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Georges Brassens was a French singer-songwriter known for accompanying himself with his acoustic guitar. He wrote some extremely controversial, yet poetic songs. In doing so, he managed to change attitudes across France.
He was uncompromising when composing his songs. His tactical method of addressing issues was profound and often humorous, making him a unique and effective figure in the French community.
Brassens, born in 1921 in the small Mediterrenean port of Sete, wanted to be a poet. Read Full BioGeorges Brassens was a French singer-songwriter known for accompanying himself with his acoustic guitar. He wrote some extremely controversial, yet poetic songs. In doing so, he managed to change attitudes across France.
He was uncompromising when composing his songs. His tactical method of addressing issues was profound and often humorous, making him a unique and effective figure in the French community.
Brassens, born in 1921 in the small Mediterrenean port of Sete, wanted to be a poet. He realized very early however that poetry in the 20th century could hardly put bread on the table and instead set himself to become a singer.
He is much less famous internationally than contemporaries like Charles Aznavour, Edith Piaf and Yves Montand, as much of the impact of his songs came from the lyrics, which proved difficult to translate into other languages. He loved the Middle Ages and used a great deal of Old French vocabulary, as well as many classical - ie., Latin and Greek - references. Few people, even in France, possess the background to fully understand his songs.
Yet he was at the same time a hugely popular singer and many of his songs still carry a lot of appeal and relevance. In this sense, he can be compared to Boris Vian, to Jacques Brel, and to a lesser extent to Serge Gainsbourg.
He was very sophisticated, yet at the same time used profanity liberally. While he wasn't politically engaged, he was nevertheless unambiguously a leftist, many of his songs carrying blatant and buoyant anarchist overtones.
While his music was initially quite primitive, the 1950's St-Germain-des-Pres influence quickly made itself felt and while subdued and - in his mind - always secondary to the lyrics, it became increasingly sophisticated - to the point that many of his songs have been covered and reinterpretated by jazzmen (see for instance this UK site: www.projetbrassens.eclipse.co.uk)
He died in 1981, but up to this date (2006) there are few French people - including most of those born since - who can't sing along to his most famous song, Les Copains d'abord ("Friends foremost") or his "Bancs public" ("Public Benches").
For those interested, this site carries a number of (quite good) English tranlations of his songs: www.brassens.org
He was uncompromising when composing his songs. His tactical method of addressing issues was profound and often humorous, making him a unique and effective figure in the French community.
Brassens, born in 1921 in the small Mediterrenean port of Sete, wanted to be a poet. Read Full BioGeorges Brassens was a French singer-songwriter known for accompanying himself with his acoustic guitar. He wrote some extremely controversial, yet poetic songs. In doing so, he managed to change attitudes across France.
He was uncompromising when composing his songs. His tactical method of addressing issues was profound and often humorous, making him a unique and effective figure in the French community.
Brassens, born in 1921 in the small Mediterrenean port of Sete, wanted to be a poet. He realized very early however that poetry in the 20th century could hardly put bread on the table and instead set himself to become a singer.
He is much less famous internationally than contemporaries like Charles Aznavour, Edith Piaf and Yves Montand, as much of the impact of his songs came from the lyrics, which proved difficult to translate into other languages. He loved the Middle Ages and used a great deal of Old French vocabulary, as well as many classical - ie., Latin and Greek - references. Few people, even in France, possess the background to fully understand his songs.
Yet he was at the same time a hugely popular singer and many of his songs still carry a lot of appeal and relevance. In this sense, he can be compared to Boris Vian, to Jacques Brel, and to a lesser extent to Serge Gainsbourg.
He was very sophisticated, yet at the same time used profanity liberally. While he wasn't politically engaged, he was nevertheless unambiguously a leftist, many of his songs carrying blatant and buoyant anarchist overtones.
While his music was initially quite primitive, the 1950's St-Germain-des-Pres influence quickly made itself felt and while subdued and - in his mind - always secondary to the lyrics, it became increasingly sophisticated - to the point that many of his songs have been covered and reinterpretated by jazzmen (see for instance this UK site: www.projetbrassens.eclipse.co.uk)
He died in 1981, but up to this date (2006) there are few French people - including most of those born since - who can't sing along to his most famous song, Les Copains d'abord ("Friends foremost") or his "Bancs public" ("Public Benches").
