Scott Walker's version, which was the first track on his first solo album. Arranged by Angela Morley AKA Wally Stott.
Lyrics/paroles Ma mère, voici le temps venu D´aller prier pour mon salut Mathilde est revenue Bougnat, tu peux garder ton vin Ce soir je boirai mon chagrin Mathilde est revenue Toi la servante, toi la Maria Vaudrait p´t-être mieux changer nos draps Mathilde est revenue Mes amis, ne me laissez pas, non Ce soir je repars au combat Maudite Mathilde, puisque te v´là Mon cœur, mon cœur ne t´emballe pas Fais comme si tu ne savais pas Que la Mathilde est revenue Mon cœur, arrête de répéter Qu´elle est plus belle qu´avant l´été La Mathilde qui est revenue Mon cœur, arrête de bringuebaler Souviens-toi qu´elle t´a déchiré La Mathilde qui est revenue Mes amis, ne me laissez pas, non Dites-moi, dites-moi qu´il ne faut pas Maudite Mathilde puisque te v´là Et vous mes mains, restez tranquilles C´est un chien qui nous revient de la ville Mathilde est revenue Et vous mes mains, ne frappez pas Tout ça ne vous regarde pas Mathilde est revenue Et vous mes mains, ne tremblez plus Souvenez-vous quand j´vous pleurais d´ssus Mathilde est revenue Vous mes mains, ne vous ouvrez pas Vous mes bras, ne vous tendez pas Sacrée Mathilde puisque te v´là Ma mère, arrête tes prières Ton Jacques retourne en enfer Mathilde m´est revenue Bougnat, apporte-nous du vin Celui des noces et des festins Mathilde m´est revenue Toi la servante, toi la Maria Va tendre mon grand lit de draps Mathilde m´est revenue Amis, ne comptez plus sur moi Je crache au ciel encore une fois Ma belle Mathilde puisque te v´là, te v´là!
English paraphrase, with thanks to spondres Mother, the time has come To pray for my soul Mathilde's back. Landlord, you can keep your wine, Tonight I'll drink my misery Mathilde's back. You, maid Maria; Probably better change the sheets or something. Mathilde's back. Friends, keep hold of me, Tonight I'm spoiling for a fight. Accursed Mathilde, since you're there. Heart, don't race like that! Pretend you didn't know Mathilde's back. Heart, stop repeating That she's more beautiful than she was before summer. The Mathilde who's back Heart, stop palpitating! Remember how she tore you apart! The Mathilde who's back Friends, don't let me go, Tell me that it mustn't be! Accursed Mathilde, since you're there. And you, hands, stay calm. It's just a stray dog returning from the city. Mathilde's back. Hands, don't strike out, It's got nothing to do with you. Mathilde's back. And hands, stop shaking! Remember when I cried all over you? Mathilde's back! Hands, don't open! Arms, don't reach out! Damned Mathilde, since you're there! Mother! Stop your prayers! Your Jacques has gone back to Hell! Mathilde's come back to me! Landlord, bring us wine! The kind for weddings and feasts! Mathilde's come back to me! You, maid Maria! Make up the master bed! Mathilde's come back to me! Friends, don't count on me any more, I spit at the heavens one more time! My beautiful Mathilde, since you're there! You're there!
Mathilde A gosh-darned masterpiece. Such passion, such emotion, such drama! Such a clever turn-around in the final verse. And the total musical explosion of that final verse is peak 'Team Brel'. As with Madeleine, much of the musical beauty is not in the lead vocal line but in the counter-melodies provided by the instruments. Brilliant work from Jouannest. Its songs like this that make me put their writing partnership up there with the great writing duos. My guess is that Mathilde is just a normal person, no more, no less, and that the narrator is being excessively dramatic, but it makes for great entertainment. 5/5
Another masterpiece, some dark humor. I love the instruments of this version (the first one posted) and the vocal melody strikes me as perfect for the subject matter of this comically horrible relationship. 5/5
General thread guide First two albums and associated tracks (1953-57) Third and fourth albums and associated tracks (1957-59) Fifth and sixth albums and associated tracks (1960-1962) Seventh album and associated tracks (1962-1963) Brel associates and Brel "bingo cards" Selected index of some of the more famous songs: Au printemps Les biches Les bigotes Les bourgeois (The Middle Class) La bourrée du célibataire (Bachelor's Dance) Bruxelles (Brussels) La Fanette Les Flamandes (Marathon) Une île Je ne sais pas Madeleine Marieke Mathilde Le moribond (Seasons in the Sun) La mort (My Death) Ne me quitte pas (If You Go Away) On n’oublie rien Les paumés du petit matin Le plat pays Les prénoms de Paris Le prochain amour Quand on n'a que l'amour (If We Only Have Love) Rosa La statue Les toros (The Bulls) La valse à mille temps (Carousel) Les vieux (Old Folks) Ongoing spotify playlist of highest-rated songs
Mathilde A kind of anti-love song. Brel sells his soul for this woman who he can't resist. But it's a good pretext for spitting at heaven. Going to hell with abandon. 5/5 Some great words in here. Bougnat and bringuebaler for example.
