But seriously…

Frank Zappa published a series of albums of live performances entitled « Does Humor Belong In Music? ».

Good question. Or is it?

It sometimes seems that for any artistic endeavour to be taken seriously and respected, it has to be, well, serious, and as such, devoid of humor.

Humor casts doubt on the seriousness of the art/artist. Worse, it is probably a sign of weakness, a cop out, an admission of frivolity and therefore evidence for a lack of depth and meaning.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve held the opposite view. I’ve always thought that humor is probably the highest form of human expression. It requires seeing beyond the obvious, or juxtaposing things that aren’t supposed to be juxtaposed.

Which makes humour and art close cousins, or even closer relatives. Art is also about seeing beyond the surface and reinterpreting reality, to reveal some hidden beauty or horror or meaning of some kind.

Be honest with yourself. If a book or a movie or a painting or anything makes you laugh, don’t you file it in a separate mental file, along with other funny stuff, and segregated from serious literaahture, meewwwwsic, cinemaah, and aahhrt?

The same goes for more popular forms of art and entertainment. How many photos of rock musicians have you seen, posing for album covers or press articles, in which they are not brooding or frowning or pouting? When is the last time you saw one smiling?

It looks like I could be smiling on the picture on the about page of this blog. What a terrible faux-pas.

What can I say. I’ve been repeatedly told that because some of my songs are humorous, that makes me a (bad) comic or comedian, and not a respectable songwriter. My US critics on GarageBand.com rarely failed to compare my stuff to Weird Al, and they never meant it as a compliment.

But to me, humour in music adds to the artistry, it doesn’t subtract anything from it. And given the hostility towards humour in serious circles, one might even venture that it takes a solid pair of maracas to venture in such treacherous territory.

I’ll spare you the political aspect of the question. Suffice it to say that the Spanish Inquisition wasn’t known for its sense of humour.

I can’t quite believe I haven’t blogged about this yet, because it is often on my mind.

But I know what, or more exactly, who finally inspired me to bring up the issue.

I have always been a huge fan of Richard Gotainer, whose quirky electronic pop-rock has always delighted me on many levels. He was huge in France in the 80’s. He started in advertising, and his jingles are better known than the Marseillaise by most frogs. And his huge hits were all, oh the horror, goofy, humorous songs about the way people talk to their dogs, about decals, and about the grotesque side of love and sex.

I’m sure a lot of serious frogs have a soft spot for him, even though they would never categorize him as an artist of any kind.

I raised my kids on his stuff. Which is why they were beside themselves with joy when I gave them an early christmas present last weekend: I took them to see Gotainer in concert. At 60, with a new band of young musicians, he tore the house down. Two and a half hours of old hits and songs from his new album, « Espèce de Bonobo« , which I bought after the concert and which has been playing non-stop in my built-in music-player.

I was particularly wowed by a new song he played on stage that isn’t on the new album. It was commissioned by the Champagne region of France, and is typical of his sound. Even if you don’t speak a word of French, you should have no trouble discerning the humor, in the arrangements, or the particular timbre of his voice. But hopefully, you won’t let that stop you from admiring and enjoying the melodic twists and turns, and the overall quality and mastery of the song.

And the video, which I discovered this morning, is simply stunning.

I hope you enjoy it as much and as deeply as I did.