Le Franco Phoney

Let me introduce you to Dave. Dave was born Wouter Otto Levenbach in the Netherlands, but has remained relatively unknown in his home country despite having a few chart hits in France. One of his first big hits in the 70s was Vavina, which you may recognise this clip to the left.

For those of you who don’t recall the song, including my French friend who until last week thought it was a Dave original, it’s actually a Frenchified (yes, I made that word up) version of “Runaway” by Del Shannon, recorded in the 60s (also to the left).

Okay, the 70s seemed to be the peak decade for musicians to switch song languages, with The Four Seasons’ “December 1963 (Oh What a Night)” being covered by Claude François as “Cette Année-Là” (“That Year Then”), while his song “Comme d’Habitude” is more famously known as the the translated-into-English “My Way”, sung, but not written, by Frank Sinatra, and good old Johnny Hallyday covered all sorts of songs including “Long Tall Sally” as “Oh! Sally” with French lyrics. The list goes on. Again, I promise to write about Claude François one day: his story is a good one.

So back to Dave. Good on him for taking a hit song from the US and turning his translation into a hit in France. But you may ask why on earth I’m bringing this up now. This is why:

Dave has done a cover of his cover. He’s really taking recycling to new levels. Apparently, it’s a surefire hit, with French TV and radio stations picking it up, and Dave starring as a panelist on France’s talent show “La France a un Incroyable Talent” (“France has an Incredible Talent”). So as we say in Australia, “good onya, Dave”: you’ve done well. And you haven’t aged badly either.

There’s a bar in Annecy which specialises in looking grungy. The toilet walls have been repainted so many times that they’re about an inch thicker and the bar’s walls are plastered with posters of rebellion, such as this Sex Pistols poster right by the stage.

I love venues like this. They have that feeling of being the real thing: they’re all about the music, as opposed to a nightclub with its designer lights, strategic colour scheme, doof-doof music and manicured people conforming to the dress code.

Meanwhile, stepping into this grungy bar in Annecy feels like being transported to a New York dive bar. Denim and beer are perfectly at home among the peeling paint and plastic cups. And yet this grungy bar is still innately French. Right next to the Sex Pistols poster is a sign saying that food, including the typically French croque monsieur, is available all the time.

So between all that rebellion and rock, head-banging gig-goers can take five minutes to dine on their favourite French snack. I imagine a French bloke with his Doc Martins and heavy silver necklace tucking into his croque monsieur with a serviette to wipe his hands on after and perhaps a little salad garnish. It’s the French way.

Musilac music festival was held last weekend in Aix-les-Bains, and the crowd had that lovely festival feeling.

The usual weirdness of a festival, such as this rubber chicken on a stick that was waved around near the front of the stages for most of the day, was present, along with a few other notable things. The view from anywhere was glorious, ranging from the lake and boats to jagged mountains and rolling green slopes. For a change, a music festival had some geographical ambiance — a nice change from the usual converted farming fields. I wasn’t expecting fireworks between the acts, nor the crowd’s reaction, as if it were the first time they’d seen fireworks. The applause after the fireworks was longer than for half the acts on the day! The acts, although limited in number, were generally fantastic, and yet the French influence endured through the night, with a guy called Philippe Katerine taking to the stage after Eels, PJ Harvey and Chemical Brothers.

A photo just wouldn’t justify the weirdness. He appeared in a Tudor-style dress and said in French: “I am the queen of England. F**k you!”

After a few dodgy numbers, he stripped down to miniskirt with bi-colour tights and sung along with his four female backing ‘vocalists’ known as “les Katrinettes” — a parody of an old famous French singer (Claude François, who I’ll talk about another time) who had backing singers called the “Claudinettes”. Bouncing boobs a requirement, they danced around and sang to songs including one entitled “Let me eat my banana”.
During that particular song, everything smelt of bananas. No, it wasn’t an artificial banana smell that filled the air: it was the real bananas being hurled towards the stage that were numerous enough to stink out the whole area. The singer stood on stage after the song, arms wide apart, inviting people to hit him with bananas. So many people had brought bananas with them! The (French part of the) crowd loved it.

If you’d like to see more photos from Musilac, Madamoiselle Caroline has plenty.

Last night, La Clusaz held its annual carnival, with groups dressed in 70s disco outfits, cops and prisoners, Star Wars characters, Cleopatras being carried by mummies, various superheros, and even a ladybird. The parade is held early so that kids, like the one pictured, can watch. A power ranger handed his sword over to this kid and motioned for the kid to attack him, which he did (had I remembered to charge the battery on my proper camera, this photo would have been clearer).

With plenty of kids around before 8pm, the DJ playing the loud party music in the centre of the gathering put on “Why Don’t We Just F**k” by Greg Parys. I know, I know, it’s an English word, but I can’t imagine many parents wanting their kids swearing in English or French or any other language. Some kids danced away to the song, while a boy of about twelve just next to me teased a group of local boys the same age by wearing a mask so they couldn’t tell who he was. How did he tease them? He rubbed his mask up and down with his hand. His mask was the head of a penis. He couldn’t have timed it better with the music, although the group of boys watching looked stunned despite their preference to look cool.

