Bonjour à tous ! Aujourd'hui, on se retrouve pour une critique du nouveau coffret de la collection "Écoutez le cinéma !" de Stéphane Lerouge, consacré à l’œuvre musico-cinématographique du (plus) grand artiste français : Serge Gainsbourg.
This good value set comprises Gainsbourg's 3 reggae albums (2 studio & 1 live - originally released between 1979 & 1981) housed in a smart 10 inch hardback book with some great photos. This collection uses the 2003 'remixed' versions of the albums - when the bass and drums were carefully cranked up for a heavier reggae sound, with Gainsbourg's complete vocal parts left in.
As early as 1961, Serge Gainsbourg was one of the most extraordinary artists of the French pop scene, and during the first part of the '60s the crooner produced a series of outrageously brilliant albums with producer/arranger Alain Goraguer. One of his most intoxicating amalgams of jazz and pop styles, L'Etonnant Serge Gainsbourg comes highly recommended to fans of '60s French pop. An utterly essential early document of Serge Gainsbourg while he was still a mildly respectable man – but that's not say there aren't hints of his notorious decadence in this early work.
You're Under Arrest, Gainsbourg's final album, was another collaboration with American Billy Rush in New Jersey. It's difficult to say what Rush was going for here with Gainsbourg. There's the feeling that Rush was taken with both Nile Rodgers' Chic and Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five (especially with the "hugh, hugh, hugh" in the refrains). These are overly slick funk tunes that border on both new wave and rap, and seem to leave the subtle ironies of Gainsbourg's demented lyrics behind – which is too bad because this record is a step up lyrically from Love on the Beat.
Serge Gainsbourg's fascination with the noisier bodily functions has been well-documented, both by his biographers and by his own records. Who else, after all, would commission Sly & Robbie to lay down their earthiest, dubbiest reggae rhythm, then punctuate it with nonstop farting noises ("Evguenie Sokolov" from 1981's Mauvaises Nouvelles des Etoiles album)? Who else would write a novel about a gas-stricken painter who turns his body-burps to his artistic advantage? And whose else could conceive an album dedicated in its near-entirety to…well, the song titles tell that story: "La Poupee Qui Fait" translates as "The Doll That Goes to the Toilet," the title track documents the messier consequences of anal sex, and "Des Vents, des Pets, des Boums" means, simply, "Wind, Farts, Booms."
Recorded in the Bahamas with the same all-star personnel as 1979's Aux Armes et Cætera, Mauvaises Nouvelles des Etoiles is yet another of Gainsbourg's reggae albums, including all the deficiencies inherent in its predecessor as well as the few positives. The breezy melodies of his prime material from the '60s and '70s are unfortunately missing. Though the sound and production is up to Gainsbourg's usual high standards, the songs are much weaker than expected. With little to anchor it except the players and Gainsbourg's seedy vocal delivery, Mauvaises Nouvelles des Etoiles simply floats away. :)