Our average score for "Mathilde" was 4.8 Today's song is Le tango funèbre (The Funeral Tango) Words by Jacques Brel Music by Gérard Jouannest Arranged by François Rauber Recorded on the 7th March 1964 at the Barclay-Hoche studios, Paris with François Rauber and his orchestra Appeared on the "Mathilde" EP, the 1964 10" album ("Mathilde") and the 1966 12" album ("Ces gens-là")
Lyrics/paroles Ah! Je les vois déjà Me couvrant de baisers Et s'arrachant mes mains Et demandant tout bas Est-ce que la mort s'en vient Est-ce que la mort s'en va Est-ce qu'il est encore chaud Est-ce qu'il est déjà froid Ils ouvrent mes armoires Ils tâtent mes faïences Ils fouillent mes tiroirs Se régalant d'avance De mes lettres d'amour Enrubannées par deux Qu'ils liront près du feu En riant aux éclats Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Je les vois déjà Compassés et frileux Suivant comme des artistes Mon costume de bois Ils se poussent du cœur Pour être le plus triste Ils se poussent du bras Pour être le premier Z'ont amené des vieilles Qui ne me connaissaient plus Z'ont amené des enfants Qui ne me connaissaient pas Pensent aux prix des fleurs Et trouvent indécent De ne pas mourir au printemps Quand on aime le lilas Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Je les vois déjà Tous mes chers faux amis Souriant sous le poids Du devoir accompli Ah, je te vois déjà Trop triste trop à l'aise Protégeant sous le drap Tes larmes lyonnaises Tu ne sais même pas Sortant de mon cimetière Que tu entres en ton enfer Quand s'accroche à ton bras Le bras de ton quelconque Le bras de ton dernier Qui te fera pleurer Bien autrement que moi Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Je me vois déjà M'installant à jamais Bien triste bien au froid Dans mon champ d'osselets Ah je me vois déjà Je me vois tout au bout De ce voyage-là D'où l'on revient de tout Je vois déjà tout ça Et on a le brave culot D'oser me demander De ne plus boire que de l'eau De ne plus trousser les filles De mettre de l'argent de côté D'aimer le filet de maquereau Et de crier vive le roi Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!
English paraphrase, with thanks to spondres Ah! I see them already, Covering me with kisses, Pulling at my hands And asking quietly “Has death come? Has death already gone? Is he still warm? Is he already cold?” They're opening my chests, They're touching my chinaware, They're rooting through my drawers, Taking pleasure in advance Of my love letters, In pairs tied up with ribbons, That they'll read beside the fire, While laughing their heads off. Ha ha ha! Ah! I see them already, Strait-laced and timidly Following like actors Behind my wooden costume. They push with their hearts To be the most sad, They push with their elbows To be the first in line. They brought the old women Who didn't know me anymore They brought the children Who didn't know me, full stop Thinking of the price of flowers, And considering it inconsiderate To not have died in Spring When lilacs are cheap. Ha ha ha! Ah, I see them already, All my false friends, Smiling at a job well done. I see you already, Too sad, too at ease, Keeping under your veil Your crocodile tears. You don't even know, Leaving my graveyard, That you're entering your own hell When you take the arm Of your A. N. Other Of your latest one Who'll make you cry In quite a different way from me. Ha ha ha. Ah, I see myself already, Settling into eternity, Very sad, very cold In my field of little bones. I see myself on that long voyage Where one returns from everything. I see all of that, And can you believe That they have the nerve To ask me to only drink water, Stop chasing girls, Put money aside, Enjoy mackerel filet, And sing “Long Live the King”! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Le tango funèbre I had to go back and listen to this one again. Because I don't want to look like the guy that indiscriminately hands out 5s to everything, and I don't see this on the same level as "Mathilde", for example. On the other hand, I've always really liked this. It was one of the songs on "Ces gens-là", the Brel album my parents had, that I found instantly accessible, so it's one of the five songs on that album/collection that are my earliest Brel memories. This morning I tried to ignore the vocal and just listen to the arrangement beneath. As usual, it's staggering. I particularly enjoy the first few seconds. Then the last verse is very strong too, and that verse is also my favourite part of the lyric, where we realise there's more of a point to the song than a list of grumbles. Despite his bravado, Brel is geniunely afraid of death and being left in his field of little bones. And there's a humorous payoff to boot. Oblivion is all that's in store for us, and we've not supposed to get our kicks while we can? Sorry to be a bore, but 5/5
Le tango funèbre Highly memorable vocal delivery and melody, excellent orchestral arrangement and wordsmithery. The words are refreshingly cheery and light-hearted, though Brel lands plenty of punches. This is a bit of a sister song to Le Moribond, but how far into the future is the narrator character looking? I'm not sure if it's a prequel or a sequel, but the medical advice to cut down on alcohol suggests the former. 4.5/5
Le tango funèbre No-one does funerals like Brel. All that forced solemnity and jostling to inherit that turns the ceremony into a farce. But what makes it all real is the description of being alone in the tomb, settling into eternity as you so rightly put it. The absurdity of life come into sharp focus and nobody, be he a king or a lover, can expect any sympathy from Brel. 5/5 Some intriguing lines in this song. * protégeant sous le drap tes larmes lyonnaises We all think this means crocodile tears but the French expression is the same (les larmes de crocodile) and here Brel actually sings 'tears from Lyon'. Some say it's a dig at his girlfriend, Sylvie Rivet, who came from Lyon, but no one really knows. And 'le drap' is not a veil and since we're at a funeral it could well be the coffin drape or pall. So this woman appears to be hiding her dodgy tears in the pall, which could maybe mean she's over-acting. * Je me vois tout au bout de ce voyage-là d'où l'on revient de tout. We all think we understand this line too. The journey to death which no one comes back from - or something like that. But that's not what Brel actually says. Word for word he says 'I can see myself at the very end of that journey from where you come back from everything'. I can't exactly explain why, but I think he's saying he can see himself in a state where he finally perceives things very clearly. I am, of course, open to other suggestions.