For all the entertainment provided, this kid was by far the most entertaining to watch. Eventually, one of the stunned boys walked towards him and ripped his mask off before the boy grabbed it back and ran away. The boys still looked stunned.

Like all public events in La Clusaz, the parade ended with fireworks, signalling bed time for the kids and pub time for the oddly-dressed adults. I suspect the stunned boys lingered outdoors, being too old for bed and too young for the pub, and probably watched the kid in the penis mask steal his way into a pub before turning to taunt them from the window. I can’t wait for next year.

This year’s Fête des Lumières in Lyon was full of cool stuff and some disappointments too.

Held for just four days a year — and often with bitterly cold temperatures (it was about 2°C when I was there on Friday night), the streets on Lyon’s central island are closed to cars due to the huge influx of freezing pedestrians. I wrote about it here last year.

The giant Ferris wheel looked magnificent, but advertisements for new movies kept appearing when I was hoping to see something a bit less commercial.

And I wish I’d taken a photo of the ‘giant squid’ which was actually just a whole lot of cloth hanging from above that didn’t look a lot like a squid. It’s disappointing because the guide has this fantastic photo of an amazing squid, but that’s obviously just the artist’s impression before it was made. Many other illuminations suffered the same fate or weren’t working despite the darkness.

.

.

However, the statues holding the fish was great! Pictured to the left, the four statues each had a fishing rod added, and tiny fish and ducks in bowls were dotted around (there are a few in the bottom right corner of my photo).

The fountain itself was dry, with lights and material added to simulate the flowing water. Although the photo can’t capture the flow, you can see the lights leading down from behind the statue. They impersonated water better than I imagined possible. The detail of the fishbowls impressed me further as they were a lovely touch to a great illumination.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Up and down one of the main shopping streets were these great giant desk lamps which changed colour regularly.

They sat in the middle of round seats, but being an infrequent visitor to Lyon, I don’t remember if these seats are always here and that the creators came up with a great idea of how to fill the centres or if the seats are part of the creation.

You might also see some other lights in the street: these were illuminated cranes. They were still birds. I would have enjoyed them more if they moved just a little bit.

.

.

.

.

.

.

This is an actual building, illuminated to appear skewed (if you look closely at the windows, you can see the illumination is weakened).

Members of the public were able to control how skewed the building looked by singing into a microphone. Different pitches caused the building to sway in different directions. This was possibly the most impressive illumination I saw due entirely to the interactivity.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Last year’s flowers on the steps towards the Croix Rousse end of town were replaced by moving space invaders.

They started high and came down row by row, just like the game, then started all over again. They moved both horizontally and vertically through illumination of different rows and columns at different times. Very amusing.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The place I stayed the longest didn’t involve any animation at all: it was a brass band of around twenty people who played everything from Blondie to Muse, and each member did a little spin when they played a Daft Punk medley that included ‘Around the World’.

It’s impossible to capture their spirit properly in a photo, but here’s one of the musician’s face reflecting in her own instrument.

Their clothes and movements were as quirky as their choice of songs. I don’t know who they were but they were a fantastically entertaining band to watch play. Bring on 2011.

August is the month of things happening in Annecy. This weekend signals the annual Fete du lac which I wrote about a few years ago, and barely a day goes by when there’s not some sort of activity going on. However, July 2010 was also fun-packed. I accidentally stumbled on this band playing on a canal just before August kicked in. Yes, I stumbled on a band playing on a canal. It was part of some four-day festival I had no idea about which involved wandering minstrels, some bizarre karaoke action, and this band playing on a canal.

They weren’t the best band in the world, but how could they be when they have to concentrate on standing still to prevent the whole floaty thing from tilting, possibly causing seasickness, as well as playing their instruments and singing. In fact, I’d say they were quite impressive because they kept a large crowd of people entertained amongst all this. Actually, were they entertained or bemused by the site of these three guys struggling to stay upright and perform at the same time? That, I’ll never know.

I imagine that trapeze artists don’t really like wind blowing them off course while they’re trying to catch each other and swing around in the air. However, St Jean de Sixt last week put an event involving wind and a trapeze. Let’s start with the exciting stuff — the trapeze. Both children and adults were allowed to have a go at this trapeze. Shoes must come off and a harness applied, but otherwise, off you go. Once up the ladder, someone on another swing would swing back and fourth while you get launched onto a swing, then get instructed to hold on with your legs and dangle your hands down, then the trapeze expert swinging opposite you grabs your waiting hands and you let your legs get loose of your swing, thus completing the trick.

And once you’re done, you can try your hand at one of the many musical instruments set up to capture the wind, or fly some of the kites on offer, or make a little boat and watch it sail with the wind on a big swimming pool. The whole event was staged on top of a hill — the windiest part of St Jean de Sixt, which doubles as a ‘ski resort’ (two drag lifts) in winter. I heard about it from a friend. The week-long event was free, which, according to my friend, happens in July when the villages and ski resorts want to attract as many holiday-makers as possible. Freebies help ensure there’s a flow of people in July, while it’s almost guaranteed in August. So, if you want cool freebie events when you visit the mountains, remember to come in July, not August.

