Mostly shunned by television and radio, he has built through word of mouth and frequent touring a considerable following over the years, which allowed him to fill the 17,000-seater Palais Omnisport de Bercy for an anniversary concert in 1998. In recent years he has been increasingly name-dropped as an influence by the latest generation of performers in France, and was the subject of a tribute album of covers in 2002. He has been performing since the late 1960s and releasing records since 1978.
His parents sent him to a catholic boarding school. He spent few years there, where being singled out by his schoolmates started to be interested in great poets (such as Rimbaud) and writers. The catholic education he received will leave its mark on him. He became nonconformist; he wrote blasphemous lyrics, such as "Au nom du Pere, au nom du vice, au nom des rades et des mégots" (In the name of the Father, in the name of vice, in the name of the cafés and the (cigarette) butts), made biblical and latin references in "Femme de Loth" and many others. Musically, H-FT draws mostly from classic rock, with rare nods to the latest musical trends, and generally leaves the arranging to a collaborator. But his songs are most notable for instantly recognisable lyrics, with their trademarks streams of consciousness, surreal and often extreme or dark imagery, often tinged with comedy, cynicism, literary references, neologisms and liberal use of scientific, long or foreign words. The lyrical mayhem sometimes spreads into comically long song titles, such as Enfermé dans les cabinets (avec la fille mineure des 80 chasseurs), or Exercice de simple provocation avec 33 fois le mot « coupable ».
His avowed influences include Léo Ferré, Lou Reed, and many French, Anglo-saxon and German novelists and poets, with a preference for romantic litterature.
Discography
* 1978 - Tout corps vivant branché sur le secteur étant appelé à s'émouvoir
* 1979 - Autorisation de délirer
* 1980 - De l'amour, de l'art ou du cochon
* 1981 - Dernières balises (avant mutation)
* 1982 - Soleil cherche futur
* 1983 - En concert - live (double album)
* 1984 - Alambic/sortie-sud
* 1986 - En concert vol.2 - live
* 1986 - Météo für nada
* 1988 - Eros über alles
* 1988 - 1978-1983 - compilation
* 1988 - Routes 88 - live
* 1989 - 1984-1988 - compilation
* 1990 - Chroniques bluesymentales
* 1993 - Fragments d'hébétude
* 1995 - Paris-Zénith - live (double album)
* 1996 - La tentation du bonheur
* 1998 - Le bonheur de la tentation
* 1998 - 1978-1998 - compilation
* 1999 - En Concert A Bercy - live (double album)
* 2001 - Défloration 13
* 2002 - Au Bataclan - live
* 2005 - Scandale mélancolique
Autoroutes jeudi d'automne
Hubert-Félix Thiéfaine Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
M'annonçant la nouvelle de son dernier combat.
Elle me dit que la nuit l'a rendue trop fragile
Et qu'elle veut plus ramer pour d'autres Guernica
Et moi je lis ses lettres le soir dans la tempête,
En buvant des cafés dans les stations-service
Et je calcule en moi le poids de sa défaite
Et je mesure le temps qui nous apoplexie
Mais je remonte mon col, j'appuie sur le starter
Et je vais voir ailleurs, encore plus loin ailleurs...
Et je croise des vieillards qui font la sentinelle
Et me demandent si j'ai pas des cachous pour la nuit.
Je balance mes buvards et tire sur la ficelle
Pour appeler le dément qui inventa l'ennui
Et je promène son masque au fond de mes sacoches
Avec le négatif de nos photos futures.
Je mendie l'oxygène aux sorties des cinoches
Et je vends des compresseurs à mes ladies-bromure
Et je me dis "stop !"
Mais je remonte mon col, j'appuie sur le starter
Et je vais voir ailleurs, encore plus loin ailleurs...
Il est bientôt minuit mais je fais beaucoup plus jeune.
Je piaffe et m'impatiente au fond des starting-blocks.
Je m'arrête pour mater mes corbeaux qui déjeunent
Et mes fleurs qui se tordent sous les électrochocs
Et j'imagine le rire de toutes nos cellules mortes
Quand on se tape la bascule en gommant nos années.
J'ai gardé mon turbo pour défoncer les portes
Mais parfois il me reste que les violons pour pleurer
Et je me dis "stop !"
Mais je remonte mon col, j'appuie sur le starter
Et je vais voir ailleurs, encore plus loin ailleurs...
