The group was founded in Paris during the 1980s. Originally, they played music heavily influenced by the punk movement and depended on electric instruments. Their third album featured Anne-Gaëlle, a classically trained cellist, and marked a turning point in the group’s music toward a more acoustic sound. The group’s later efforts misleadingly took shape of casual folk songs while actually using stunning musical arrangements, experimental soundscapes and poetic lyrics rife with very dark humor.
Listeners find the influence of classic French musicians like Jacques Brel, Georges Brassens and Les Négresses Vertes.
Les Papiers
Têtes Raides Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Le petit balayeur ne travaillerait plus
Au bord de ton veston
Les lèvres endormies
Il a une tête qui fume son clope
Et l'autre main qui nettoie la capitale
Posé sur ton talon
O mes doux caniveaux
Sur la terre qui dort
J'ai vingt ans j'ai trente ans ou peut-être cent ans
Dans un jour une fois plus tard mais qu'importe
On se retrouvera dans la même maison
Pour cueillir en rêvant nos papiers dans les rues
Le petit balayeur met sa belle tenue
Sur la blanche saison
Les feuilles étourdies
L'œil d'un matin gris dans l'égout qui clapote
Les regrets déversés de la capitale
Les cœurs dans les pochons
O mes lettres froissées
Mes amours d'aurore
Poussent les pigeons morts
J'ai cent ans dans mille ans ou peut-être entre temps
Entre tous les passants vers la même porte
Ton blason c'est toujours la gueule que tu portes
C'est pourquoi j'ai jeté mes papiers dans les rues
Ce matin de printemps il avait disparu
Dans un de ses ruisseaux
Il a pris son bateau
Va ranger tes balais les nouvelles ordures
Salue tous les copains de la balayure
The opening lyrics of the song “Les Papiers” suggest that if people stopped littering the streets, the street sweeper wouldn't have a job anymore. The song then goes on to describe the street sweeper himself, with a cigarette in his mouth and one hand keeping the capital city clean. The singer of the song seems to have an affection for the city's gutters, as they describe them as "my sweet gutters" and "my scents of dawn." The singer even claims to be a part of the gutters, saying, "I have twenty years, thirty years or maybe one hundred years, but what does it matter, we'll meet in the same house."
The second half of the song continues to explore the theme of the street sweeper and the city, but also brings in the idea of dreams and love. The singer describes the street sweeper, who now has a "beautiful outfit," collecting papers from the streets in the white season (perhaps winter), with leaves swirling around him and gray morning light reflecting in the sewer. The singer's thoughts then turn to their own desires for the papers in the gutters, which are described as "my crumpled letters" and "my loves of dawn." The song ends with the singer saying they've now thrown their papers in the street and the street sweeper has disappeared on his boat; "Go take care of your brooms, the new garbage. Greet all the friends of street sweeping."
One interpretation of the song could be that it's a reflection on the relationship between people and their environment, particularly in an urban area. The singer speaks affectionately of the city's dirt and litter, and romanticizes the job of the street sweeper, who puts a lot of effort into keeping the city clean. The song may also be addressing nostalgia for the past, as the singer seems to be reminiscing over items and moments lost in the city's gutters.
Line by Line Meaning
Si l'on ne jetait plus nos papiers dans les rues
If we stopped throwing our papers in the streets
Le petit balayeur ne travaillerait plus
The little sweeper wouldn't work anymore
Au bord de ton veston
On the edge of your jacket
Les lèvres endormies
Lips asleep
Il a une tête qui fume son clope
He has a head smoking his cigarette
Et l'autre main qui nettoie la capitale
And the other hand cleaning the capital
Posé sur ton talon
Resting on your heel
O mes doux caniveaux
Oh my sweet gutters
Mes senteurs d'aurore
My fragrances of dawn
Sur la terre qui dort
On the sleeping ground
J'ai vingt ans j'ai trente ans ou peut-être cent ans
I am twenty, thirty, or maybe one hundred years old
Dans un jour une fois plus tard mais qu'importe
In a day, once later, but it doesn't matter
On se retrouvera dans la même maison
We'll meet again in the same house
Pour cueillir en rêvant nos papiers dans les rues
To pick up our papers in the streets while dreaming
Le petit balayeur met sa belle tenue
The little sweeper puts on his beautiful outfit
Sur la blanche saison
On the white season
Les feuilles étourdies
The dizzy leaves
L'œil d'un matin gris dans l'égout qui clapote
The eye of a gray morning in the gurgling sewer
Les regrets déversés de la capitale
The regrets poured out of the capital
Les cœurs dans les pochons
Hearts in the pouches
O mes lettres froissées
Oh my crumpled letters
Mes amours d'aurore
My loves of dawn
Poussent les pigeons morts
Push the dead pigeons
J'ai cent ans dans mille ans ou peut-être entre temps
I am one hundred years old in a thousand years, or maybe in between
Entre tous les passants vers la même porte
Among all the passersby, towards the same door
Ton blason c'est toujours la gueule que tu portes
Your coat of arms is always the face you wear
C'est pourquoi j'ai jeté mes papiers dans les rues
That's why I threw my papers in the streets
Ce matin de printemps il avait disparu
This spring morning, it had disappeared
Dans un de ses ruisseaux
In one of its streams
Il a pris son bateau
He took his boat
Va ranger tes balais les nouvelles ordures
Go put away your brooms, the new garbage
Salue tous les copains de la balayure
Greetings to all the sweeper pals
Contributed by Liam E. Suggest a correction in the comments below.