Sebastian:

Phoenix - "Napoleon Says"

Naming a song for a notorious nationalist figure like Napoleon while trudging along as an English singing French rock band would appear to be an easy knock. Too much cultural self reference.
Totally different, but imagine the similar cheese factor if a band from our domestic market named a song after George Washington or something. It would seem for a French band to mention Napoleon opens a line of questioning whether feelings of inferiority are an issue, given that such a well recognized and accurately identified as French figure acts the protagonist for effect. Even in caricature it seems too obvious. Not unlike yelling "hey we're French! Crepes, cheese and baguettes! Napoleon!" In other words, overcompensation born out of insecurities from the deepest fear of a proud nation. Pegging a figure with the name awareness rivaling only Mickey Mouse is all the more peculiar.

You'd expect a campy, variety show circuit outfit to write a Napoleon song, and they may have, but for some reason what looks completely Euro-trashtastic on paper is redeemed by the interesting pop rock song it actually is. The alarming metallic notes of the intro provide plenty of allure while doing good work in negating concerns. What makes this a perfect song by a French band is the innate manner it covers expected bases in a smart but not terribly subtle way. So far we have the capriciousness of pride & insecurity and the tentative connection to the past only a long complicated history allows.

When it directs itself at a Francophile European wannabe it wins with humor. Hilarious, sad, and common. Everyone knows a girl (or guy) smitten over a Frenchie. Those accents can be damn seductive. Once again whether true or not its as French as anything could be.

Jeff:

Charles de Goal - "Synchro"
Ruth - "Polaroid/Roman/Photo"

In honor of our theme, I will answer this question in the snootiest, most superior way possible. I've done my best to inject my love of old Francophone music into the site pretty steadily, and have gone on at length about France Gall, Françoise Hardy and Serge Gainsbourg. That sixties era was magical, but even though anything except Serge's "Requiem Pour Un Con" feels like betraying my gut, let's go deeper. Those big eyed girls filled with ennui and the sleazy letches who shared their duets almost seem like a cartoon version of a populace anyway, the slightly degrading Pepe Le Peu choice. It's always surprised me that the sheer volume of bands coming out of France is seemingly dwarfed by the output of relative World Stage also-rans like Scotland or Sweden. Shouldn't a culture that puts a premium on art, aesthetics, and revolution be a perfect bastion of punk rock? Well, despite being Rough Trade's first ever single release, Metal Urbain is no argument winner. The only evidence I have that there might once have been the French Underground of my dreams, is a swell compilation called, So Young But So Cold: Underground French Music 1977-1983. Influenced by the national inclination towards existential dread and warped by the proximity of krautrock, the ultra obscure groups it contains channelled the electric inventiveness of the post punk era towards dance music, which would historically be proven to be the country's forte. I've previously enthused over the simple minded but epically groove-y "Synchro" by a group called Charles de Goal, but have lately found the hypnotic synths, decadent horns, and pervy polaroid noises of Ruth's "Polaroid/Roman/Photo" to be very much its equal. Le toss-up.

David:

The Ether - Rue Des Jours

I went through a major Hal Hartley phase in the '80s and the music in his films was never less than entrancing. I don't know what happened to Ether, but this song is stunningly gorgeous and has a magic all its own. I forget what movie this is from, and I have no idea what it means, but it still casts its spell on moi, not least because it's in French and sung by what sounds like a choir of fragile French beauties....

Randy:

Air - "La femme d’argent"

I am not going to play the, “pick a lesser song for the sake of novelty” card, and instead go with what I think is simply among France’s better, both artistically and in stereotypical representation. Everything associated with Air, the laziness, the sexiness, the apathy, screams France. What’s more, I’m not sure if there’s a more logical step leading from Serge Gainsbourg, the country’s most well regarded musical son, to the nation’s currently trendy crop of electronic duos.

It wasn’t too long ago that Moon Safari had a constant home in my CD changer, and “La femme d’argent”, the album’s opener, soundtracked any number of irresponsible encounters. But that’s hardly the only reason I chose this song. Released (in the U.S., at least) on my eighteenth birthday, it wasn’t until a year-ending best-of CD that I had picked up in December of that year that I got to know it. A subsequent long winter bus ride consisted mainly of this song on repeat. Moog, piano and organ are piled up, one on top of one another, over and over, creating a cherubic mood that hangs over the whole thing; this might best be described as “futuristic-pastoral”, which is less ridiculous than it sounds. And while there are certainly moments of organic honesty (such as the hand claps and what resembles the pattering of rain), this track is more likely intended to invoke a time and place after our own, where the symbiotic relationship between humanity and technology is seamless. There is a notion of perpetual possibility that is epitomized by this song. And it’s not just for the future of society as a whole, but also the potential for something nearer, simpler and more personal. I guess then I would call "La femme d'argent" one of my favorite songs; it just happens to be French.

Yonah:

Django Reinhardt - "J'attendrai"

We’ve all been there, those downtime hours in rooms full cigarette smoke when all of the sudden an intense card game is broken up by the reminiscent sound of a violin, the card players take one self assured look at each other and the next thing you know everyone has broken into song.

If ever there is a time that you need to prove that scenes like this once existed, there is Django Reinhardt and this clip of his band Quintette du Hot Club de France playing the song "J'attendrai." Reinhardt, whose famous soloing style was forced into being after a caravan fire left him without the use of two fingers and a thumb on his left hand, was one of the initial European Jazz stars. Reinhardt is also one of the few guitarists whose biography contains the words, “son of a circus clown.” In any event, his band was one of the first to utilize a lead guitar with a backing rhythm guitar resulting in a sound that can only be described as coming from the streets of France.

Keith:

M83 - "0078hrs"

I could easily put forth some AIR here or Daft Punk and call it a day. And while I will probably be listening more to either of those bands than M83 in the future, this song was worn down on my iPod (gen 2) in 2003 when I was in my Ms. John Soda glitch pop phase. At once brash and melodic, the beauty is found in the breaks and the multiple tempo changes keeps it from provoking a fuzzy, zone out.

Next on THE LIST: GLUTTONY SONGS