Dassin was born in New York City to Jules Dassin (Yiddish actor and film noir director) and Béatrice Launer. He began his childhood first in New York and Los Angeles, California. However after his father became a victim of the anti-communist policies of Senator Joseph McCarthy, he and his family moved from place to place across Europe.
After studying at Institut Le Rosey in Switzerland, Dassin moved back to the United States to go to college at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, Michigan after doing very well on his bachelor's exam. After college, he moved back again to France where, while working at a radio station, a record label convinced him to begin to record his songs.
By the early 1970s, Dassin's songs topped the charts in France and he became well known. Probably as a recognition of his parents' left leanings, Dassin's records were officially released in the USSR. However, the political views of his parents were not well known to the general public in the USSR, and Dassin's popularity in the USSR should be connected to his talent only. He was also a talented polyglot, recording songs in German, Spanish, Italian and Greek, as well as French and English.
He died of a heart attack during a vacation to Tahiti on August 20, 1980. He is buried at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery in Hollywood, California.
Songs:Les Champs-Élysées ,L'été indien ,Ça va pas changer le Monde ,Et si tu n'existais pas, Salut ....
Tellement bu tellement fumé
Joe Dassin Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Je crois bien qu’ils étaient bruns, je parie qu’ils étaient bleus
Je me rappelle seulement que je l’ai aimée
Tellement bu, tellement fumé
Dans ma mémoire brouillard, je ne retrouve plus son prénom
Dans mes idées fumée je fais à peine son brouillon
Je ne sais plus ce qu’elle disait sauf que j’y ai cru
L’oubli ça tient à quoi ?
Des glaçons dans un verre
Un halo de tabac
Dansant dans la lumière
Ca tient à rien du tout, l’oubli
C’est comme la vie
Je revois vaguement un studio mal meublé
Mais qui pourrait me dire la couleur du papier ?
Y avait sûrement un lit puisqu’on s’est aimé
Tellement bu, tellement fumé
L’oubli ça tient à qui ?
Une inconnue qui passe
Qui s’égare une nuit
Au fond de mon impasse
L’oubli, ça tient à rien du tout
Mais pas à nous
Une fugue en Normandie pour arroser le beau temps
Un retour à Paris, je ne sais plus trop comment
Sauf la vague impression que c’était foutu
Tellement fumé, tellement bu
Qu’est-ce que je suis con d’avoir déchiré sa photo
J’aimerais bien la revoir, j’ai plus son numéro
De toute façon, je ne sais plus téléphoner
Tellement bu, tellement fumé
The lyrics of Joe Dassin's song "Tellement bu, tellement fumé" convey a story of a hazy and intoxicated romantic encounter. The singer, recounting the memories of a past relationship, admits that they cannot even remember the color of their lover's eyes. They only vaguely recall that they were deeply in love, but the intensity of their drinking and smoking clouded their memories.
In the midst of their intoxicated state, the singer's mind becomes blurry, and they struggle to remember their lover's name and the details of their conversations. However, they confess that they believed in whatever was said, despite the foggy recollection. The lyrics express the idea that forgetfulness is a part of life, just like how the haze of smoking or the melting ice in a glass of drink can contribute to forgetting.
As the song progresses, the singer tries to recollect their moments together in a poorly furnished studio. They wonder about the color of the wallpaper and vaguely remember a bed where they made love. The lyrics suggest that their intoxication influenced their perception and understanding of the relationship.
The song also touches upon regret and the desire for closure. The singer admits their foolishness in tearing up a photo of their lover and expresses the wish to see them again, even though they no longer have their phone number. The repetition of "tellement fumé, tellement bu" emphasizes the intoxication and its impact on the memories and emotions associated with the past relationship.
Line by Line Meaning
Je ne me souviens même pas de la couleur de ses yeux
I can't even remember the color of her eyes
Je crois bien qu’ils étaient bruns, je parie qu’ils étaient bleus
I think they were brown, I would bet they were blue
Je me rappelle seulement que je l’ai aimée
I only remember that I loved her
Tellement bu, tellement fumé
So drunk, so high
Dans ma mémoire brouillard, je ne retrouve plus son prénom
In my hazy memory, I can't remember her name anymore
Dans mes idées fumée je fais à peine son brouillon
In my foggy thoughts, I barely sketch her
Je ne sais plus ce qu’elle disait sauf que j’y ai cru
I don't remember what she said except that I believed her
Tellement fumé, tellement bu
So high, so drunk
L’oubli ça tient à quoi ?
What does forgetting depend on?
Des glaçons dans un verre
Ice cubes in a glass
Un halo de tabac
A halo of tobacco
Dansant dans la lumière
Dancing in the light
Ca tient à rien du tout, l’oubli
Forgetting depends on nothing at all
C’est comme la vie
It's like life
Je revois vaguement un studio mal meublé
I vaguely see a poorly furnished studio
Mais qui pourrait me dire la couleur du papier ?
But who could tell me the color of the wallpaper?
Y avait sûrement un lit puisqu’on s’est aimé
There was surely a bed since we loved each other
Tellement bu, tellement fumé
So drunk, so high
L’oubli ça tient à qui ?
Who does forgetting depend on?
Une inconnue qui passe
A passing stranger
Qui s’égare une nuit
Who gets lost one night
Au fond de mon impasse
In the depths of my dead end
L’oubli, ça tient à rien du tout
Forgetting depends on nothing at all
Mais pas à nous
But not on us
Une fugue en Normandie pour arroser le beau temps
A runaway to Normandy to celebrate the good weather
Un retour à Paris, je ne sais plus trop comment
A return to Paris, I can't quite remember how
Sauf la vague impression que c’était foutu
Except for the vague impression that it was over
Tellement fumé, tellement bu
So high, so drunk
Qu’est-ce que je suis con d’avoir déchiré sa photo
How stupid of me to have torn her photo
J’aimerais bien la revoir, j’ai plus son numéro
I would love to see her again, I don't have her number anymore
De toute façon, je ne sais plus téléphoner
Anyway, I don't know how to make phone calls anymore
Tellement bu, tellement fumé
So drunk, so high
Lyrics © MUSIC 18
Written by: Joe DASSIN, Pierre DELANOE, Claude LEMESLE
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind