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Françoise
Hardy • Reissues 1996–2003
Remember
the old story about Tobi Vail, who spray-painted “Smells Like Teen
Spirit” on the walls of a Portland club just to mock Kurt Cobain’s
obsession with Kathleen Hanna’s deodorant? Bikini Kill, Bratmobile,
and Heavens to Betsy–– along with their contemporary counterparts
(the sublime Tracy + the Plastics, Team Dresch, The Butchies)––
legitimized and politicized the “grrrl power” genre, but who
came before these bitchy ladies? I mean, let’s be realistic: some
mid-90s ladies were a bit turned off by the hard-to-like posturing of
the riot grrl scene. Tobi Vail’s punk-princess condescension is admirable,
but what about those down days when your pre-teen inner self just craves,
well, bubblegum?
With only a few scratched
Shangri-Las mix tapes to soothe my soul during the bastard band (Soundgarden,
Tool) hype of 1995, I would have killed for the current re-issue mania
of Yé-Yé girls memorabilia. The Yé-Yé girl
music scene emerged from France in the early 1960’s, with the lovely
Françoise Hardy serving as its leading lady. With late-90’s
reissues of classic albums like La Question (1971), Ma Jeunesse Font le
Camp (1968), and even the 1969 sticky-sweet Françoise Hardy en
Anglaise (which includes covers of plaintive pop standards like “Will
You Love Me Tomorrow” and “That’ll Be the Day”), Hardy
established herself as the leading chanteuse of 60’s sorrow. Her
songs are spare and solemn, and can best be characterized as French folk-rock,
though she clearly knows her pop, jazz, and blues traditions just as well
as her Bob Dylan records. Most importantly, though, Hardy is widely credited
as the first French “girly pop” singer to write and record her
own songs.
La jeune fille Françoise Hardy and her Yé Yé girl
compatriottes (France Gall, Isabelle Adjani, Birkin) symbolize a chanteuse
equivalent to Brigitte Bardot’s undeniable sexual magnetism. Fresh
as milk, twangy, and French to boot, these ladies may have weathered some
ugly French winters, but their collective releases call to mind kitsch-and-kitten
visions of tearstained trysts. Francophiles in and out of love would do
well to pick up The Vouge Years, a 4-CD compilation released in 1995 that
includes recordings from 1962 to 1967. If that seems like too much commitment,
the 2003 re-release of 1967’s adult, orchestrated Ma Jeunesse Fout
Le Camp will have you pouting artfully. Or if you just want to hear love
songs sung in English with an adorable accent, try 1972’s Love Songs
[Kundalini], which includes a gorgeous cover of Neil Young’s “’Till
the Morning Comes.” Bon-bons and champagne, anyone?
—Molly Boyle
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