Jacques Dutronc is Existence

 

Jacques Dutronc is Existence

Jacques Dutronc "L' Arsène" Vinyl, LP, Album, France, 1971 (Disques Vogue)

 

Being an English-speaking music listener going into French pop music is often a journey without a map but some signal posts along the road. There are essential figures one hears about, and one of those significant artists is Jacques Dutronc. He started off as a guitarist and did many recording sessions by others in the early 1960s. It wasn't until he started to write songs with Jacques Lanzmann, a poet, and a much-older lyricist, that his reputation as a figure in the French entertainment world. 

When I hear Dutronc's 60s material, I think of Ray Davies. It's the combination of garage rock but obviously with a great sense of style and wit. Lanzmann's lyrics are satirical in most cases, but having an older man's presence mixed in with a rogue-like personality of Jacques Dutronc is a beautiful juxtaposition between greatness and silliness. Of all the French rock figures, including Serge Gainsbourg and Jacno, Dutronc plays with the almost-tourist mentality of what we think of as a Frenchman. A devil in the form of a handsome man, with a gleam in his eye. 

"L'Arsène" is the album's title. In actuality, it is the theme song to the TV series based on the tremendous fictional criminal figure Arsène Lupin, created by Maurice Leblanc. On the back cover of this album, Dutronc is displayed as Lupin. Dutronc often has a smile, which conveys a sense of either sensuality adventure or a criminal's favorite pastime. The music brings a spirit of good times, but I sense that it can turn into darkness. In the 1970s, Dutronc music changes (of course), but it is rich with French music tradition mixed in with the Rock n' Roll of that era. More of a Punk than a lover of Laurel Canyon culture. 

April 28, 2020 (In the Year of the Trump Virus)

April 28, 2020 (In The Year of The Trump Virus) For Marc Weinstein

Mentally I'm reaching the stars, but physically I'm hitting the basement. My legs are achy due that I have stopped my three-mile walks per day. If I listen closely, I can hear the left leg saying, "walk me, Master." The other leg is saying, "No Master, there is another episode of "Wanted: Dead or Alive" to watch. That is existentialism in a nutshell.

I compiled a major playlist for our Nik Cohn episode of "Book Musik." Over two-hours long, it is the history of pop seen through the ears and eyes of Mr. Cohn but selected by yours truly. My co-host Kimley and I usually do this together, but due to the size and zillion choices one can make, it's easier if one person does it. Otherwise, we would be on the phone for hours saying 'Nah, or 'yeah.' The next book we will be doing is a book on The Kinks. We're looking forward to the next episode.

Like a Zen Monk addicted to silence and space, I'm focusing on keeping myself busy. Even in the middle of the night, I find myself thinking about what I will do when I wake up. I'm excited at 3:45 AM, just tossing and turning in expectations of the next day. What disasters will arrive in our world? Sometimes I imagine myself as a prisoner. Oddly enough, I'm a restless soul. I like going out to record and book stores to reimagine a landscape of my choosing. Now, I don't have those types of choices, although I do spend a great deal of time thinking of being in a specific store.

Also, in the middle of the night, I'm thinking about being in Amoeba on Sunset Boulevard. Although the last time I was there, it must have been about two months ago. Still, I can recall each department and section of the store. Usually, when I go to Amoeba, I like to check out the new, used vinyl that just came in, and then I go to the "A" section of vinyl to see if they have that rare Kevin Ayers album. They never do, but it's the adventure of maybe it will be there. Then in alphabetical order, I check out the entire 'rock' section, and that will take me into the back room. I go into the jazz section to see if they have any Andre Hodeir or Michel Legrand albums, and then work my way to the classical section. I see if they have any Glenn Gould or Erik Satie records, and if I fail (which I usually do), I then check out their 20th-century classical music section. Then comes my favorite section of the store, which is the oldies. For the life of me, I don't understand why Scott Walker is in their oldies section. I understand The Walker Brothers, but Scott's "Drift" in oldies?

I end up in the foreign section, where I check out the French section, looking for later Jacques Dutronc recordings, which seems impossible. Then on the way to the exit, I look through Soundtracks, especially the Morricone section. If I time myself perfectly, I can leave the store, and get on the No. 2 bus back to Silver Lake. This is time well spent. Then I get out of bed.

- Tosh Berman

September 18, 2018

September 18, 2018

A dream trip to Paris is more poignant when you develop back pain.  Le French Chair does not fit the needs of my body, and therefore there is some suffering involved on this trip.  Oddly enough I'm not complaining because I'm happy here in Paris.  Still, I plan to go to the bookshop at Pompidou Centre, which is less than a mile from my headquarters.  A beautiful walk, but now the stroll will add a certain amount of awkwardness and pain.

