Chaque Jour En Transparence

I never really liked French at school. The subject, not the people. It was obligatory for the first five years, and was about as much fun as forgetting your games kit in January, and having to do cross country around Danson Park in vest, pants and a pair of ill-fitting, borrowed, verruca infested plimsoles. I saw it happen once. Nipples like tiny blue wheel nuts. The poor lad was never really the same. Not good.

What didn’t help was having a joyless crone for a teacher. She didn’t like me. In fact, she didn’t like anyone. She always caught me cheating, would mark mistakes with big red sweeping circles and ‘NO! NO! NO!’s (like you’d just committed a particularly nasty atrocity against all of humanity) and generally set out to make the learning of the French as miserable a process as possible. She succeeded, and on that I suppose she should be congratulated.

But now, my opinion has changed. Only slightly, but changed nonetheless. Because not one week ago, I managed to successfully traverse the French Amazon, to purchase an album. Admittedly, it’s set up exactly the same as the English version, and admittedly, Stardust has managed to carry out successful transactions on the Japanese Amazon before, but at this point every victory is precious, no matter how big or small.

The reason for this crazy adventure is that you can’t seem to get anything released by Les Rita Mitsouko prior to 2007 over here for love nor money. Well, you can, but it has to be ordered, and then you have to wait for ages, and then you have to pay for it at import rates, and it’s all a bloody great big horrific massive bloody nightmare basically. So, being the worldly wise and upwardly mobile young buck that I am, I went straight to the source. Because, you see, they are a French band. Mais non... Mais oui!

I only came across them the other day because they’ve released a new album and ep, and they played recently at the Scala. I was informed it was a ruddy triumph, so I thought I’d have a look a bit further back, and being a thorough sort of chap, I went back to the start. 1984. Who would believe such times existed?

After a bit of a wait, and the paranoia that only the most selective of postmen can cause (one for you, one for postie, one for you, one for postie), it turned up on Thursday. Up until then, I wasn’t having the best of weeks. I’ve had a touch of the man-flu, and as any man will tell any woman that listens, there is nothing worse than that. Yes, when inflicted with a dose of the man-flu, we carry on, but God knows it’s not easy. We don’t like to whine, it’s not in our nature, but oh yes, it is a burden. Oh yes. So, I think we can say I was feeling a bit sorry for myself.

Where modern and self medication failed, Les Rita Mitsouko triumphed. It’s a bit hard to pin down why – I’ve seen them described more often than not as ‘avant-garde’, but that tired, over-used phrase never really entered into my mind. French, yes, 80s, yes, Cabaret-era-Weimar-Berlin, possibly. All over the place definitely. Euro-tastic, oh yes. In fact, a couple of tunes, most notably album opener Restez Avec Moi, start off like every summer’s family favourite song that only the most cursed of Europe’s holiday hotspots can boast. Fortunately, they sort themselves out, but for a while, it’s a bit of an eyebrow raiser.

Occasionally, the album reaches brilliance. Marcia Baila might be the most played song in French radio history (nice little fact there), but it doesn’t feature "Atiai’s rythm computer" – "Aie (Kriptonite Miss Splein) does, and it’s deemed worthy of a mention in the sleeve notes. As such, it is also deemed worthy of inclusion here.



Les Rita Mitsouko – "Aie (Kriptonite Miss Splein)


When listening, you never get a chance to get comfortable or settle down, because the direction changes so often. Along side straight-up-pop-ditties come doom-laden-synth-wails, triumphantly so on Galoping – which as well as being a magnificent blend of Kraut-Gallic-Sioux, is a prime example of a band struggling to name a song.



Les Rita Mitsouko – Galoping


And because I’m feeling particularly saucy today, here’s one more, the most played song ever on French radio ever.



Les Rita Mitsouko – Marcia Baila


So there you have it. A man-flu curing treasure from across the seas, possibly making up for 5 years of abject nonsense suffered at the hands of Britain’s worst teacher. And not too many records can be said to tick both of those boxes.

You can find the album on the usual websites if you can be bothered to have a look around and a wait, but I’d heartily recommend stepping into Europe, and getting it from here. Just don’t blame me if The Best Of Charles Azavour turns up instead.


Tiny Dancer


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