Tuesday 1 September 2009

Brel de Jour #4756...


BREL DE JOUR: DIARY OF A BRUSSELS CHANTEUR

I was looking forward to getting out in a large group after the Bruges show. My work can be so intense. I go through 15 packets of Gitanes in the first half of the show alone - I even get to take a drag once in a while. And two crates of mussels. I have lungs like a muddied road tarmaced with black pudding and my farts smell of the sea. And the material is such a downer - sex, war, guilt, death, blah blah blah. And then, after the break, I start on the serious themes. I sometimes wonder how I get the will to carry on - "My Death", If you go away" - hardly a barrell [sic] of laughs, is it? By the time I get to the bit "In the Port of Amsterdam" where the pissed up sailor laughs, it's a blessed relief. Then there are the groupies. It's like having a vacuum cleaner down your y-fronts, struggling to keep your end of the arrangement up, all the while knowing very little is going to come of it all. Except death, eventually - death and the black extinction of the soul by the black angel of death. It's so draining. Then there are all the hangers on at the after show party - "Oh, Jackie, you were wonderful..." And while I can't say I don't enjoy hanging around in cafes and coffee bars with a group of friends, smoking yet more Gitanes and discussing the Schengen agreement, there is always the danger that by knowing too much about each other, all those useful conversational skills will be lost. Lost like a childhood toy hurled into the abyss by a frightened trawlerman on a benzedrine spazz. So we end up talking about last night's Poirot yet again. Suchet was marvellous though, wasn't he?




// posted by brel @ 4:07 PM


Love on y'all,


Bob

Originally posted by Robert Swipe, 16.08.2005

xxx
Mort

6 comments:

  1. Shouldn't it be Brel Du Jour?

    Dave's Whelk stall at Skeggy was a notorious picking up point for people on cottage holidays. I knew there was summat fishy about it.

    I remember having a real laugh with Scott Walker there - the man's a hoot!

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  2. I think not Rog, with respect:

    http://belledejour-uk.blogspot.com/

    Aye Comma, yes, until he opens his mouth, it's Dreamsville, n'est pas??

    ;)

    xxx
    Mort

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  3. Yeah, the horse teeth ruined the dreaminess. Mind you, Jake Thackray was rather bloody well fit, but he used to be unpleasantly sweaty. There's always a flaw with those chanson types.

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  4. Scraping the bottom of the barrell with olde worlde posts?
    Hello mucker. Hope you're well?

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  5. Bettster: Jake Thackray - *now* you're talking. Fabulous man - I can even forgive him the sweat.

    Ist****ki: Well, it was either that or post up an Ariels tribute page... Fortunately, I'm not quite *that* desperate yet...

    Saw your CPFC flag at Wembley on the telly yesterday. At the risk of going all Brucie; Good game?

    Right, Carry on Cleo calls...

    xxx
    Mort

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