Our average score for "Le tango funèbre" was 4.84 Today's song is Les bergers (The Shepherds) Words and music by Jacques Brel Arranged by François Rauber Recorded on the 7th January 1964 at the Barclay-Hoche studios, Paris with François Rauber and his orchestra Appeared on the "Mathilde" EP, the 1964 10" album ("Mathilde") and the 1966 12" album ("Ces gens-là").
Lyrics/paroles Parfois ils nous arrivent avec leur grand chapeau Et leur manteau de laine que suive leur troupeau Les bergers Ils montent du printemps quand s'allongent les jours Ou brûlés par l'été descendent vers les bourgs Les bergers Quand leurs bêtes s'arrêtent pour nous boire de l'eau Se mettent à danser à l'ombre d'un pipeau Les bergers Entre eux l'en est de vieux, entre eux l'en est de sages Qui appellent au puits tous les vieux du village Les bergers Ceux-là ont des histoires à nous faire telles peurs Que pour trois nuits au moins nous rêvons des frayeurs Des bergers Ils ont les mêmes rides et les mêmes compagnes Et les mêmes senteurs que leurs vieilles montagnes Les bergers Entre eux l'en est de jeunes, entre eux l'en est de beaux Qui appellent les filles à faire le gros dos Les bergers Ceux-là ont des sourires qu'on dirait une fleur Et des éclats de rire à faire jaillir de l'eau Les bergers Ceux-là ont des regards à vous brûler la peau À vous défiancer, à vous clouer le cœur Les bergers Mais tous ils nous bousculent, qu'on soit filles ou garçons Les garçons dans leurs rêves, les filles dans leurs frissons Les bergers Alors nous partageons le vin et le fromage Et nous croyons une heure faire partie du voyage Des bergers C'est un peu comme Noël, Noël et ses trésors Qui s'arrêteraient chez nous aux équinoxes d'or Les bergers Après ça ils s'en vont avec leur grand chapeaux Et leur manteau de laine que suive leur troupeau Les bergers Ils montent du printemps quand s'allongent les jours Ou brûlés par l'été descendent vers les bourgs Les bergers Quand leurs bêtes ont fini de nous boire notre eau Se remettent en route à l'ombre d'un pipeau Les bergers, les bergers, les bergers
English paraphrase, with thanks to spondres Sometimes they come to us with their big hats And their woollen coats which their flocks follow The shepherds They go up in the Spring when the days get longer Or burnt by the summer, coming down to the market towns The shepherds When their animals stop to drink our water Starting to dance under the protection of a pan-pipe The shepherds There are some old and wise men among them Who at the wells call all the old people of the village They have stories that make us so afraid So that we have dreams of terrors for at least three nights They have the same wrinkles and the same wives And the same scents as their old mountains There are some young and handsome men among them Who call the girls to arch their backs They have smiles that you'd call a flower And peals of laughter to make water gush forth Thy have looks that could burn your skin To make you break your engagement To nail down your heart But they upset us all, both boys and girls The boys in their dreams, the girls in their shivers Then we share the wine and cheese It's a little like Christmas and its treasures Which would stop in these parts at the spring equinox After that they go away with their big hats And their woollen coats which their flocks follow They go up in the Spring when the days get longer Or burnt by the summer, coming down to the towns When their animals have finished drinking our water Returning on their way under the protection of a pan-pipe The shepherds
Les bergers A less ambitious lyric here it would seem, than most of the ones we've seen lately. We're back to simply picking a subject matter and describing it. And we're back in a rural/smalltown setting. The vocal melody is very monotonous, with the instruments needing to do all the heavy melodic lifting, and they sure do. I don't usually like pan-pipes but quite like them here. A decent minor work. 4/5
Les bergers An entertaining vignette. It's as if shepherds are sailors of the mountains returning to their harbour for various mischievous shore-leave activities. Is it actually one or more piccolos providing the pan-pipe effects? I'm not sure. I couldn't find équinoxes d'or ("golden equinoxes") anywhere, but from the context, it must surely mean the spring equinox. Larousse also gives "under the protection of" in addition to "under the shadow of" as a translation for à l'ombre d'(un pipeau): Traduction : ombre - Dictionnaire français-anglais Larousse 4/5
