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Merci, Jacques!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

 I took a gig recently in a house orchestra (a keyboard player and me) for the musical "Jacques Brel Is Alive And Well And Living In Paris".

Those familiar with Brels' work know his style of "over the top" French cabaret music. Edith Piaf  loved him and you will find her on Youtube singing "If You Go Away" (Ne Me Quitte Pas)  which is actually translated "Please Don't Leave Me".

Known as "The Little Sparrow", Piaf represented, to some, 'Old Paris' or nostalgia. She sang such classics as "No Regrets" and "La Vie En Rose" with a delicate trace of faded flowers and unfulfilled love.

Brel, who's songs have been covered by Rod McKuen,(with whom he cultivated a great friendship), Nana Mouskouri, Nina Simone, Frank Sinatra, The Kingston Trio and, well why not, Blink 182, and reflects the emotional side of life. 

Their work tends to bleed into each others wounds with great intensity and some find this music not their cup of cafe.

As a performer, I enjoy that which enables me to show emotion. I think a song is enhanced by the fierceness with which it is written and, through the singer, how it is projected.

But, Brel notwithstanding, some of his songs are a little over the top. I mention this with the knowledge that  interpretation, at times, has been abysmal.

The majority of his work was translated into English by Mort Shuman and Eric Blau and simply put, they do not do justice to this Flemish born composer. 

Shuman, who died in 1991 at the age of 54,  was a great admirer of Brel. He is a member of the "Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame" and an alumni of the Brill Building gang.  He gave us such songs as, "Teenager In Love", Turn Me Loose", "This Magic Moment" and, yes, the erstwhile hit for Viagra -  "Viva Las Vegas".

However, much of Brels' work is a punch in the gut to some. Songs such as "Next" about a young man's journey through his first affair in a "mobile whorehouse, gift of the Army, free of cost" is chilling and sticks to your soul long after it is sung.

"Fannette", about loves' trust shattered is deeply felt and terribly sad. Those who have suffered rejection and betrayal can relate to the story through the eyes of a man caught in the web of a lovers lies.

"Funeral Tango" is rife with sarcasm and bitterness. From a corpses view, what else would you expect?

Altogether this show captures the heart felt thoughts and muttered madness we all go through from time to time.

The problem?

Well,  the problem is purely technical..

Much of the material is written in the key of D or Cmaj and is fairly simple to play on the guitar. In fact, some of the songs cry for a guitar. 

The performers cry for something else, however.  Some other key they can sing in more comfortably.  So the changes come. Fortunately, the keyboard player simply has to push a button on his electric piano and voila, the key she is chang-ed!

Frankly, the keyboard player is the music director for the show. He is a consummate musician and very professional. I'm sure he could transpose without resorting to electronic gimmickry, if necessary. 

Not so with the guitar. Suddenly, a man with no formal training in music and armed only with a Washburn acoustic-electric, a tiny book entitled, "How To Read Music" and a computer, must first transcribe from one key to that other key.

Ok. Thank you computer and book.

And.

Oh crud!

Now the song must be played in a sharp or flatted key.

No problem.  I whip out my handy dandy capo.

And.

Oh crud! (Again.)

I still have a huge amount of flatted and sharp chords to fumble with. 

Why is this, you may well ask? Didn't you find an easy position to play in? For example, one song calls for the key of Bbm. No prob. I slip the capo up one fret. Clamp it. And play an Am chord. Simple. But then half way down the first page of music, Brel decided to modulate to another key. And then. 3/4 of the way through, he modulates again.

What was with this guy!

I look at the other songs. The ones I don't play. No modulation. No complex chords.

It's at this point I realize Brel has done me a great favor. He has forced this man of mature years to learn something new. To acquire and re-learn lessons in musical composition and playing.

It's a long crooked trail we travel. I guess it's nice to be able to crawl over the obstacles and move on.

The show goes up this Friday.

I think I'll break a leg.

© 2010 George Locke 

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It was 1960 and I was fresh out of high school. I had left rock and roll behind for a while after Dave Guard and the Kingston Trio crept up to whack me with a "Tom Dooley"-stick in 1957. Then came "The Brothers Four", "The Highway Men" and "The New Christie ." and I was hooked. I joined the Army because Uncle Sam promised he would send me to Public Information School to learn journalism, photography and a smattering of radio broadcasting. Hootenany was in the air. I followed my favorites, including the heart-breaking clear voice of Joan Baez to Korea while I wrote for "The Cavalier" and "The Stars and Stripe". I was a correspondent and photographer. Then it was on to New Mexico where I found "Peter, Paul and Mary", early" Bob Dylan" and some scratchy "Jimmy Rodgers"('The Singing Brakeman'). I bought my first guitar while I was producing radio programs for "White Sands Missile Range" and learned a few chords. I recorded a few live concerts, using purloined equipment in Coffee houses through the Southwest. Places like "The Don Quixote" in El Paso, Texas. And I listened to performers, gaining knowledge along the way. When I got out, the 60's and ?'s came hurtling at me, dressed with songs from new writers and performers. I went to broadcasting and drama school for a season in Boston and began to listen to the likes of Dylan, Tom Rush, Dave Van Ronk, Donovan, Mark Spoelstra, Patrick Skye, Jim Kweskin and Phil Ochs. I traded my $30 red and black Stella for a Gibson and began haunting places like the "Unicorn" plus "Club 47" in Cambridge and numerous clubs in New Hampshire. Then a group called "The Beatles" changed my view on everything. I became lead singer and rhythm guitarist in a band called, "The Notables". I bought a more expensive Gibson and an electric 12 string. We did 'Stone's' covers and 'Lovin' Spoonful'. I plunged into James Brown. A 22 year old white kid doing James Brown. I was nothing if not audacious. I went into commercial radio in a small market station back in NH. I wrote news, sports, rip and read weather off the teletype and interviewed everyone from William Shatner to Eugene McCarthy.and George Gobel. I got another twelve string. I got married. I acquired 4 children, and lost everything in the war. And I stopped playing for awhile. Then I met my passion. The love of my life. We married. We produced 5 children together. I was writing in earnest, after I began a spriritual journey. I started telling stories. Childrens tales, Anansi, Coyote and all the worlds mythical characters were part of a woven tapestry I still am adding to today. A friend gave me a Martin D35. Another gave me a Yamaha acoustic/electric 12 string. A few months back I sort of 'retired'. That's another way of saying I was let go. It was then I received my 'Dana Fligg' long neck banjo and am now writing for a local literary mag. I sold the Martin. I bought a Washburn acoustic/electric. My wife gave me a fire-engine red solid body Epiphone electric. I have five beautiful grandchildren. There is much more to say and much more to sing about, but I am glad to have found this place.

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