Yesterday in a higher state of pain I walked down Rue Vieille du Temple, which is the street for independent fashion boutiques, bistros/cafes, restaurants, and specialty shops of all sorts.  The stores around the Louvre are crap, but here on the road, it is nothing but refined chicness and beautiful fashion. 

One of the stores I admire greatly is Au Petit Bonheur la Chance (13 rue Saint-Paul 75004) which is an antique store, but focusing on 20th-century pop culture items and objects from one's youth.  This perfectly named store is jam-packed with sewing material, notebooks from another era/generation, and most movingly a whole section of photographs taken of family trips and get-togethers.  Why these photos are not in some family's collection is a tad depressing, but also has an emotional charge when you look through these images.  I found a box of 7" 45 rpm singles that included a Jacques Dutronc record, but alas, I have the same copy at home.  So its a shop full of French toys from the 1950s, old fabric, napkins, statuettes, old playing cards, games, and old retail signs plus postcards from another time and era.  The shop is very much a second-hand store, but beautifully curated with real soul and feeling.  A very charming way of going into the past, but alas, it is not my past, but the history of someone of my age, who is French.  

Their website is http://aupetitbonheurlachance.fr

As I struggled toward home (here in Paris), I went to Muji France to purchase two striped shirts - both cost under $40, and as anyone who knows me personally, I have a sizeable striped shirt collection.  The best high-quality shop for strip shirts and shoes is St. James, which is a traditional French clothing company and the ground zero for striped shirts and sweaters.  I suspect that me and perhaps hardcore TinTin (although not French technically) fans will see this spot as a shrine.  I do treat the store in such a manner, but alas, the clothing here is beyond my budget, which is basically between a few euros and entirely broke.  But to walk into this small shop and breath in the strip shirt inventory is as good as sex.  I would give you the address, but I don't want any outsiders coming here!  Although with the help of Google you will find it quickly enough. 

I was going to have dinner out, but instead, my wife went to the Pharmache de la Place Republique to get a can of cream for my aching back, and therefore we had Chinese food-to-go in our petite rented apartment.   All holidays have a sense of tragedy, and you need that to appreciate the good things that one experiences on a trip to another land. 

- Tosh Berman

"The Despair of Monkeys and Other Trifles" a Memoir by Françoise Hardy; Translated by Jon E. Graham (Feral House)

ISBN: 978-1-62731-060-4

Françoise Hardy, along with Serge Gainsbourg, France Gall, and of course her husband, Jacques Dutronc is one of the great architects of the French pop sound, sometimes known as Yé-Yé.   For an American, the French pop/rock world is almost like living in Superman's Bizarro, where everything is slightly different, or just a tad weird.  The French are very formal in the recording well, and there is also a deep respect for poetry, which comes through the lyrics.  Especially someone like a genius such as Gainsbourg.  "The Despair of Monkeys and Other Trifles" is a fascinating memoir, for one, we don't get that much of an insight into that world if we don't speak in French.  So, a book like this is essential to one who loves French 1960s pop music.  

Hardy's life is not unusual, but still a troubling family background.  Her mother was cold, and her sister was insane.  And her long-term relationship with Jacques Dutronc is both a head-scratcher and kind of awesome, in that they both respect their roles in the relationship - although it took Hardy a long time to accept certain aspects of her husband's mental and physical state.   In a cliché saying, it sounds so French!   In her manner, Hardy is very thorough on her stance in life, which is a mixture of sophistication and a believer of astrology, which she has written books on that subject matter, as well as a column in a publication.   I'm also delighted that she knew Stockhausen and appreciated his music and other modern experimental composers of that era, even at the height of her fame in the 1960s.  

Indeed an iconic beauty, but I'm not surprised of her unease with her physical appearance or her feelings of stage fright.  For me, the way she sings there is a hesitation like she wants to grant the listener an invitation into their lives.  Which I think is one of her big appeals as a singing artist and songwriter.   There's a hesitation in her manner that is very seductive.  Still, she was then, and I suspect still, a major player in French pop music world.  Reading the book, you come upon every significant French star - both on artists she worked or ran around with.   So the reader gets a nice snapshot of the scene at the time.  The French entertainment world was/is a small one, so I suspect it's difficult to avoid anyone of importance.  For example, even my beloved Louis Furey is mention here and there in the book, and he's obscure like a ghost in the English speaking world. 

If there is a weakness in the book, it may be within the English translation of Hardy's prose in French.  Reading the book, I feel like I'm reading a translation which usually means there is something wrong with the style of the translator.  Or it may be just Hardy's writing itself.  Still, if you are a fan of Hardy's music, this book is a must-read.  A few years ago I published Serge Gainsbourg's biography by Gilles Verlant, and this book is an excellent companion piece, due to the coverage of the French pop music world, which is a mystery to most French non-speaking people. 