The song "Autoroutes jeudi d'automne" by Hubert-Félix Thiéfaine speaks about a long-distance relationship between the singer and his lover, who is in a psychiatric facility. The woman sends him postcards to inform him of her latest struggles against her inner demons. She confesses that the darkness of the night makes her feel too vulnerable, and that she no longer wants to struggle for a futile cause like for other "Guernicas", referring to the famous painting by Picasso representing the terror of the Spanish Civil War. The singer reads these letters during storms, drinking coffee in service stations, calculating the weight of his lover's defeat, and measuring the time that brings them closer to their end. He could stop the agony of all these thoughts, but instead, he chooses to escape it, driving further away.
As he continues driving, he comes across old men standing guard on the streets and begging for some form of escape from their own existence, even if it's just a piece of candy. The singer reaches for his hallucinogenic drugs and calls out to the deranged person who invented them, but he is still unable to suppress the boredom that plagues him. He carries the mask of his lover's mental illness with him and looks for future photographs in the negatives of their past. He begs for oxygen at cinema exits and distributes compressors to the women who have been prescribed bromide, a sedative used during the nineteenth century to suppress sexual desire.
He knows that time is running out, and he can't undo the damage caused by his own transgressions in life. Nonetheless, he fantasizes about reversing the effects of time and how it might be amusing to watch as their dead cells come back to life. He keeps his turbo-charged engine ready, intending to break down the many doors that block his way, but when he is alone with his thoughts, he can only burst into tears.
Line by Line Meaning
Elle m'envoie des cartes postales de son asile,
She sends me postcards from her asylum,
M'annonçant la nouvelle de son dernier combat.
Announcing news of her latest battle.
Elle me dit que la nuit l'a rendue trop fragile
She tells me that the night has made her too fragile
Et qu'elle veut plus ramer pour d'autres Guernica
And that she doesn't want to row for other Guernicas
Et moi je lis ses lettres le soir dans la tempête,
And I read her letters in the stormy evenings,
En buvant des cafés dans les stations-service
Drinking coffee in the gas station
Et je calcule en moi le poids de sa défaite
And I calculate the weight of her defeat within myself,
Et je mesure le temps qui nous apoplexie
And I measure the time that paralyzes us
Et je me dis "stop !"
And I tell myself "stop!"
Mais je remonte mon col, j'appuie sur le starter
But I raise my collar, press the accelerator
Et je vais voir ailleurs, encore plus loin ailleurs...
And I go see elsewhere, even further away...
Et je croise des vieillards qui font la sentinelle
And I come across elderly people who stand guard,
Et me demandent si j'ai pas des cachous pour la nuit.
And ask me if I have any cough drops for the night.
Je balance mes buvards et tire sur la ficelle
I throw my blotting papers and pull the string to
Pour appeler le dément qui inventa l'ennui
Summon the madman who invented boredom
Et je promène son masque au fond de mes sacoches
And I walk around with his mask in the depths of my bags,
Avec le négatif de nos photos futures.
With the negative of our future photos.
Je mendie l'oxygène aux sorties des cinoches
I beg for oxygen at the exits of movie theaters,
Et je vends des compresseurs à mes ladies-bromure
And I sell compressors to my bromide ladies
Il est bientôt minuit mais je fais beaucoup plus jeune.
It's almost midnight but I look much younger.
Je piaffe et m'impatiente au fond des starting-blocks.
I paw and get impatient in the starting blocks.
Je m'arrête pour mater mes corbeaux qui déjeunent
I stop to watch my crows having lunch
Et mes fleurs qui se tordent sous les électrochocs
And my flowers twisting under electroshocks
Et j'imagine le rire de toutes nos cellules mortes
And I imagine the laughter of all our dead cells
Quand on se tape la bascule en gommant nos années.
When we swing and erase our years.
J'ai gardé mon turbo pour défoncer les portes
I've kept my turbo to break down the doors,
Mais parfois il me reste que les violons pour pleurer
But sometimes all that's left for me is to cry with the violins.
Mais je remonte mon col, j'appuie sur le starter
But I raise my collar, press the accelerator
Et je vais voir ailleurs, encore plus loin ailleurs...
And I go see elsewhere, even further away...
Contributed by Eli Y. Suggest a correction in the comments below.