pablo Padovani, guitarplayer for Melody’s Echo Chamber, has his own outfit called Moodoïd. Their first EP is just out, and features playful, uplifting (in every sense of the word) psych-pop with lots of lovely pixie voices. Kevin Parker of Tame Impale sat on the producer’s chair (like he did for MEC). Try this 7-minute workout, below. Or this great video.
Guestposter Mark looks back 45 years to the fabled events of 1968 in France and the counter-revolutionary role of a popular song:

‘Les évènements’ of 1968 in France, 45 years ago, took place against the anglophone sounds of the Beatles, Bob Dylan and Joan Baez. ‘The times they are a’changin’ sung the soixante-huitards. Françoise Hardy and Sylvie Vartan, at the height of their yé-yé fame, were not the student rebels’ symbols ; ‘Salut les copains’ was to them a commercial rag. Despite some attempts by Leo Ferré, a supporter of the students, no memorable song in French has celebrated the occupation of the universities or the Paris street battles with the CRS (in which, historians remind us, no one lost their life).
Instead Soixante-huit is coloured now by a popular song that reflected not the students’ hopes, but the reaction to the May évènements from the Gaullist-leaning population of France. ‘Petit fille de français moyen’, sung by Sheila (Anny Chancel), issued on 25 June 1968, must be the only song to represent counter-revolution that topped a chart. Its melody by Georges Aber and Claude Carrere, claimed to be a ‘Tango’, is rather clunky. The lyrics by Jacques Monty, which are uncomplicated and easy to follow, can be found below this recording with slide-show.
They contrast the world where people like Sheila work for a living with the lives of rich girls who have the wealth to enjoy themselves, spend time dressing, go to see arty films, and discuss ideas. A scopitone video of Sheila in a trouser-suit and other assorted clothes of the time is here.
Sheila is the daughter of a Paris market trader and thus, like Mireille Mathieu, from the small business world of people who supported De Gaulle, in contrast to the socialist and communist-leaning world of intellectuals. The great pro-De Gaulle demonstration in the Champs-Elysées on 30 May 1968, which effectively ended les évènements – the strikes continued but gradually faded away – was full of Sheilas and Mireilles.
As described in ‘Sheila – une histoire d’amour’, some radio producers who had supported the strikes of May refused to play the record until popular pressure forced them to. Les évènements resulted in universities ending their summer terms early, but that meant longer summer holidays, and by the time of la Rentrée, 45 years ago this month, Sheila’s song had done its job in quietening things, while depicting the students, who had rebelled against poor, crowded courses in the Sorbonne and elsewhere, as ‘jeunesse dorée’. This was in fact inaccurate, as the wealthy put their children into the Grandes Ecoles, which did not rebel.
Sheila, typically, is straightforward about it all, just saying, ‘Combien d’arbres coupés pour disserter sur le contenu politique de cette chanson !’.
Sheila was a big winner from 1968. Françoise Hardy ceased live concerts at the end of the year, making more more space for her to reach the top. A decade later Sheila was France’s disco queen, and is remembered for ‘Spacer’, written for her by the Chic talents Nile Rodgers and Bermard Edwards. The soixante-huitards and the student generation after them thus found themselves dancing to the counter-revolutionary Sheila singing in her charmingly-accented English – as we can still do. The 6-minute extended version of ‘Spacer’ with video of Sheila is here.
For an enjoyable encounter between Sheila and the arty left-leaning intellectual Denise Glaser on TV in 1971, see here . There is an entertaining commentary in English below. The French intellectual left which disliked her has faded away, but Sheila has had the last laugh, still recording at 67.
Even a tame mainstream ditty like Duffy’s Warwick Avenue suddenly works when fused with Serge’s Je t’aime. Kleptomaniac: Phil RetroSpector. Art form: Mash-up, of course. Verdict: Perfect crime. Check his site for more.
Dra’man, bootlegger francophone extraordinaire, with a superb mash-up of Serge’s L’anamour and Bob Marley’s No Woman, No Cry. Not to be missed.
