Histoire De Melody Nelson

🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮💩🤢🤮 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I give zero fucks.

I’ve been agonising over this album for months, wondering quite how to approach a work whose subject matter I find so profoundly troubling. Having finally listened to it properly, with a translation of the lyrics alongside the original French, I find myself in a rather worse predicament. Because musically, this is one of the most extraordinary records I’ve encountered during this entire project, and emotionally, it’s one of the most uncomfortable. The opening establishes an astonishing musical environment. Bass, drums and guitar are almost laid out sideways across the stereo field, conducting their own little conversations, loosely connected yet playing together with immaculate understanding. There’s space everywhere, and a wonderfully filthy funk underlying it all. This is emphatically a headphones album, with individual instruments inviting attention without ever demanding it. Over this comes Gainsbourg’s extraordinary vocal detachment, recounting the collision between his Rolls-Royce and a young girl’s bicycle with scarcely more emotional engagement than somebody describing an unremarkable journey to the shops. Then Jean-Claude Vannier’s orchestra arrives, initially in response to the narrator’s description of his car’s power, and the whole scale of the music changes. The strings are sumptuous, sometimes almost impossibly so, with moments when the bowed double basses play together and lend the arrangement an immense physical weight. But the original rhythm section remains perfectly audible beneath the orchestral magnificence. Neither swallows the other. The result is an extraordinary musical architecture, filthy funk on the bottom and absolute soaring ambition over the top. And then you begin paying proper attention to what Gainsbourg is saying. The narrator is a middle-aged man who develops a sexual obsession with a girl of approximately fourteen or fifteen. From the opening description of her displaced skirt and natural red hair, there’s an uncomfortably intimate quality to his observations. Gainsbourg delivers them with apparent nonchalance, his language moving effortlessly between the poetic, the affectionate, the vulgar and the absurd. In Ballade de Melody Nelson, the music becomes almost unbearably beautiful while the words repeatedly emphasise Melody’s youth. She’s a little animal, an adorable garçonne, a delightful child. There’s some remarkable French wordplay, including the deliciously outrageous transition through connue and petite conne, but the linguistic brilliance doesn’t make the substance any easier to accept. Valse de Melody introduces something more recognisably human. Its opening meditation on the scarcity of happiness and the gradual disappearance of love speaks to the experience of ageing, and to that sudden, intoxicating sensation that life might be opening up again. The image of the labyrinth’s walls dissolving towards infinity is particularly affecting. I understand the longing for renewed possibility, and the difference between that exhilaration and the reality of what a relationship might sustain. Gainsbourg has identified a powerful human experience, and Vannier has wrapped it in a glorious waltz-time chanson that ends in a strangely suspended fashion, as though the promised resolution has failed to arrive. Yet the more we learn about the narrator, the more difficult he becomes to accommodate. The nursery-like language of Ah ! Melody, with its childish games and descriptions of the foolish things she has supposedly induced him to do, gives way to the extraordinary L’Hôtel particulier. Here he takes Melody to what appears to be an elaborate establishment for clandestine encounters, describing the coded admission procedure, the silent attendant, the endless corridors and precisely which room to request. And I found myself wondering what sort of life this man has been leading if he knows somewhere like this so intimately. This is supposedly a transformative relationship, something that has opened his world to infinite possibilities, yet when he seeks somewhere private to take her, he immediately falls into what appears to be his established routine. He talks about transformation but behaves through habit. Musically, this is where Vannier becomes particularly interesting. The scrappy rhythm guitar in the extended coda acquires an almost waka-waka quality, reminiscent of a disreputable seventies soundtrack, but the orchestral strings nag and worry. They’re restless, unsettled, almost suggesting that something isn’t right. I cannot know whether that was Vannier’s intention, but it’s an ambiguity I hear unmistakably. The orchestra seems capable of questioning the events that the narrator presents so complacently. Then comes En Melody, with some of the loveliest instrumental playing on the record. The guitar and bass interplay is delightful, loose and beautifully responsive. I was enjoying myself enormously until Jane Birkin’s laughter and breathy vocalisations intruded. Following the events of the previous track, these sounds acquire an entirely different significance. What might have sounded playful in isolation becomes deeply uncomfortable. That’s consequential storytelling of a very high order, and I found myself simultaneously admiring its effectiveness and recoiling from the experience. And then Cargo culte arrives, reprising the opening’s magnificent groove while Vannier unleashes an enormous orchestral and choral spectacle. The narrator, overwhelmed by Melody’s death, turns to the imagined rituals of a cargo cult in the hope of bringing her back. The music has returned to its starting point, but the circumstances have changed beyond recovery. It’s an astonishing conclusion, almost religious in its grandeur, with that loose, filthy rhythm section still playing away beneath the soaring arrangements. The cinematic sweep of the whole album is breathtaking. There’s also a fascinating sense of musical history converging here. I hear a strong connection with Francis Lai, particularly the emotional ambiguities of compositions such as Aujourd’hui c’est toi. This isn’t merely the lush romanticism of French film music, but its capacity to make beauty coexist with anxiety and uncertainty. Yet the album also seems to anticipate an extraordinary amount of what emerged from the crate-digging musical culture of the mid-to-late 1990s. Air’s Moon Safari feels particularly close, with the harmonic movement of Ah ! Melody immediately recalling All I Need. And the combination of rhythmic physicality and tremendous orchestral ambition brought the opening of the Propellerheads’ On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, from David Arnold’s Shaken and Stirred, straight into my head. These aren’t necessarily examples of direct borrowing, but they demonstrate how far ahead of its time the musical conception feels. Gainsbourg and Vannier were achieving with live musicians in 1970 what subsequent generations would explore through sampling, electronics and archival rediscovery. But throughout all this musical magnificence, one thought kept returning to me. I don’t know Melody Nelson. I know the narrator’s wealth, his habits, his loneliness, his sexual interests, his yearning for emotional renewal and eventually the enormity of his grief. I know the way he sees Melody, the way he describes her, and what he believes she represents. But Melody herself scarcely exists beyond his account of her. She’s the subject of an entire album without really becoming the subject of her own story. Even Birkin’s vocal contributions amount largely to sounds rather than a recognisable independent perspective. Perhaps that’s the point. Perhaps Gainsbourg has deliberately constructed a narrator so absorbed in his own desires that he cannot properly recognise the person supposedly responsible for transforming his existence. There’s plenty of evidence for that interpretation, particularly in the juxtaposition of his romantic declarations and habitual behaviour. But I’m reluctant to declare it the definitive reading simply because it offers a convenient means of reconciling myself to the record. There’s also a distinction to be maintained between Gainsbourg the extraordinarily gifted musician and writer, Gainsbarre the provocative and dissolute public persona that would become increasingly prominent, and the fictional narrator of this particular work. The French have long seemed comfortable distinguishing these aspects of the man. I think that distinction is necessary, but it cannot settle every question about the art he made. What remains is an extraordinary contradiction. I love the instrumentation, the harmonic imagination, the orchestral ambition, the sheer audacity of the musical construction. I admire the economy of its twenty-eight minutes and the way its recurring material changes meaning as the narrative develops. I am frequently exhilarated by it. Yet the more closely I attend to the words, the more uncomfortable I become. Sometimes the two reactions occur within seconds of one another. The music seduces me; the narrator repels me; the sophistication of the storytelling earns my admiration; the consequences of that storytelling disturb me all over again. And I cannot make those responses cancel one another out. Ordinarily, this project requires me to arrive at some sort of numerical judgement. Here, I genuinely cannot. Five stars would seem entirely reasonable as an assessment of the musical achievement, but it would misrepresent my response to the complete work. A lower rating would suggest musical shortcomings I simply haven’t heard. And choosing something in between would be no more than an arithmetic compromise between responses that aren’t commensurable in the first place. The 1001 process will nevertheless require me to select a rating to trigger the next song. Whatever number I eventually enter will be necessarily arbitrary. It will be an administrative action allowing the project to continue, not a meaningful critical verdict on Histoire de Melody Nelson. I don’t want that number subsequently mistaken for an assessment I was able to reach, because the entire experience has demonstrated why I cannot honestly reach one. I’ve spent months wondering what to do with this album. Now that I’ve finally heard it, I admire it more than I ever expected and find it more troubling than I anticipated. Its musical beauty is undeniable, its artistic intelligence formidable, and its narrative continues to disturb me beyond belief. I don’t know how to rate it. More importantly, I don’t think pretending otherwise would tell the truth about what I’ve heard.

Not only did Gainsbourg have the audacity to write an album about being a nonce he also had the audacity to be French.

Histoire de Melody Nelson is one of the most infamous French albums for both very good and very bad reasons. To address the controversy, yeah it is super weird this album is the French audio version of Lolita. With that being said, if you did even a lick of research into Serge Gainsbourg you would know he is something of a musical troll that purposefully tried to stir controversy, and most likely did so with this album and it's subject matter on purpose. I am not saying that justifies anything here, but it does help provide a bit of context I see so many people skip over. As for the actual music itself, if you are a fan of Spoken Word over top of some really interesting and compelling guitar and Baroque Pop sounds then you will surely like this. I think Melody is an amazing opener to this album and everything else tries to replicate how "cool" that song feels and does a pretty mixed job at accomplishing it. Yes this album does have a bit of a curve due to myself not understanding a lick of French, but even with that clear language gap I don't feel the music is too hard to follow. I didn't mind this project but I just wasn't as into it and crazy about it as I would have hoped. The 28 minute runtime feels a bit too short and I like this album more when the songs are fleshed out and dynamic. While it is a very difficult album to talk about in some regards, I do see the hype but I am just not fully on board with it all.

Something about this I've always been interested in. I like the cover, I guess? I don't know, but I'm excited. 01. Melody I didn't expect a light prog-rock intro! A pretty cool little story, with fantastic instrumentation. 02. Ballade De Melody Nelson (feat. Jane Birkin) Wish it was longer! Is really pretty, even if the lyrics are really basic. #TomboysAreReallyHot 03. Valse De Melody Once again, too short! A really nice, classical piece that is just deeply comfortable and soothing. 04. Ah Melody Is pretty basic and boring. Weakest so far, second to none. 05. L'hôtel Particulier Nice, and simple. Makes hotel sex sound romantic. 06. En Melody Really sick instrumental! Also, I immediately recognized this being sampled on Not Over Till The Fat Lady Plays The Demo by De La Soul! 07. Cargo Culte Weird fuckin' lyrics, but the instrumentation is badass. This was cool. I just KNOW that for 1971, this would have blew my socks off. Not my favorite, but I liked it well enough.

a french pop concept album written and composed by serge gainsbourg; narrated throughout the record, listeners are introduced to the young and impressionable (fictional) girl melody nelson; an accidental encounter which lead into steamy romance and unfortunately her life cutting short after a plane crash. all within the span of half an hour. sleazy, strange, and very of-its-time, the album is a mixture of orchestral and funk. while sales were poor on release, this album was very influential for a lot of people, including the likes of beck, air, and others. the french always seem to be the best at weird tragic romance stories. the funky '70s instrumentals paired with the narration is quite the sound. the waltzing strings and the soft voices just makes you think... who is melody? what was so captivating about her? her innocent eyes almost track the viewer when they look at the album cover. i won't lie, it's vaguely perverted in a way... or at least a little creepy, a little shocking, the relationship dynamic here between the narrator and the very-clearly teenage melody. however maybe this story wasn't supposed to be sunshine and rainbows... an unreliable, daydreaming narrator and a girl whose eyes are like deer caught in headlights... sometimes love can be ugly in more ways than one.

I could hear all of the ways it was influential but I did not enjoy it.

As a french person, I must say I'm deeply ashamed of Gainsbourg being an ambassador of our culture. Being provocative is OK, but this alcoholic piece of garbage pushed things way too far. An album about pedophilia (even if some might say that the 70's were a different time, since he had a relationship with a minor in the 80's, this excuse can't stand), singing about incest (Lemon Incest if you are curious), drunkenly harassing women on live TV. He's still regarded as a major figure of the french music, has places/parks named after him, and his talentless daughter still carries his name (nepotism at its finest). The compositions on this album are good, enjoyable, and deserve 4 stars, but the lyrics are way too awful. Hearing some drunkard talking/"singing" about fucking a minor just makes me want to slap in the face any asshole defending this guy in the name of "art". If you want some french music from this era, please listen to Django Reinhardt, Georges Brassens, Edith Piaf ; Jacques Brel is already on the list. A lot of artists have been cancelled for less, and I can't understand how this didn't happen to him. Anyway, sorry for the rant, but I couldn't stay silent :)

Outstanding with 60s style

Despite the controversal concept, actually really enjoyed the music on this. The drums, bass and orchestration very obviously influenced Air's Moon Safari. Then you have this Jimi Hendrix fuzzy strat lead. Really enjoyed that.

