Tels Alain Bashung

A gentle album for tough times

Paris 

29/04/2011 - 

Rarely has a tribute album aroused such interest. Tels Alain Bashung looks back in an ethereal way at Bashung’s repertoire from the 90s and brings together some of the singer’s most beautiful songs; Bashung died two years ago. The line-up in this little collection of remakes is amongst others, M, Vanessa Paradis, Miossec… and Noir Désir, who have released their latest song on the album.

Night in White Satin, Les mots bleus, Bruxelles. Alain Bashung chose remakes for his own albums with deliberate meanings in mind. An album of Bashung remakes has been expected and is also expected to ask innumerable questions. Is it possible in forty-five minutes to summarise a career path that was in a state of constant evolution? In what way can Bashung’s carefully thought out music be owned? These copied and pasted

Barclay Records, who initiated Tels Alain Bashung, answer all these questions with twelve songs which mainly cover the 90s, and describe a searching and ethereal singer. Put together, the songs trace a coherent development. Close friends, artists who worked with Bashung or his contemporaries, singers from his “generation” (Gaëtan Roussel, Benjamin Biolay, Mathias Malzieu of Dionysos…) creep into Boris Bergman and Jean Fauque’s lyrics; Bashung kneaded and mixed together their words along with those from many other obscure authors, to create his own particular style.

Noir Désir’s remake of Aucun Express is the noteworthy event of this album. Even more so as it was the last song recorded by the group before they separated. Infused with American influences, the song holds the impossible promise of the group’s return; it’s one of the gentle moments of this album. For the rest: With the notable exception of Alcaline, a quasi-literal remake by Christophe, the album pays tribute to Bashung when the artists move away from the original versions to uncharted territory. This includes Keren Ann, who sings Je Fume pour oublier que tu bois as an amazing 80s hit, in the same vein as Visage’s Fade to Grey.

Difficult moments? There are few on this album. Except for the very end, with an Apiculteur [beekeeper – ed’s note] stung by an uninspired Raphael. It would have been preferable to listen to a remake of La nuit, je mens by the talented group, Mustang. Unfortunately, it’s the bonus on the digital version of this album – an album of controlled foolishness and imaginative collages.

Compilation Tels Alain Bashung (Barclay) 2011

Marc Besse, Alain Bashung’s biographer, followed the singer in Barclay Records’ wake over a long period. Previously a journalist with Inrockuptibles and author of Bashung(s): une vie, gives RFI Music his insight into the album Tels Alain Bashung and takes another look at the origins of Bashung’s texts.

RFI Music: Which Alain Bashung does Tels describe? If we believe the songs that were chosen, it’s Bashung from the 90s who’s walking in the footsteps of the rocker from Gaby Oh! Gaby…
Marc Besse: I don’t have the impression that this album describes a particular kind of Bashung, because there’s a distant connection that floats almost equally from the beginning of the album until its end. It’s as if the artists tackled the remake by reclaiming Bashung and integrating his demands and his style. When Gaëtan Roussel does J’passe pour une caravane, he removes all the country music references; he gives this piece European roots and he truly owns it. Alain often said: “Remaking good songs is a way for them to live longer.”

Aucun Express was the last song recorded by Noir Désir before they broke up and as such has been long awaited. In addition, this song plays a particular role in the album’s overall conception.
When the record company started the Tels project, Noir Désir was recording. The group practised the acoustics amongst themselves; there was an entente cordiale. Their songs progressed very well, except for the lyrics, and Noir Désir gave a reply right away. While the group can take an incredibly long time to do things, this project was completed in three days and three live takes in the Frette studio near Paris. Aucun Express was the departure point for all the work that followed.

Song writers played an important role in Alain Bashung’s career. How did he work with them?
Those who were there before the final cocktail party weren’t necessarily the people who prepared it. For example, Je fume pour oublier que tu bois is by Boris Bergman, but we often forget that it’s Daniel Tardieu’s shadow that hovers throughout the song. Daniel Tardieu was a very important person in Bashung’s development. Alain always had this strategy of having many song writers work on one album, just like his musical mixes. He was always someone who prepared things with lots of people. And once he separated from the preparation team, he arrived at his own conclusions which he then presented to Jean Fauque or Boris Bergman, partners in the final sets. There are many people who worked with Bashung who were never mentioned: Marcel Kanche, and at the end of Bashung’s life, Miossec, Dominique A. It was a terrible way of working because one was almost asking people not to give a damn about a text’s authorship. At the same time, it was a way that Bashung had of saying: “I like being part of a world in which I feel good. If there are ego problems, I’m not interested in them.”

Jacques Brel, Georges Brassens, Serge Gainsbourg. All the big names were forgotten for a time just after their deaths and not Alain Bashung. It’s surprising, isn’t it?
It is, but Bashung is special: there’s a whole generation of artists who collaborated with Alain or were his contemporaries, who wanted to send him something. I think it’s  a very beautiful way of mourning.

Bashung(s): une vie by Marc Besse (Edition Albin Michel) 2009

Bastien  Brun

Translation : Julie  McKay Gallet