For those interested, this site carries a number of (quite good) English tranlations of his songs: www.brassens.org
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Le Fantôme
by Georges Brassens
C'était tremblant, c'était troublant
C'était vêtu d'un drap tout blanc
Ça présentait tous les symptômes
Tous les dehors de la vision
Les faux airs de l'apparition
En un mot, c'était un fantôme
A sa manière d'avancer
A sa façon de balancer
Les hanches quelque peu convexes
Je compris que j'avais affaire
A quelqu'un du genr' que j'prefère
A un fantôme du beau sexe
Je suis un p'tit poucet perdu
Me dit-ell', d'un' voix morfondue
Un pauvre fantôme en déroute
Plus de trace des feux follets
Plus de trace des osselets
Dont j'avais jalonné ma route
Des poèt's sans inspiration
Auront pris quelle aberration
Mes feux follets pour des étoiles
De pauvres chiens de commissaire
Auront croqué quelle misère !
Mes oss'lets bien garnis de moelle
A l'heure où le coq chantera
J'aurai bonn' mine avec mon drap
Hein de faux plis et de coutures
Et dans ce siècle profane où
Les gens ne croient plus guère à nous
On va crier à l'imposture
Moi, qu'un chat perdu fait pleurer
Pensez si j'eus le cœur serré
Devant l'embarras du fantôme
Venez, dis-je en prenant sa main
Que je vous montre le chemin
Que je vous reconduise at home
L'histoire finirait ici
Mais la brise, et je l'en r'mercie
Troussa le drap d'ma cavalière
Dame, il manquait quelques oss'lets
Mais le reste, loin d'être laid
Etait d'un' grâce singulière
Mon Cupidon, qui avait la
Flèche facile en ce temps-là
Fit mouche et, le feu sur les tempes
Je conviai, sournoisement
La belle à venir un moment
Voir mes icônes, mes estampes
Mon cher, dit-ell', vous êtes fou
J'ai deux mille ans de plus que vous
Le temps, madam', que nous importe
Mettant le fantôm' sous mon bras
Bien enveloppé dans son drap
Vers mes pénates je l'emporte
Eh bien, messieurs, qu'on se le dis
Ces belles dames de jadis
Sont de satanées polissonnes
Plus expertes dans le déduit
Que certain's dames d'aujourd'hui
Et je ne veux nommer personne
Au p'tit jour on m'a réveillé
On secouait mon oreiller
Avec un' fougu' plein' de promesses
Mais, foin des dédic's de Capoue
C'était mon père criant : " Debout
Vains dieux, tu vas manquer la messe
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: GEORGES CHARLES BRASSENS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
by Georges Brassens
C'était tremblant, c'était troublant
C'était vêtu d'un drap tout blanc
Ça présentait tous les symptômes
Tous les dehors de la vision
Les faux airs de l'apparition
En un mot, c'était un fantôme
A sa manière d'avancer
A sa façon de balancer
Les hanches quelque peu convexes
Je compris que j'avais affaire
A quelqu'un du genr' que j'prefère
A un fantôme du beau sexe
Je suis un p'tit poucet perdu
Me dit-ell', d'un' voix morfondue
Un pauvre fantôme en déroute
Plus de trace des feux follets
Plus de trace des osselets
Dont j'avais jalonné ma route
Des poèt's sans inspiration
Auront pris quelle aberration
Mes feux follets pour des étoiles
De pauvres chiens de commissaire
Auront croqué quelle misère !
Mes oss'lets bien garnis de moelle
A l'heure où le coq chantera
J'aurai bonn' mine avec mon drap
Hein de faux plis et de coutures
Et dans ce siècle profane où
Les gens ne croient plus guère à nous
On va crier à l'imposture
Moi, qu'un chat perdu fait pleurer
Pensez si j'eus le cœur serré
Devant l'embarras du fantôme
Venez, dis-je en prenant sa main
Que je vous montre le chemin
Que je vous reconduise at home
L'histoire finirait ici
Mais la brise, et je l'en r'mercie
Troussa le drap d'ma cavalière
Dame, il manquait quelques oss'lets
Mais le reste, loin d'être laid
Etait d'un' grâce singulière
Mon Cupidon, qui avait la
Flèche facile en ce temps-là
Fit mouche et, le feu sur les tempes
Je conviai, sournoisement
La belle à venir un moment
Voir mes icônes, mes estampes
Mon cher, dit-ell', vous êtes fou
J'ai deux mille ans de plus que vous
Le temps, madam', que nous importe
Mettant le fantôm' sous mon bras
Bien enveloppé dans son drap
Vers mes pénates je l'emporte
Eh bien, messieurs, qu'on se le dis
Ces belles dames de jadis
Sont de satanées polissonnes
Plus expertes dans le déduit
Que certain's dames d'aujourd'hui
Et je ne veux nommer personne
Au p'tit jour on m'a réveillé
On secouait mon oreiller
Avec un' fougu' plein' de promesses
Mais, foin des dédic's de Capoue
C'était mon père criant : " Debout
Vains dieux, tu vas manquer la messe
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: GEORGES CHARLES BRASSENS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
To comment on specific lyrics, highlight them
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