This one could take a step down in the rankings with further listeners, but right now I enjoyed its brooding cinematic qualities. The opening and closing tracks clock in at over seven minutes each, which means they make up over half of the album’s running time. They both sound like “Hey Joe” and “Down By the River” with a string section. I am a sucker for this downbeat, distorted, bass heavy sound. The long instrumental passages also limit Gainsbourg’s whispering style, which seems anachronistic. I know it defines Serge and French 1960s pop, but it comes close to “Girl From Ipanema” annoyance. It is as if The Beatles just chanted “yeah, yeah, yeah” on every tune. Of course, I could be missing Serge’s brilliance as a lyricist due to no French knowledge. Clearly Serge must have a great rap if he could lure Bridget Bardot and Jane Birkin with a face like his. Anyway, the track with Birkin and a later one, “Ah Melody” avoid some of the pitfalls of other Gainsbourg records, although a French horn almost ruins the latter track. I would return to this album more than the one I own with “Bonnie and Clyde” on it.

Wow. Listened to it for the first time. What a great album. (Listened to it on Apple Music)

First things first: This album is about being a pedophile, which is pretty desturbing and quite normal in the music business (looking at all your favourite rock gods, yup, all perverts). But if i didn't find that fact out because I don't speak French, I would have probably enjoyed this album a bit more than i did.

Great album, icky concept.

I'd maybe put this on if I wanted something to listen to while I neck myself. Nah, that's a bit harsh. At least this is better than fucken' Morrissey.

Durisimo

Ощущение что посмотрел французский авторский фильм

Musica francesa🤮

Let's get this out of the way : the music is great, and Serge Gainsbourg has a very soothing voice. I know him better for his "Bonnie & Clyde" song with Brigitte "Nazi" Bardot, which I really like. The narration is fun. But, and it's a big but... Were there no other Gainsbourg album to put on the list? Seriously? Because, and I shouldn't have to say this, but no, you do not have to listen to an adult fantasizing about raping children before you die. The presence of this album on the list is proof enough that rape culture is very real. Yes, this album is about rape and pedophilia. I will excuse the people in the reviews who don't speak French and who didn't look up anything about the album. But to the others who try to minimize what this album is about : fuck you. The first song is the narrator meeting the so-called Melody. Second one, it's stated that she's 14 years old, and the narrator describes her as a "delicious child". In the fourth one, he asks himself what he's going to do to her. In the fifth song, he goes with her to a "Hôtel particulier", basically a mansion where they let you fuck. He describes the bedroom, the mirror on the ceiling, and then he embraces Melody. The very next song is called "Inside Melody". No fucking comment. And then she takes a plane, that crashes, and there's this whole thing about dumb, savage indigenous folks in Papua New Guinea. Anyway. I'm not sure what's more repugnant between this album and the many people here who frame this as him being a silly provocateur, who see the album as being "romantic" or "sexy" (it's one of the most frequent key word!), who will excuse the pedophilia because it influenced Beck or whoever the fuck else. Serge Gainsbourg isn't just a guy who liked to provoke. If he was, he would have explored plenty of other offensive themes. Yet, his two favorite themes were pedophilia and incest. The guy made a movie where he and his daughter Charlotte played a father and daughter who had an incestuous relationship. He asked his own underraged daughter to show her breast on camera. He sexually exploited his daughter. Don't tell me he didn't actually want to bang her. He very clearly did, and I wouldn't be surprised if this was more than mere desire. There's a French guy in the reviews claiming this album isn't actually pedophilic. Brother, there is a song called "Inside Melody" where we hear him fuck a kid. Please. Be fucking real. The comparisons with Lolita also piss me off. Nabokov wrote the book to show how twisted and horrific the mind of a pedophile was. Humbert Humbert is depicted as a monstrous predator. Lolita isn't a sexy book, it's a terrifying one. And this album is anything but that. It doesn't even try to paint statutory rape in a negative way. It tries to be funny, and sexy, and romantic, and apologetic. In the end, the reviews here piss me off way more than the actual album. Creepy artists can't help being creepy artists, but we choose to support their disgusting behaviors by minimizing their words and actions. Serge Gainsbourg is not unique in that fashion. Gabriel Matzneff, Roman Polanski, Bastien Vivès, Woody Allen, they all have a shitload of apologists and they're all roaming free. At least Gainsbourg is dead.

Give me an instrumental version 🤢

Aaah the Je t’aime guy! Regardless of the controversy, this album has some good tunes and consistent quality. It’s easy listening and a bit quirky.

Yuck

The sonic platitudes that this band was getting to were pretty impressive. However the unenthusiastic French voice didn’t do it any favors

Juu tosi kiva että ihastuit Melodie Nelsoniin mutta en jaksa kuunnella sun nillitystä hänestä näin pitkään.

++: Melody, Ballade de Melody Nelson, Valse de Melody, L'Hôtel particulier, En Melodie, Cargo culte +: Ah ! Melody 9,1/10

No, merci.

I like the music pretty well. While Gainsbourg wasn't the first to go full Lolita, we now have better ways to describe this: Presidential conduct. Probably the only way I can handle this record is my French language skills are bad enough that I don't understand what is going on - a pathetic, old man, pedo fantasy.

I loved parts of this, like the moody and cool non-spoken parts of the first track. Too much random weirdness for me to give it more than a 3 though.

2/5 - Instrumentation on this is sexy-cool in a good way. I gather the lyrics are sexy-icky in a bad way. Good for a one-time listen.

Music good, lyrics dodgy 😬

This was an interesting one. Turns out the version that played on spotify was the original album 4 times. I couldn't tell except a few French lyrics kept coming back. I'm adding to my 5 list so I get reminded to come back here.

C’est chiant

WTF. Really bad music combined with a dude who sings in French poorly.

Let's promote pedophilia. It's not art, it's demonic. zero. ZERO

I try to separate the artist from their art; I really do. I can listen to music by repulsive people when the music itself has something interesting to say, and I tried to do that with old Serge here, too. But it's impossible to overlook the fact that this is an album which tells - in loving detail - the story of a wealthy older man knocking a child off her bicycle, taking her to a sleazy hotel and raping her, only for her to die in a plane crash. That's it; there's no other side to this. The music is interesting and in other circumstances, would have me poring over it. But it's one of Serge Gainsbourg's masturbatory fantasies about a child, and there's no redeeming that. "Jane, could you giggle like a 14-year-old? No, don't ask me why, just do it."

This was hard to understand because it was written in French. Top tracks: "Melody," "En Melody"

I’m usually one of those “separate the art from the artist” people but in the age of Epstein that is harder and harder to justify. If I put on my Platonic vs Aristotelian critic’s hat for a moment (pushes glasses up), I’d give this a score of P: 1/5 A:3/5. So, I’ll split the difference ********************************************** --Melody...I don't know what he's saying but his voice makes me feel dirty. the rolling bass over the swelling strings produces a nice soundscape --Ballade de Melody Nelson...something similar but far more sinister. I'm not sure that was the intent --Valse de Melody...a compelling symphonic lamentation. too bad it sounds like this pain of love is being expressed by Pepe Le Pew --Ah ! Melody...something a little folksy. I appreciate the horn in the back half --L'Hôtel particulier...nice guitar and bass but it's a bit repetitive and plodding --En Melody...funky instrumental. the giggling(?) is unsettling --Cargo culte...long and aimless. I think the girl died

My French is ropey, but even I can figure this is a love album to Melody. Plus, it reminded me of arguably the most quintessentially French video of all time https://youtu.be/unYu22Ign1E?si=1gCP7nPyzi0EiVO8

3.5/5.

Gotta give this a 2 for subject matter.

1/5

Purely sonically, this is pretty nice; I'm indifferent to Gainsbourg's voice but the funk and rock is welcome, especially where Vic Flick's lead guitar is concerned. If I had no idea what Gainsbourg was singing about I'd find it pleasant and inoffensive and even fun. But I *do* know what he's singing about, and it's repulsive, and I can't overlook it - *Lolita* minus the irony and with even more ghastly self-absorption. Call me a prude all you want.

