Son of an opera singer and an Italian piano teacher (Liette), he was raised by his grandparents in Toulouse, where he heard Glenn Miller, Édith Piaf and Louis Armstrong (among others) on the radio.
In 1947 he failed his baccalaureat and commenced a career in journalism, writing for various journals including Le Journal des Curistes at Vichy and L'Echo d'Alger. At the same time he wrote songs for Marcel Amont (Le barbier de Belleville, Le balayeur du roi) and Philippe Clay (Joseph, La sentinelle). He met Georges Brassens, who became his friend and mentor.
In 1949 he performed his military service in the foreign legion at Rabat, Morocco.
He sent his lyrics to Marguerite Monnot, Édith Piaf's songwriter, who put them to music. (Méphisto, Le Sentier de la guerre). He started to sing for a livelihood in 1959 in a Parisian cabaret in Montmartre, Le lapin agile.
In 1962, he decided to sing his works himself: Une petite fille and Cécile ma fille (dedicated to his daughter, born in 1962 to his wife Sylvie, whom he met at Le lapin agile). These songs made him immediately known to the larger public, which he had already started to penetrate by participating in the concerts of Dalida.
A car accident immobilised him for several months in 1963. The following year he travelled to Brazil, and sang in prestigious halls in Paris: the Olympia, the Palais, the Théâtre de la Ville.
Following the death of his friend Jacques Audiberti in 1965 he wrote, in homage, the song Chanson pour le maçon.
The events of May 1968 inspired him to the torrential Paris Mai, a plea for life, which would be banned from the airwaves. The same year he recorded his first live album at the Olympia: Une soirée avec Claude Nougaro.
His career continued normally punctuated with success: Le jazz et la java, Tu verras, Île de Ré, Armstrong, Toulouse, Petit taureau. But in 1984, his recording company did not renew his contract. Nougaro left for New York, seeking inspiration, and while there wrote and recorded a self-financed disc, Nougayork, whose resounding success was a surprise.
In 1988 Victoires de la musique rewarded him with best album and best artist, and between 1993 and 1997 he released three new albums.
His health deteriorated after 1995, when he underwent a heart operation. In 2003, his condition left him unable to appear at the festival du Verbe at Toulouse. From 1998 to 2004 he devoted himself more to concerts and festivals, apart from an album in aid of children suffering from AIDS. Having undergone further surgery in early 2004, he died of cancer in March, 74 years old.
His music drew inspiration, among other sources, from American jazz, from which he borrowed heavily (Charles Mingus, Louis Armstrong, Dave Brubeck, Sonny Rollins), but also from Brazilian music (Antonio Carlos Jobim, Baden Powell de Aquino, Chico Buarque).
Allee Des Brouillards
Claude Nougaro Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Polis, polis trop polis
Et qu'tu vois plus ton visage
Dans le miroir dépoli
De leurs yeux qui te traversent
Comme si t'étais pas devant
Ô femme, c'est que ta jeunesse
S'est envolée dans le vent
Le vent qui sait le vieil art
De larguer les feuilles mortes
Allée des Brouillards
Allée des Brouillards
Tu peux prendre des bains d'mousse
Croquer des biscottes sans sel
Sur ta peau des lunes rousses
Ont viré tes lunes de miel
C'est fini, y a plus personne
Pour les caresses déplacées
Tu peux r'passer ton automne
À la vapeur du passé
Les bras tendus comme des tiges
Au jeu des câlins maillards
Tu s'ras seule jusqu'au vertige
Allée des Brouillards
Allée des Brouillards
Mais de quel droit je t'inflige
Ce tableau désespéré
Tu pourrais être ma fille
Tu n'en as rien à cirer
L'hiver tu le fais craquer
Et lorsque tu seras vieille
Vers minuit, minuit un quart
J'te le dis au creux d'l'oreille
Il te reste un p'tit rancard
Si t'as pas le cœur trouillard
Mon fantôme est un gaillard
Allée des Brouillards
Allée des Brouillards
Des Brouillards
The lyrics of Claude Nougaro's song "Allée des Brouillards" represent a thoughtful reflection on the passage of time and the fading of youth. The song starts by describing a world where people become too polished, too wise, and too self-centered to see others. The singer addresses a woman who appears to be aging, suggesting that her youthful beauty has faded along with the passing of time. The line "Le vent qui claque les portes, le vent qui sait le vieil art / De larguer les feuilles mortes Allée des Brouillards" (The wind that slams doors, the wind that knows the old art / Of dropping dead leaves all Along the Foggy Lane) metaphorically compares the wind to the inevitability of aging, which uproots things and sweeps them away.
The song continues with the singer acknowledging that the woman can no longer expect to receive the same impulsive attentions she once enjoyed. He says that she can resort to reminiscing past moments and engaging with her memories to get through the autumn of her life. The final verse changes the tone, as the singer admits he has imposed a bleak vision of the future on the woman. He apologizes for doing so and, in effect, acknowledges that everyone has their path to take. The final lines of the song suggest that even at midnight or later, anyone is welcome to find comfort with the singer's ghost in the foggy alley.
Line by Line Meaning
Quand les hommes deviennent sages
When men become wise
Polis, polis trop polis
Polished, polished too polished
Et qu'tu vois plus ton visage
And you no longer see your face
Dans le miroir dépoli
In the frosted mirror
De leurs yeux qui te traversent
From their eyes that pass right through you
Comme si t'étais pas devant
As if you were not there
Ô femme, c'est que ta jeunesse
Oh woman, it is that your youth
S'est envolée dans le vent
Has flown away in the wind
Le vent qui claque les portes
The wind that slams the doors
Le vent qui sait le vieil art
The wind that knows the ancient art
De larguer les feuilles mortes
Of letting go of dead leaves
Allée des Brouillards
Alley of Mists
Tu peux prendre des bains d'mousse
You can take bubble baths
Croquer des biscottes sans sel
Munch on unsalted crackers
Sur ta peau des lunes rousses
On your skin, red moons
Ont viré tes lunes de miel
Have turned your honeymoon moons
C'est fini, y a plus personne
It's over, there's no one left
Pour les caresses déplacées
For inappropriate caresses
Tu peux r'passer ton automne
You can go through your autumn again
À la vapeur du passé
In the steam of the past
Les bras tendus comme des tiges
Arms stretched like stems
Au jeu des câlins maillards
In the game of dirty hugs
Tu s'ras seule jusqu'au vertige
You'll be alone until vertigo
Allée des Brouillards
Alley of Mists
Mais de quel droit je t'inflige
But by what right do I inflict upon you
Ce tableau désespéré
This desperate picture
Tu pourrais être ma fille
You could be my daughter
Tu n'en as rien à cirer
You don't care
L'hiver tu le fais craquer
You have him wrapped around your finger in winter
Et lorsque tu seras vieille
And when you're old
Vers minuit, minuit un quart
Around midnight, quarter past midnight
J'te le dis au creux d'l'oreille
I'll tell you in a whisper
Il te reste un p'tit rancard
You still have a little date left
Si t'as pas le cœur trouillard
If you're not too scared
Mon fantôme est un gaillard
My ghost is a bold one
Allée des Brouillards
Alley of Mists
Des Brouillards
Of Mists
Lyrics © MUSIC SALES CORPORATION, LES EDITIONS DU CHIFFRE NEUF
Written by: Richard Galliano, Claude Nougaro
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind