Charles Aznavour: One of the greats of French song

As the world now knows, Charles Aznavour (1924–2018) died at the age of ninety-four on Monday morning. A Guardian headline calls him France's Frank Sinatra, which is a huge insult to Aznavour, who has nothing to do with easy listening, and many of whose songs contain a refreshing edginess.

The three-CD compilation of mine (great to listen to in the car) was bought last year at Montesson's Carrefour for a whole five euros: now, though,  I note that budget CDs are being replaced there by, er, budget vinyl albums. It's a weird world, but then what of 'Ostalgia', the huge nostalgia for East German culture?

I digress. Many papers have tried to find his best songs, but I prefer the five chosen by 20 minutes. 'Je m’voyais déjà' (1960), sung in the first person, is something of a self-parody: it's about a failed singer, and Aznavour certainly had a difficult beginning to his career. 'Emmenez-moi' (1967) tells of the joys of living at the other side of the world, a world where even the poor can take solace from the sun. 'La Mamma' (1964) was written by Robert Gall – France Gall's father – as a tribute to his own mother. Like a number of Aznavour's songs, 'La Bohème' speaks of passing time, particularly here of a long-gone period. And Aznavour had a great sympathy for the marginalised, in his own song 'Comme ils disent' (1972) for gay people, and (the gay) Charles Trenet went to congratulate Aznavour in his dressing room, jealous that he hadn't written it himself.

'Comme ils disent', though, wasn't banned from being played as the post-coital 'Après l'amour' was. My particular favourite is 'Tu t'laisses aller', a man singing about his once lovely wife in curlers, her stockings round her shoes, letting herself go and criticising him in front of his friends, etc: it has a rather more upbeat ending, but not before a great deal of drink-fuelled venom is employed. Easy listening, Charles Aznavour? No way.