There’s some really cool instrumentation in the background, but I don't know... this French guy saying Omelet du Fromage for 28 minutes in that sensual tone of voice... I don't know, I think he's trying to make a move on me. 3 stars.

Musically it has nice instruments, and I liked the electric guitar here. Too bad I actually I read what this album is about, and apparently it's an autobioghraphical story about how this thirty or forty-something bag of dicks crashes into a 15 year old girl with his car, takes her into car, falls in love and drives her into a hotel and fucks her, and she later dies and this is a romantic story for him? Eat shit, fucker.

Melody - 3.5/5 Ballade de Melody Nelson - 3/5 Valse de Melody - 3/5 Ah! Melody - 3/5 L'hôtel particulier - 3/5 En Melody - 3.5/5 Cargo culte - 3/5 Very French and also very weird. Don't read into the lyrics too much or else you're starting at a French version of Lolita. Overall: 3/5 Favorites: Melody, En Melody

My lack of French comprehension makes it difficult to properly evaluate this album. From a purely sonic, along for the ride, standpoint, I think it was interesting enough to keep me engaged, but constantly annoyed that it was so heavily spoken word. Once I got a basic translation of the narrative content, um, well, maybe it was better unintelligible? I’m going 3 and leaving it there… Boolean: I suppose so

(*reads wikipedia article description* thanks i hate it) The non-singing vocals annoy me, but i like the instrumentals.. and apparently the album influenced Arctic Monkeys which checks out sonically so I will slightly tolerate it

At least it’s short, I respect those albums. Some people called it birth of trip hop, and I respect that too. It’s in French and I don’t get a thing, but it does sound pretty good. I read it’s some story or something, but I can’t be bothered to search a translation now. The first track is epic nonetheless.

Disgusting stuff from todays view (and should have been then too...)

Well not shades to this singer and artist but I dint speak French. I dont read it or understand it. That sets me up for a bad time. Like its not bad but knowing what hes saying feels like a huge component to what this record is. And the music alone is only OK. Its nothing too special by itself. It just doesnt have anything for me to latch on to. I feel a bit bad that im gonna give this a negative look but it have to. I just dont understand at all and i need to understand.

French. Concept album. Terms I dread when I see them. And my dread was warranted. This album was (thankfully) short, but insufferable.

I don’t have any idea what this guy was saying but based on the YouTube music description of the album, it’s about a middle aged guy dating a 14 year old girl. Gross. The music was pretty pleasant though and not being able to understand the lyrics meant I could pretend it was about anything other than a middle age guy dating a 14 year old girl.

Sounds like the background music for a 70s sex movie. Artist was creeping on a 15 yo. Instrumentation is fine.

The final song really does try to salvage the rest of the album with its big choral ending, but mostly I just found it to be quite boring.

Сара 2 Марко 2

Not for me Serge

A brash unique piece of concept pop

How much do you think that lady got paid to whisper "Melody Nelson" into the mic a hundred times?

Feels like someone's speaking in my ears like ASMR. I hate this

Je n'ai pas aimé

Experimental and in French. Some cool vibes but man I just can’t do some of these songs.

My Canadian grade 12 level French understanding of this made it clear that the content was gross and Wikipedia confirmed it. The context provided doesn't make it seem like you're supposed to hate the narrator. Even with the influential nature of the music, I can't justify giving it anything other than a 1.

Man this is a hard sell. Trust the French to have an album like this to be lauded as one of their greatest.

Attaching a full string section to such a loose funky band is undeniably impressive.

Had never heard of this album & "what a weird album cover" I'll check the album summary to find out more about it. NOPE, not listening to a pedo concept album. Today's album of the day is Mastodon - Leviathan, a Moby Dick concept album filled with gnarly riffs that are both heavy & have elements of country in them.

Having a concept album about wanting to bed a 14-year old is pretty despicable, and Gainsbourg is clearly a wrong un. That said, he doesn’t half make some good music

Horny French man makes horny French music.

This was a strange album. The music was good, but often muted behind Gainsbourg's spoken-word poetry. I know he's an institution for the French, but it was just fine for me.

voulez vous...oui! cover! c

Long album. But it's very groovy. I like the variety.