Pictured are a few musicians outside the old prison walls of Annecy, smack bang in the centre of town. No, it’s not a prison anymore, but I bet the prisoners would have loved to have heard the music back when it was (and maybe the hot raclette cheese sandwich I was eating while watching the band play). So, why were musicians set up outside this picturesque spot in Annecy? Because Monday was the Fête de la Musique — the annual event throughout France where musicians play to crowds in the streets, parks and anywhere else they fit. Rather than waffle on about it, here are some of this year’s highlights:

• A woman with bagpipes walking around casually as if everyone carries bagpipes.
• A dog totally oblivious to the thrash metal happening on stage because he couldn’t take his eyes off the ball at his owner’s feet.
• A flirty moment between teenagers who were both too shy to do anything more than flirt while a band played on the stage in front of them. He reluctantly left with his friends. She watched him leave, blushing.
• An opportunistic street performer with a diabolo (piece of string with a cylindrical thing to balance on it) who looked like it was his first time trying out the equipment. A small crowd of disbelievers had gathered.
• A reggae band headed by a guy with a #2 head shave (he sounded properly reggae though).
• Bottles of ‘orange juice’ being shared by teenagers who were eager to drink – what good kids!
• A mosh pit/circle that was started by those same teenagers with all that goodness of fresh orange juice in their blood. Lovely to see teenagers working off some of that juice through exercise.

Johnny even features on Zippo lighters.

Well, not really. At least, not offensive to me, but apparently offensive to some French people. Time to rewind. Do you know who Johnny Hallyday is? In France, he’s touted as the French Elvis and indeed, he’s loved as much — if not more — than The King. Johnny’s getting on a bit now, but the post office proudly displays the Johnny stamps you can buy for your Christmas cards, or indeed as part of your stamp collection. Each year, a new Johnny DVD is released just in time for Christmas. In fact, as I walked through a supermarket the other day, I saw a man grinning and shaking his head at a television which was screening Johnny live in concert. I could just tell this guy was thinking “bah oui, he izz just too gooood.”

You may also be aware that Johnny had to cancel last-ever tour after some back surgery in France last month resulted in further surgery in the US (where he spends lots of time, apparently, because he’s not recognised). He was in so much pain that he was placed in an artificial coma for several days. French TV was all over it. Copenhagen climate summit? It barely got a mention, with Johnny being the first headline on every news programme. The latest news, now that Johnny is back from coma-land, is that he will be suing his French surgeon who allegedly bodged the initial operation. Fans in France were so upset about Johnny’s pain that the very same surgeon was attacked and beaten. That also made the news, but only because it had something to do with Johnny.

So, where’s the joke in all this? I overheard a French couple talking the other day when Johnny was put into the coma. The man, with a playful grin, said to his wife: “So, did you hear? Johnny Hallyday is dead.” She glared at him, paused, then said: “There are some things you just don’t joke about.” That was the end of the discussion. She was, of course, right. Nobody in their right mind would joke about Johnny being dead unless they want the same lynching that his surgeon received. Indeed, I was too scared to even publish this before Johnny came out of his coma just in case. Long live the king!

My blog statatistics tell me what some visitors have searched for before they arrived at my site, and they’re mostly on track with the content of this blog. The number one search every day is ‘how to pronounce French words’. I’ve discussed this, but there’s certainly no lessons coming from me, considering I’m still struggling to make the rolling ‘r’ sound!  So, for those visitors, try going to the BBC learn French website or the Indo-European Languages free online tutorials.

Now that I’ve lost half my audience, let me carry on with some other search queries. Someone found my blog by searching for “haloumi cheese in france”. Haloumi cheese is stocked in Paris, apparently, although I don’t know how widely available it is. It is not available at any of the shops in the vicinity of Annecy, Thônes, Moutiers or Bonneville. Yes, I have searched.

Another one: “how is ‘goat’ spelt in French language”. It’s ‘chevre’ and that can also mean goats’ cheese. So, if you order a salade chevre chaud, which translates directly to ‘hot goat salad’, rest assured that it’s actually warmed goats’ cheese salad and not a hot goat.

Another one: “music in Annecy”. The live music scene in Annecy is often limited to Savoyard thigh-slapping bands with big horns and matching outfits, but Annecy does offer some more modern live music too. Head to La Brise Glace (French for ‘ice-breaker’) on almost any night of the week and you’ll get some sort of music act. It varies from death metal to open mic nights and despite its diminutive interior, has often drawn popular international and local acts.

Now, some odder ones. Someone arrived at Le Franco Phoney after searching the net for “guys pee pee”. Mate, off you go to find what you want somewhere else! Other searches include:

• gay snowman
• angry tractor
• monster real life

Is this one person searching on several rather bizarre subjects? I’m afraid I can’t help this person/people or anyone who searches for these topics in the future. You’ve arrived at the wrong site. Is there a right site?