I’m still learning a lot about Serge Gainsbourg. At a glance, it would appear there are two protagonists in this particular story; Gainsbourg, the son of Russian immigrants, a shy, awkward looking character who probably devoured pop, jazz and early American rock with a feverish appetite. Then there’s the scoundrel, Gainsbarre, a guy who told Whitney Houston, “I wanna *** you,” on live TV. He’s a ne’er-do-well, perhaps one of more repugnant stains on the face of the international pop music. But really, he’s just about the most contrived character the music world ever exposed. Sure, his image is slightly obscene, but it’s a calculated obscene, fashioned as much to move product as it is to give a hero the power to destroy any physical shortcoming and become the world’s ugliest Don Juan.
So, it’s kind of appropriate that this collection of tunes is called
Comic Strip (besides the fact that it’s named after one of the tracks.) The musician’s own story panels out like a provocatively graphic novel. We can get wrapped up in images and, as far as musical personas go, rarely are there ideas so pleasant to sauté our brains over like Gainsbourg-cum-Gainsbarre. But then there’s the music.
Comic Strip is collection of his work from the mid-to-late 60's, an era when Gainsbourg began to overhaul his sound, adding all sorts of worldly elements and the overarching lyricism that was remarkably forward and unconcerned with simple social conceptions like “modesty” and “prudence.”
For speakers of languages other than French (including your faithful reviewer,) there’s a certain wall that arises when listening music of a foreign language. With an artist like Gainsbourg, this wall can definitely be a hindrance to enjoyment, as much as problem as it would be for a non-English speaking person to embrace the work of someone like Bob Dylan. Lyrics are a large part of the fun but not the entire thing. Besides, lyrics aren’t everything; sometimes it’s the rhythm of the words that make a song, not necessarily the words themselves. And Gainsbourg delivers his lyrics like any great wordsmith who can barely sing a melody: carefully.
While certainly comparable to Dylan in terms of lyrical aspiration, Gainsbourg’s compositions are much more versatile than Dylan’s.
Comic Strip finds Gainsbourg rooted in a sort of pop classicism, a synthesis of Cabaret music, Booker T. and the MGs' unbridled funkiness and the impending rock and roll invasions coming north from across the channel, and from the west across the Atlantic.
But then there are rhythmic odysseys like the collection opener, “Requiem Pour un Con.” It’s a track wrought from an early style in Gainsbourg’s career inspired by Caribbean music, Afro-cuban beats in particular. It almost sounds like an old school DJ Premier beat, just the syncopated drums and a little guitar scrape interposed between verses. “Chatterton” is a personal favorite. It channels the aforementioned Stax in-house band, Booker T. and the MGs, down to the chicken-scratch guitars and funky organ.
Most of these tracks are pretty good. After all, it is a best-of collection. But the style hasn’t aged completely well and is definitely an acquired taste. Some songs sound great in any context; “L’ Anamour” is a lovely ballad that has Gainsbourg backed by a chorale of swooning female vocals. Most of the songs feature Gainsbourg juxtaposed against another vocalist, it’s basically his style. Usually, he’s working a call-response, back and forth angle with female vocalists, like on “Qui Est "In" Qui Est "Out",” which sounds like it could have been a slower, French version of some obscure,
Los Angeles-era X b-side with Ray Manzarek on the organ. “Comic Strip” is one of a couple Brigitte Bardot duets. This one sounds like a cross between a bordello show tune and an Alkaseltzer commercial.
The worst the collection has to offer makes for a tough sell. The 60's boogie of “Docteur Jekyll et Monsieur Hyde” sounds like dorky second-hand posturing, quite frankly. I'd hope there's something more going on in the lyrics. “Shu Ba du Ba Loo Ba” barely dodges a similar criticism, its saving grace being the song is just plain fun, a good listen for any fan of 50's rock and roll. “Bloody Jack” sounds corny to an extent, too. These may be rather empty criticisms (or at least I find them to be) but there’s a certain unforgivable goofiness about some of these lesser tracks. Truthfully, it just sounds like Gainsbourg trying find the perfect footing. Nothing that the best this collection has to offer doesn’t repair.
The more I listen to Gainsbourg, the more I am convinced that the guy was a pop genius. That’s probably no surprise to anyone who’s experienced his music extensively but for most, I would suppose that’s saying something. It’s not that he mastered anything in particular, although I would say he did; it’s just that he’s the prototypical pop character. “Pop genius” can mean a lot of things, after all, not even necessarily good, universally appealing things. And while his provocativeness is downplayed in the post-Prince, post-“skeet-skeet” world, there’s still something saucy about hearing Jane Birkin huffing and puffing, breathing hard, gasping, that makes you consider turning the volume down,
maybe just a little.
Comic Strip is a good collection for an era of Gainsbourg’s career, one where he was turning from jazz-pop towards rock and roll, wah and all. There are some real gems here, a couple stinkers. Quite likely, the style will be all or nothing for most listeners. I hate reviewing collections. Take a chance on a sleazeball.
