Serge Gainsbourg
Comic Strip

THE REVIEW

Checking the DeBaser database: many, too many of Gainsbourg's albums are missing, but at least those four famous compilations by Mercury from 1996 should be there, surely. After the Latin and jazz compilations, it's time to talk about the pop one (maybe I'll also talk about the "sexé" one, or someone better than me will).

Oui, alors. As I think it's well known, Serge Gainsbourg, known as Gainsbarre, is the most prolific musician of the 20th century: he released about twenty albums, nearly thirty soundtracks, multiple compilations, and countless singles and collaborations with his friends, but above all with his lady friends, partners, lovers, relatives, acquaintances, and so on. He left us an extraordinary body of work, comparable to the quantity of works the classical musicians left us, and comparable today, perhaps (perhaps) only with the complete works of the very prolific Pizzicato Five, who have many connections with Gainsbarre. From this infinite amount of music, as I said, Mercury decided in 1996 (on the fifth anniversary of the artist’s death) to reissue the best of this chansonnier. This was certainly not an easy task: even by dividing the four collections by themes (those mentioned above), unfortunately, many milestones were lost, and the result might not be pleasing to the most loyal fans; nevertheless, they are an excellent springboard to start a serious exploration of this artist.

Comic Strip, in particular, could be the perfect album to start delving into the world of Gainsbarre. It contains 20 absolutely extraordinary songs (including the must-have album Initials B.B.): all written between 1966 and 1968, these tracks are the quintessence of life, mood, music, and the very idea of France that circulated around the ville lumière, Paris. Gainsbourg, whom the French themselves remember almost more as a poet than as a musician, talked about everything: like a good chansonnière, he dealt with feelings (Un poison violent, c'est ça l'amour), but he also covered youthful languages (Comic Strip), American fascination (Ford Mustang, masterpiece), fashion (Qui est "in" qui est "out"), and, of course and predominantly, sex (totally ingenious right from the title is 69 année érotique). SEX. Considering the amount of songs Gainsbourg wrote about it (starting with the famous Je t'aime... moi non plus), it might seem he thought of nothing else... and it's quite likely, but it's also true that these are of supreme, unsurpassable, sublime quality, they are perfect. Yes, Gainsbourg was a genius and his songs are as formally perfect yesterday as they are today: the words are chosen with a manic care, and besides their semantic meaning, they form wonderful plays of alliterations and consonances from a semiotic standpoint (and not knowing French is almost better here, as it allows one to appreciate the sound of the words even better than a native); the music is of an originality and an avant-garde nature that at the time could only be boasted by the Beatles and maybe a few others; the arrangement is crafted in a way that will likely never be appreciated again, and it's probably the most important legacy Gainsbourg has left us: always marvelous horns, strings that are never intrusive and usually in counterpoint (even!), soothing keyboards and a sharp rhythm section, and above all, minimalist flashes of guitar and brilliant bass lines that are part of humanity's intangible heritage or at least of musicians (I lack words, for example, to comment on the simple and perfect scales of Bonnie and Clyde, en duo avec le diable en personne Brigitte Bardot). Back to what I was saying: it's true that Gainsbourg, having created hundreds of tracks, might have made some missteps, but even his worst song is still masterful for how it's formally rendered. Bloody Jack, for instance, is perhaps the weakest song in this collection, yet it is still exemplary for the undulating rhythm of the words and musical harmony.

 As for the legacy Gainsbourg left to his successors, this album certainly does not sufficiently satisfy the enormous volume of innovations this musician has passed down to the present day... but it's not difficult to realize: let's take any French album released in the last 40 years (including electronic music), and we will certainly find references to Gainsbarre. The Air and his daughter Charlotte are always named as continuers of Serge's genius, but actually, the whole of France continues (as best it can) Serge’s genius, because he WAS France, and he still is. And not only France: Un poison violent, c'est ça l'amour couldn't it perhaps sound like a track by the White Stripes? And Requiem pour un c... wouldn't it fit perfectly in Blur’s discography? Gainsbourg is not particularly famous beyond the borders north of the Channel, south of the Pyrenees, west of the ocean, and east of the Alps and the Benelux, but in fact, directly or indirectly, he has influenced many contemporary musicians. I mentioned the Pizzicato Five earlier: they have been among the most refined interpreters of Gainsbourg, perhaps the most refined of all, picking up his tones and transferring them verbatim into Japanese, just with a bit more wasabi and soy sauce; their Tokyo Mon Amour, par exemple, is exactly 69 année érotique slightly brightened up and performed not by Serge Gainsbourg & Jane Birkin, but by Yasuharu Konishi & Maki Nomiya.

The purpose of this splendid collection, therefore, is not to provide a complete vision of Serge Gainsbourg's musical thought (an impossible feat), but to make those who didn't know aware that music, without him, would be a bit different today. Quite a bit different.