Music Listened to on July 12, 2016

Such a beautiful record.  I love the fatality of it all.

It is like you are taken to the cliff's edge, and your looking down, and the person behind you, pushes you over. 

Jacno, a total mystery to me as of last year.  I'm thrilled to discover him.  This specific album is superb.  On the surface he's a combination of Serge Gainsbourg and Jacques Dutronc, but I suspect he has his own thing going.  

April 28, 2014

April 28, 2014

I know I’m being naive, but to see such horror in such a horrifying context is …. Horrible.   As a meditation, there are those who turn away from horror thoughts, but I choose to go into the pool of such imagery, to attempt to make it not as worthy or to remove its importance to my life. Benito Mussollni’s death, at the hands of his fellow citizens is a series of images that are hard for me to erase in my mind.   In 1945, him and his mistress Clara Petacci, were shot to death in Mezzegra, and then taken to Milan, where their bodies were hung upside down in front of a gas station.  The crowd there vented their frustration and rage, and it is shocking to see Mussollni’s body like it was slaughtered meat at a butcher’s shop.  The execution of Saddam Hussein now comes to mind as well.  Is it justice, or is it the brutality of our times being expressed over and over again?

The dialogue between Saddam and his executioner is almost like a Noel Coward comedy, except within minutes we see the body of Saddam with a broken neck, dead, dangling far from the ground.  The cell phone footage makes the death even more obscene.  I’m so disgusted with images such as these, yet, I feel obliged to watch them, and watch them again.  I feel if I watched them once, it will remain in my mind forever. The shocking aspect of seeing dead bodies, especially being placed in a historical context, makes it even more nauseating to me.   The pornography of violence, whatever it is at a NRA convention or on YouTube is extremely disturbing.  I think what I find depressing is the fact that we accept violence as an everyday occurrence, and in the sense it is part of our lives.  Even though I’m quick to condemn it, I am drawn to the images of destruction, specifically the smashed-in face of Mussollni and Saddam’s image of death in the hands of a crowd that knew the narration and how it will take place in front of the cameras as well in their hearts.  The only piece of art that comes to mind, that expresses the horror is Scott Walker’s song from “The Drift” called “Clara.” Here you can hear the aural sounds of the execution and the beatings of Mussollni and Clara.  It’s a gorgeous piece of music.  Jarring, yet a meditation on evil and the brutality that seem to be married forever in our way that we look at the world.

On the other hand, as like throwing dice against a wall, I appreciate the numbers in my favor coming up, and therefore I like to bath myself in the imagery of Yves Klein, who conveys a certain amount of magic or a blissful state for me.  I can easily focus on that world as well.  When I see his blue paintings or sculptures it is a perfect world to me.   I don’t think of hate, anger, just the pure color of blue penetrating my soul into a euphoric state of consciousness. Klein also did a musical piece called “Monotone” Symphony.  It is a symphony that consists of one note and it is performed by a 10 piece orchestra.   The piece consists of two parts.  The first 20 minutes is the one note being performed, and then the second part is exactly 20 minutes of silence.

If I can somehow take all the ugly obscene images that're inside my head and transform it into a world of Yves Klein, that would be my ideal life.   That, and some Jacques Dutronc music, of course.

January 30, 2014

January 30, 2014

There is at the very least a 40 years difference between us in our age. Yet Justin Bieber and I are tight pals.  We met because I heard through various circles that he was looking for a lyricist, and I’ve been working on songs for the last 30 years or so.  People think it’s an odd partnership, but history proves this wrong, specifically when you think of the French pop songwriter Jacques Dutronc and his much older lyricist Jacques Lanzmann.  It’s a good combination to have youth, but with the words coming from an older guy.  

Time-to-time, Justin and I hang out, just for inspiration, and also to share our common love for the good life.  What the both of us share, besides making art, is having a good time.  Whenever I go to his pad in “The Oaks” which is a gated community in Calabasas, we like to chill by the swimming pool, and then invite some of his friends over the house to party a bit.  The evening starts by watching films.  Justin is a bit of a film buff and he has a great admiration for films made by Robert Bresson. 

 “Pickpocket” seems to be his favorite Bresson film, and we often had gone to shopping centers such as the Beverly Center, ,  approximately around dusk, and we love to attract a crowd around him, where we, to our best ability, try to pickpocket the fans that surround him.  Justin actually has excellent hand coordination and while he talks to a fan, and here, the important part of the technique, starring directly in her eyes, while at the same time his fingers go over her purse and lifts stuff out of the bag.  I would usually be directly behind him, and just pick up the goods by making my coat pocket accessible to him for dropping off her goods. 

