His father was a UNESCO employee and his mother is from Guadeloupe. Many of the chansons he sings were written by Étienne Roda-Gil, a long time collaborator. His brother, Gérard Leclerc, is a political commentator on France 2.
For a time he was involved with French actress Miou-Miou, who in 1978 bore him a daughter, Jeanne Herry. Like her father, Jeanne has pursued a career in show business, albeit as an actress and comedian rather than as a singer.
Julien Clerc owes his fame in France to his leading role in the 1969 French language adaptation of the musical Hair. Since then he has sung a great many popular songs, and is generally considered one of the greatest francophone musicians of his generation. In 2003, he was appointed as a Goodwill Ambassador for the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees after transferring the rights to his hugely popular song, Partir, to the UN.
Foutu
Julien Clerc Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
T'es là, tu dors
Sur papier glacé
Foutu, je suis photo sensible
C'est moi la cible
Sur papier séché
Photo qui m'a pris mon âme
Cliché douleur de nos drames
Tout flou de nous deux, épreuve qui me blesse
Photos que tu jettes au vent
Et tous ces petits bouts de papier
C'est mon coeur éparpillé
Qui s'envole tout là-haut
Tirer ton portrait robot
Amour fatal, je suis foutu, photo
Foutu, je suis photo, je suis mort
C'est moi qui dort
Sur papier glacé
Foutu, t'as pris de la patine
Une drôle de mine de papier mâché
Photos de nos premiers déclics
Tes fous rires et nos baisers volés
Chambre obscure, défaut d'optique
Fourre-tout d'un amour instantané
Photos que tu jettes au vent
Et tous ces petits bouts de papier
C'est mon coeur éparpillé
Qui s'envole tout là-haut
Tirer ton portrait robot
Amour fatal, je suis foutu, photo
Photos de nos premiers déclics
Tes fous rires et nos baisers volés
Chambre obscure, défaut d'optique
Fourre-tout d'un amour instantané
Photos que tu jettes au vent
Et tous ces petits bouts de papier
C'est mon coeur éparpillé
Qui s'envole tout là-haut
Pour dire bonjour aux oiseaux
Au petit oiseau de Robert Doisneau
Photos que tu jettes au vent
Et tous ces petits bouts de papier
C'est mon coeur éparpillé
Qui s'envole tout là-haut
Pour dire bonjour aux oiseaux
Au petit oiseau de Robert Doisneau
Photos que tu jettes au vent
Et tous ces petits bouts de papier
C'est mon coeur éparpillé
The lyrics to Julien Clerc's song Foutu are poetic and poignant, conveying a sense of loss and nostalgia. The song is about the power of photographs to capture moments in time, both joyful and painful, and how they can haunt us long after the people and events they depict have faded away. The singer in the song is addressing someone else, someone who has taken photos of him and others, and he is wrestling with the emotions these photos evoke in him.
The first verse sets the tone for the song, with the singer addressing someone else who has taken photos of him. He calls the person "foutue," which means "damned" or "cursed," suggesting that the photos have trapped him somehow. He then refers to himself as "photo sensible," or "sensitive photo," indicating that he is deeply affected by the images taken of him. The phrase "cliché douleur de nos drames" is particularly powerful, meaning "painful cliché of our dramas." The singer seems to be suggesting that the photos have captured moments of heartache and trauma and that they continue to cause him pain.
The second half of the song repeats the same themes, with the singer reminiscing about happier times depicted in other photos taken by the same person. He refers to "premiers déclics," or "first clicks," suggesting that these are early memories and that the photos are from a long time ago. The repeated chorus, with its haunting refrain of "amour fatal, je suis foutu, photo" (fatal love, I am doomed, photo), reinforces the idea that the singer feels trapped by his memories and the photos that evoke them.
Overall, the song is a beautiful meditation on the power of photography to capture and preserve moments in time, both good and bad, and the emotional weight that these images can carry in our lives.
Line by Line Meaning
Foutu, t'es photo, t'es mort
You are trapped in a photo, lifeless and unchanging.
T'es là, tu dors
Sur papier glacé
You are here, but only in two dimensions, frozen in time.
Foutu, je suis photo sensible
C'est moi la cible
Sur papier séché
I am vulnerable to the power of photography, and now I am its subject, captured on dry paper.
Photo qui m'a pris mon âme
Fantôme qui t'a volé ta jeunesse
Cliché douleur de nos drames
Tout flou de nous deux, épreuve qui me blesse
Photography has stolen my soul, and you are now a mere ghost of your youthful self, captured in a painful, blurry image that hurts me deeply.
Photos que tu jettes au vent
Et tous ces petits bouts de papier
C'est mon coeur éparpillé
Qui s'envole tout là-haut
You throw away these photos, and with them go pieces of my heart, scattered and lost, soaring skyward.
Tirer ton portrait robot
Amour fatal, je suis foutu, photo
I try to capture your likeness, but it's no use - this fateful love has trapped me, and I am ruined by the power of photography.
Foutu, je suis photo, je suis mort
C'est moi qui dort
Sur papier glacé
I too am now a lifeless photo, sleeping on glossy paper.
Foutu, t'as pris de la patine
Une drôle de mine de papier mâché
Over time, you've aged and become weathered, taking on a strange, papier-mâché appearance.
Photos de nos premiers déclics
Tes fous rires et nos baisers volés
Chambre obscure, défaut d'optique
Fourre-tout d'un amour instantané
These are the photos of our first moments together, snapshots of stolen laughs and kisses, framed by the imperfect edges of the camera lens. They are a jumbled collection of our instant love.
Pour dire bonjour aux oiseaux
Au petit oiseau de Robert Doisneau
As my heart flies away, it greets the birds and recalls the small bird immortalized in Robert Doisneau's photography.
Contributed by Scarlett N. Suggest a correction in the comments below.