He spent a long part of his childhood in the café which his parents owned, where he learned work jargon and slang. At the age of 14 he signed up to the conservatoire de musique de Toulouse and to a dramatic arts institute. In the mean time, he set up his first band of 4 musicians in his own name, with whom he played at events throughout the region. In 1957, he was snapped up by Eddie Barclay who signed him on. It was in the studio of Barclay where he met his future wife, Simone Mazaltarim.
In 1958 Perret carried on touring round Parisian cabaret bars and crossed France and Africa as a part of the American group, The Platters. In Novemeber that year, a pleurisy forced him to take two years off in a sanatorium.
A master of the subtleties of the French language and French slang (he even rewrote some of Jean de La Fontaine's fables), his songs are often cheeky (for example Le zizi (The willy)) , asking questions in a seemingly naive child's tone, but has written more serious political songs, such as La bête est revenue, La petite kurde, Vert de Colère ou Lily.
Qui Veut Voyager Loin...
Pierre Perret Lyrics
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Pour etre folle de ton corps
A ce point, méchante enragée
Que je me trouve à bout d'accords ?
Oh ! La vilaine qui demande
Encore, encore sans répit,
Comme fait une enfant gourmande
D'où crois-tu que viennent ma force
Et ma vigueur pour ces combats ?
J'ai brûlé ma dernière amorce
A toujours donner branle-bas…
Mais toi de plus en plus sereine,
Par l'escarmouche mise en goût,
M'offrant ta croupe de sirène
Tu sembles direAlors, c'est tout ?
Déjà fatigué !... Je commence…
En route, en rut pour le record…
Allons, verse-moi ta semence
A flots pressé, j'en veux encor'… !
Mais pour le coup, je me récuse,
Je ne puis après dix assauts
Comme on verse du Syracuse
Répandre mon foutre à plein seaux…
Songe à chaque goutte qui tombe
Que de cadavres innocents
Je précipite dans la tombe…
Vois mes remords, chère et consens
Que j'interrompe la harangue
Où je succombe terrassé…
Vaut-il pas mieux avec ma langue
Finir ce que j'ai commencé ?
Quelle épice as-tu donc mangée
Pour etre folle de ton corps
A ce point méchante enragée
Que je me trouve à bout d'accords ?
The lyrics of Pierre Perret's song Qui Veut Voyager Loin... explore the theme of sexual desire and power dynamics within a relationship. The song depicts a conversation between two lovers where the female lover demands more from her partner, who is left exhausted by her insatiable appetite. The first verse of the song opens with a metaphor using the imagery of spices to describe the woman's sexual power, suggesting that she has something in her that has made her wild and unstoppable. The man is at his limit and unable to satisfy her demands. The woman is portrayed as being childish and persistent, demanding more despite her partner's exhaustion.
The second verse of the song shifts the power dynamic between the two, as the man asserts his own strength and prowess in relation to the woman's desires. He describes his own sexual appetite as something that gives him strength and energy but admits that he is no longer able to keep up with her demands. The woman, on the other hand, appears more calm and satisfied, pleased with the excitement that the man has provided her with.
The final verse of the song takes a surreal turn as the man begins to reflect on the consequences of his sexual encounters, imagining himself as a killer, burying the innocent victims of his sexual escapades. He struggles with guilt and is conflicted about whether to continue or stop, eventually concluding that he should finish what he started.
Overall, the song's lyrics explore the complexity of sexual desire and power dynamics within a relationship. It suggests that desire can be both empowering and destructive and that it can have real-world consequences that must be considered.
Line by Line Meaning
Quelle épice as-tu donc mangée
What spice have you eaten that has made you so obsessed with your body to the point where you are a vicious and enraged person, leaving me at a loss for words?
Oh ! La vilaine qui demande
Oh, you terrible woman who keeps asking for more, continuously and incessantly, like a greedy child with tears of disappointment.
D'où crois-tu que viennent ma force
Where do you think my strength and energy come from in these battles? I have used up every last bit of it, always giving everything I have got.
Mais toi de plus en plus sereine
But you, becoming increasingly calm, satisfied by the skirmish, offering yourself up like a mermaid, seem to be saying 'that's it?'
Déjà fatigué !... Je commence…
Already tired!...I’m setting off nonetheless, with the intention of breaking the record…
Allons, verse-moi ta semence
Come on, let me have your seed. I want it to flow out in torrents!
Mais pour le coup, je me récuse
But in this case, I’ll abstain. I cannot spill my seed like Syracuse after ten rounds of combat.
Songe à chaque goutte qui tombe
Think about every drop that falls. I am killing innocent souls with each ejaculation.
Vois mes remords, chère et consens
See my regrets, dear, and allow me to interrupt this speech where I feel like I am about to collapse.
Que j'interrompe la harangue
Allow me to cut the speech short, as I am about to fall down...
Où je succombe terrassé…
...summoned by exhaustion.
Vaut-il pas mieux avec ma langue
Wouldn’t it be better for me to finish what I started, with my tongue?
Finir ce que j'ai commencé ?
To finish what I have started?
Quelle épice as-tu donc mangée
What spice have you eaten that has made you so obsessed with your body to the point where you are a vicious and enraged person, leaving me at a loss for words?
A ce point méchante enragée
Leaving you so cruel and mad.
Que je me trouve à bout d'accords ?
Leaving me lost for words?
Lyrics © O/B/O APRA/AMCOS
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