Doing this was a complete turn-on for us, and I think got our juices going for songwriting sessions.   For a while now, I have worked on a song with Justin called “Stealing Your Love Away.” Due to our various backgrounds, it is a tough song to write.  I’ve been in and out of love so many times in my life, and Justin only had one real love that didn’t turn out terrific.  I believe her name was Selena, and man was she a looker and a half!  

Justin used to show me some footage off his I-Phone, but just a quick glance.  Man what a tease!   Usually she was posing either naked or half-naked, and I have to admit it was a turn-on of sorts.  That in the nutshell is the beauty of our relationship.  We can share intimate items that are only between us.  Justin is really a gorgeous guy.  

We often are out driving, without a purpose or plan.  For instance, all of a sudden he wants to get in a car and go.  Go where?  Who gives a shit, just go man!  We usually drive to a remote area, mostly in the countryside, which is the beauty of living in Southern California.  One never is a long way from the ocean or the forest.   I get in the passenger side (I don’t drive) and with Justin behind the wheel it is a dance in motion.  There is something so beautiful with Justin’s face when it is matched with his yellow Lamborghini.  I often was of the view that I was watching myself and him in a movie.  I’m screaming for dear life, and he is laughing like an insane person.  He held his foot on the gas petal, going faster.  Eventually he turns off the headlights and all in front of us is pure darkness.  We speed towards the scenic space of nothing. 

Bardot a Go-Go Documentary Film on French Pop 59-69

A film that needs to be made!

Tribute to the great JACQUES DUTRONC

From the Wikipedia:

Between 1963 and 1964, Dutronc played guitar for the group "El Toro et les Cyclones" with Hadi Kalafate. During this time he also appeared at Le Golf Drouot in Paris as backing guitarist for stars including Eddy Mitchell. After performing his obligatory military service, he landed a job as assistant at Vogue Records to Artistic Director Jacques Wolfsohn. In this capacity, he arranged songs for several lesser known artists such as Zou Zou and Cleo. At Vogue Records, he teamed with writer Jacques Lanzmann, then director at Lui magazine, to create songs for up-and-coming artists. One of their first commissions was for the pop singer Benjamin, however, after his first EP failed to perform, Vogue Records unceremoniously booted him from their roster. After hearing one of the demos that Dutronc had produced, Wolfsohn declared that Jacques should perform the record for release. This single, "Et moi, et moi, et moi" was released in 1966, and its popularity turned Dutronc into a star.
With Lanzmann writing lyrics and Dutronc producing the music, the two created several significant songs. Songs such as "Et moi, et moi, et moi", "Les Playboys", and "Le cactus", are still frequently played. Other songs include "Mini, mini, mini", "Le responsable", "J'ai un tigre dans ma guitare", and "L'opportuniste".
Dutronc's songs combine American and British musical influences with French lyrical themes. Many of his early songs feature a British garage sound comparable to that of Ray Davies of The Kinks. Dutronc's "La fille du père Noël" and David Bowie's "Jean Genie" share a riff likely derived from the Yardbirds' accelerated version of Bo Diddley's "I'm a Man" (the Belgian singer Arno recorded a medley of the Dutronc and Bowie songs ("Jean Baltazaarr") with the American singer Beverly Jo Scott that highlight these similarities). However, Dutronc is distinctive for his mocking attitude toward late 1960s French youth culture. Dutronc's biggest hit was "Il est cinq heures, Paris s'eveille", with the classical flute player Roger Bourdin performing an essential part. In this song, Dutronc paints an evocative portrait of the French capital in the early morning hours.
In 1973, "Et moi, et moi, et moi" was adapted with English lyrics by Ray Dorset, leader of Mungo Jerry. "Alright Alright Alright" became a UK No. 3 hit for the group.
Also in 1973, Dutronc began a second career as an actor in the film Antoine et Sébastien, directed by Jean-Marie Périer. In the following years, Dutronc devoted most of his energies toward his acting career. He has appeared in films directed by Jean-Luc Godard, Claude Lelouch and Maurice Pialat.
Dutronc returned to music in recent years, and also has enjoyed a resurgence of popular interest in his music. Since the early Dutronc songs had a classic late-sixties freakbeat backing (provided by session musicians), his songs were played in the hip retro clubs of the UK and USA in the late 1990s, a practice which continues to this day. (Ironically, most of the people who will be dancing to the likes of "Le cactus" will have no idea what the words actually mean). He is celebrated in the 1997 Cornershop song "Brimful of Asha" with the line: "Jacques Dutronc and the Bolan Boogie/The Heavy Hitters and the Chichi music."
He currently lives in the town of Monticello on the island of Corsica.






le plus difficile





Les Playboys



Mini Mini Mini



Et Moi Et Moi Et Moi (Live)



Les Cactus





Jacques Dutronc, Serge Gainsbourg and Jame Birkin



Les Playboys, 1967



Paris s' éveille