Born in Paris, Kristo Numpuby was however brought up in Eséka (the tropical… Read Full Bio ↴Born in Paris, Kristo Numpuby was however brought up in Eséka (the tropical forest of Cameroon). This is where he discovered a very particular rhythm: assiko. Although he was immersed in a kaleidoscopic musical environment, it was Assiko that really caught his imagination. Assiko is a guitar plucked in a very distinctive way with a rhythm drummed out by knives on an empty bottle. An acquired taste with very particular techniques that, like the blues, represent a way of living rhythm.

When he moved back to Paris in 1986, he started working on material that led to two albums : Assiko City and An Sol Mè. These were followed by tours during which he built up a loyal following. This is due to the fact that Numpuby is also very much a live performer of many talents, alternating between jokes, grimaces and using his cheeks to imitate the sound of a balafon. Although largely based on Assiko, his compositions also feature finely patterned traditional African music, Afro-American folk, blues, jazz and Brazilian and Cuban accents.

Kristo recently recorded with drummer Denis Tchangou (Mory Kante, Papa Wemba ...) an album entirely devoted to the chanson legend Georges Brassens. The result is “Brassens in Africa”, an album that illustrates the beauty of cultural crossovers but also a warm tribute to the French poet on African rhythms.

Le Fossoyeur
Kristo Numpuby Lyrics

Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴

Dieu sait qu'je n'ai pas le fond méchant
Je ne souhait' jamais la mort des gens
Mais si l'on ne mourait plus
J'crèv'rais de faim sur mon talus

J'suis un pauvre fossoyeur

Les vivants croient qu'je n'ai pas d'remords

A gagner mon pain sur l'dos des morts
Mais ça m'tracasse et d'ailleurs
J'les enterre à contrecœur

J'suis un pauvre fossoyeur

Et plus j'lâch' la bride à mon émoi
Et plus les copains s'amus'nt de moi
Y m'dis'nt: " Mon vieux, par moments
T'as un' figur' d'enterr'ment"

J'suis un pauvre fossoyeur

J'ai beau m'dir' que rien n'est éternel
J'peux pas trouver ça tout naturel
Et jamais je ne parviens
A prendr' la mort comme ell' vient

J'suis un pauvre fossoyeur

Ni vu ni connu, brav' mort adieu !
Si du fond d'la terre on voit l'Bon Dieu
Dis-lui l'mal que m'a coûté
La dernière pelletée

J'suis un pauvre fossoyeur

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Kristo Numpuby's "Le Fossoyeur" tell the story of a gravedigger who is tormented by the fact that he earns his living from the dead. The song opens with the singer declaring that he is not a bad person and that he does not wish death upon anyone. However, he acknowledges that if people stopped dying, he would starve to death on his own hill. This opening verse conveys the desperation of the singer's situation.

The chorus of the song repeats the phrase "J'suis un pauvre fossoyeur" (I'm a poor gravedigger) and highlights how misunderstood the singer is by the living. While they believe that he has no remorse for his job, in reality, he struggles to bury the dead with a heavy heart. This sense of internal conflict pervades the entire song, as the singer grapples with the morality of his chosen profession.

As the song continues, the singer's frustration and sorrow deepen. He notes that the more he expresses his emotions, the more his friends tease him for looking like a funeral procession. Finally, he ends the song by bidding farewell to the dead, apologizing to them for the trouble they caused him, and expressing his fear and uncertainty about death.

Overall, "Le Fossoyeur" is a poignant and thought-provoking song that explores the complex relationship between life and death.

Line by Line Meaning

Dieu sait qu'je n'ai pas le fond méchant
I am not an evil person, God knows.

Je ne souhait' jamais la mort des gens
I never wish death upon people.

Mais si l'on ne mourait plus
But if people stopped dying,

J'crèv'rais de faim sur mon talus
I would starve on my own hillside.

Les vivants croient qu'je n'ai pas d'remords
The living think I have no remorse,

A gagner mon pain sur l'dos des morts
As I earn my living on the backs of the dead,

Mais ça m'tracasse et d'ailleurs
But it bothers me and so,

J'les enterre à contrecœur
I bury them reluctantly.

Et plus j'lâch' la bride à mon émoi
The more I let loose my emotions,

Et plus les copains s'amus'nt de moi
The more my friends make fun of me,