I really enjoyed the musicianship on this one. Vocals weren't as great, and it's probably for the best I couldn't understand the lyrics. Probably a 4, but docking a point for being an ode to statutory rape.

me gustó mucho EN MELODY

I have no clue what this guy was saying, but I loved every second of it. It was groovy and sexy, and I even liked the weird laughing. I'm a fan of Chilly Gonzales and it seems he has been influenced by Serge.

I really like the music, but the narrative is one hell of a story, isn't it?

Let me preface this with saying I listened to this before knowing anything about the concept of the album or Serge as a person, so this review is going to be solely based on the blind listen I went in with. That said, this is exactly what I signed up for! Production, performance, arrangements, everything is fantastic. Based on other French artists I've heard in my life, I can say Serge is absolutely as stereotypical in his delivery as you can get, but the way everything comes together is perfect. A little jazzy, a little avant-garde, very groovy, very sensual (and yes, feels gross using that word knowing what I now know..). Definitely makes me think of Air's "Moon Safari", albeit with organic instrumentation.

Ah Serge you mad sexy bastard.

I really liked the orchestral funk / rock / pop music in the background but don't love the spoken word narration. I can see why it was so influential though. Also I regret looking up the lyrics. Just wow.

Certainly an interesting listen despite it's dubious subject matter. Very influential. Lush

Transgressive, but short - at 28mins that's 2 mins for each year of Melody's life! An album I never quite got to on my previous sorties into Gainsbourg territory as I was almost exclusively in his Yé-yé period. Incredibly influential - the strings on the opener massively lifted for Becks Sea Change, the Stereolab like groove on L'hotel, the Cocker (or is it Tip-Top!) vocals throughout - also love the organ that drops in during L'hotel - itself taking a page straight out of Floyd.

You can hear the multitude of influences this album lays down for those to come, but the idea of a dirty minded lothario who liked a younger lady writing a concept album about falling in love and popping the cherry of a 14 year old is deeply disturbing. I’m marking this for the music alone.

Interesting. Won't listen to again.

Big fucking nope on this one. Pedophilia and statutory rape as the central theme to your concept album should have you immediately ejected from this list. The fact that so many critics can look past this is incredibly disturbing. If Trump wasn't such an imbecile you can bet this would be on his play list. Probably is anyway based on the wiki article. Epstien Island party jam bullshit.

meh

Pedo shit

Couldn’t finish it

Not good at all

Gross

Han gör sin grej. Stark tvåa!

Kåta jävel! Instrumentalt bitvis jävligt fett men väger inte tillräckligt tungt för att rädda oss från porrgubbens äckliga röst och porriga franska. Melody Nelson

Extremt viktigt album för den franska ASMR-scenen! Vilken jävla porr-gubbe.

Kåt gubbes introsamling??

Rolig skiva 3/5

🆒

oui oui

🚬

Someone I've never heard of with an album cover that made me think of generic Hollywood-friendly pop music. It took about 5 seconds for me to realize this was a stunning piece of modern production. I was so scared the experience would unravel negatively, and then the next song comes on and it keeps hitting you with quality. This experience holds for its entire half hour duration. Much respect has been earned for Gainsbourg before the album is over. This is 1971, a precursor to trip-hop, but it's got the *perfect* blend of spoken word, funk, and symphonic structure. I'm not even fluent in French, and it kind of matters. The story is crazy, straight up musings from the mind of a grooming predator, a very intimate look into the thought process of a disgusting animal portraying as human. You can nearly empathize with the fucker, the emotional aspect of the music is so solid. That doesn't stop L'hotel from feeling sleazy, but it's enjoyable as art, as an extension of someone else's feelings. The album takes you somewhere you might not have been curious about, and makes you experience things in a way that might feel foreign, that might allow perspective or understanding. 4.4/5

Garbage. Even if it’s meant ironically, his vocals are annoying and the music is not interesting

French concept pedo album. Coulda died without this one.

It was certainly interesting. Definitely different than most other entries on this and not in a bad way. A little corny at times. It clearly influced Pulp though, so I like that about it.

Melody 3.3 Ballade de Melody Nelson 3 Valse de Melody 3.1 Ah ! Melody 3.1 L'Hôtel particulier 3.3 En Melody 3.4 Cargo Culte 3.4 Score: 3.228571429