J'suis Snob

When at the movies, I am disposed to choosing an international or a foreign film over the latest blockbuster flick starring some shameless American displaying his six pack abs, or her double D boobies. Not that boobies can actually be seen on the wide screen of a Malaysian cinema but don’t worry; I’m not into same-sex provocation either.

Anyway, it is not the same when it comes to music. I am inclined to listen to music made in English saved for a handful of songs that I somehow picked up along the way that is not conveyed in the current lingua franca. Frankly, I don’t understand these few songs but as we can all agree, the language of music is universal. Those foreign songs include a Spanish rock tune (typical, eh?), a popular German love ballad from the 90s (!!!), a Japanese theme song for a once crazed-over Japanese drama (I am susceptible to sibling influences), and M. Nasir.

I know M. Nasir is not exactly foreign. Allow me to venture on a tangent here for a minute. I like M. Nasir. Although Malay is my mother tongue but I will admit, rather overtly, that I do not listen to Malay music. It is not that I am opposed to Malay music. It is just, in my enclosed opinion, bad.
Or not good.
Or annoying.
Or ridiculous.
With the exception of M. Nasir. But why is M. Nasir different? How is it that M. Nasir can tower over the mainstream acts of the Malay music industry, hold his own and completely kick ass? Not only is he all that, but he has no Western influences either. His music is not some clever fusing of East and West nor churned out using a pop formula.

It is because sonically, he’s above mainstream deliverance. Because he can pen Malay literature and package it in a respectable fashion of music. How he merges his vocals, his words and his vision is solidly and intricately done. An apt representation of the arts that he has dedicated himself to producing. Creative yet infused with tradition. He even uses his masterful skills of pepatahs and not only am I capable of understanding it but I am in awed by his laudable brilliance. I can’t do it (D.U.H) and other Malay artists can’t do it either, not even under M. Nasir’s direction (such as the appalling Mawi). But I digress. My gushing over the musical genius of M. Nasir can be spared a different post.

Through the handful of foreign songs that are in my collection of music, one language is less evanescent, less difficult to tire of especially if I can’t extract any real meaning from the lyrics since it is unintelligible to my limited understanding of languages. I speak of the French. It’s so charming a language and so fine-tuned in sound. It’s classy, airy, and romantic. It has the ability to create a fanciful reverie. Listening to the French sing is like being let in on a secret that you mustn’t reveal to anyone even though you wouldn’t be able to anyhow given the fact that you cannot repeat what you don’t understand. Although French songs sound less cohesive in the sense that the words don’t follow in rhyme and it sounds verbose, but the delivery is often key to have it come off very sensible. In fact, despite not speaking French (and no, all those college French classes I took has not resulted in me speaking any real French), I find listening to French, very meaningful.

J’suis Snob is a classically jazzy, old-feel number from a deceased iconic Frenchman, Boris Vian. He was a man with verve and panache in his style of work that he has left as his legacy. And if I were a man, I’d have loved to have been him because this theme song of his fits his nature down to a T. A nature I’d have no problem adapting as my own. In fact, maybe it’s a nature I’m already well comfortable with. It’s not about being arrogant although the song oozes nothing else. But it’s about class. It’s about elegance. An exclusive self-absorption that is also convivial with a sleek touch in the manner of the 50’s. Boris Vian was a prominent controversial novelist, playwright, engineer, musician, actor, translator or basically an all around Renaissance Man back in the 1940’s and 50’s. He was also the one (along with a friend by the name of Henri Salvador) to write the first French Rock n’ Roll song.

J’suis Snob translated in English is “I am a Snob”. This song is a monologue. Somewhat of a soliloquy. It is Boris Vian declaring himself as an upper class, high-end, high-held nose and he owns up to the life so unabashedly. We could all use this egocentric liberation once in awhile and instead of getting yourself lipo and hair extensions and then proceeding to attend the talk-of-the-town gala, indulging in this song is sufficient enough. Indulgence is the word. What with lines such as “I have accidents in Jaguar, I spend August in bed, it is in small details like that, that one is snob or not”, it is that type of affluent flaunting and that level of grandeur.

The last 2 words this guy supposedly said before he literally dropped dead was “My ass!”
J’suis snob? I think so.

Download here.

Cath- Death Cab For Cutie

Cath, she stands with a well-intentioned man
But she can't relax with his hand on the small of her back
And as the flashbulbs burst
She holds a smile like someone would hold a crying child

And soon everybody will ask what became of you
'Cause your heart was dying fast, and you didn't know what to do

Cath, it seems that you live in someone else's dream
In a hand-me-down wedding dress
Where the things that could have been all repressed
But you said your vows, and you closed the door
On so many men who would have loved you more

And soon everybody will ask what became of you
'Cause your heart was dying fast, and you didn't know what to do

The whispers that it won't last roll up and down the pews
But if their hearts were dying that fast,
They'd have done the same as you
And I'd have done the same as you



There isn't much to decipher for this one. (so I think). Shaz asked me what I thought the line She holds a smile like someone would hold a crying child meant. At the time, I was a stranger to the song and its lyrics, and I answered offhandedly, "Smiling while gritting your teeth?"

Now that I've heard the song on loop, I realize now the heart of the song resides in that one line. All that tension, all the clench, all that quiet frustration, transferred mercilessly on some innocent molars. Hidden behind a desperately plastered smile.

Sometimes you have nothing else left to do.