Though being one of the finest bands ever to follow the paths of the Byrds and especially Gram Parsons into so many jingle jangle evenings, Motor City’s Volebeats are still virtually unknown even to most country rock aficionados. On their 2004 outing Country Favorites they also proved a surreal kind of humour covering songs by Parliament, Abba, Slayer or Barry White twangy-style. Their version of Serge G’s Manon, erstwhile title song of the stylish Deneuve flick Manon 70, transports the original’s ragged ambiguity clandestinely to the Seen It All Bar – that place where all the pale riders gather when they come to Paris, Texas.
Bonus: Serge’s original, of course, plus Marina Celeste’s breezy, ultra-sexy Brazil style version from her Cinéma Enchanté album. Hush, hush, sweet Manon.
Serge Gainsbourg – Manon
Marina Celeste – Manon
Extrabonus:
Giovanni Mirabassi – Manon
Lulu Gainsbourg & Marianne Faithfull – Manon
Smoke a dozen packages of Morte Sicuro per day, and maybe you’ll sound like Italian cantautore Paolo Conte someday. The former lawyer with the gravelly voice wrote Italy’s not-all-too secret national anthem Azzurro in 1968 for Adriano Celentano, before he became a superstar himself with Gelato al limon and, of course, Via con me (»s’wonderful, good luck, my babe«) in the early Eighties, combining jazz and cabaret style with melanconia, eleganza, senso and disinvoltura. Occasionally, Conte also sings in French, as on his 2010 album Nelson – a true padrone of chanson.
Paolo Conte w/ Laura Conti – C’est beau
Paolo Conte – Enfant prodige
»It’s the whim of a spoiled kid.« French writer Frédéric Beigbeder (»Mémoires d’un jeune homme dérangé«, »99 francs«) is editorial director of the freshly relaunched LUI, the unmistakably Parisian pendant to Playboy and »Le magazine de l’homme moderne«, as it was called way back in the 60s to 80s. Then, they had Romy Schneider, Mireille Darc, Sylvia Kristel or Jane Birkin. Now, the brand new first volume of the mag, offered for the dumping price of 2,90 Euros, features actress Léa Seydoux, along with a lot of worthwhile reading. And Beigbeder has a new byname you’ve already guessed: L’homme qui amait des femmes.
Cocoboy – La Playmate de Samedi Soir
Remember Tricatel, Bertrand Burgalat’s label? The technicolorized music on this label is the best reference, I’d say, to Alexander von Mehren’s music. From his bio: “Alexander von Mehren is a 29 years old pianist, songwriter and producer from Bergen, Norway. He started playing the piano at the age of four and began receiving classical piano lessons when he turned seven. During his ten years of classical training, von Mehren gradually developed an interest in alternative music and started writing his own compositions, especially inspired by French, German, Italian and British library music, 60s/70s soundtracks, alternative pop à la Stereolab and The High Llamas and the Chicago-based post-rock scene.”
One of the top tracks on AvM’s album is Champs-Elysées. I’m not sure who the girl is that Alex is duetting with, he did not respond to my tweeted question. An educated guess says it’s Nathalie Nordnes. See here.
UPDATE: Alexander did respond and yes, it’s Nathalie. See here
Alexander von Mehren – Champs-Elysées
Oriental trash pop. Les Calamités, bellydancing. Keren Ann with a mohawk. If your curiosity is tickled by these descriptions, be sure to try Riff Cohen‘s blend of fuzz-drenched, French tales of 1001 Night. She’s from Israel, studied music in Paris and is very proud of her Tunesian roots. Her album’s just out, I missed out on her first single, A Paris earlier. Shame. Riff’s voice is highly charming, her songwriting’s a bit naive or, one could say, close to 60s YeYe. Most songs on Riff’s album are in French, some in Hebrew, other in Arabic. At times, I thought back to Sapho, the Moroccan-French singer who also blended North-African influences with French-oriented pop in the 80s and 90s.
I’m expecting that, because of Riff’s exciting mix of styles and her looks, she could do well outside of France.
Interview in Haaretz HERE. Another nice interview HERE. Video for J’aime HERE