1968

Definitely the weirdest record of France Galls career, 1968 (released in 1967) shows the influence of British psychedelia as it spread across the English Channel. Like Merseybeat and other rock and pop forms before it, though, the notion of what of psychedelia was or could be was twisted by French musicians into something idiosyncratically Gallic. Even though echoes of Revolver and Sgt. Pepper (and others) are all over this, its French roots are still easily identifiable and unmistakable as French. Further, its performances, are easily identifdiable as Galls as they build on the ye-ye production experiments (courtesy of Denis Bourgeois) from the singers two previous albums Poupee De Cire, Poupee De Son and Baby Pop. Opener Toi Que Je Veux penned by Frank Thomas, Jean-Michel Rivat and Joe Dassin, is innocent enough with chamber strings, an electric bassline and congas. Immediately following, her father Roger Galls and arranger David Whitakers Chanson Indienne sets the weirdness spinning as Donovan-esque sitars, spacy flute, baroque strings, layers of percussion, reverbed guitars and drums recall the the layers of sound aned texture Brian Wilson was attempting for Pet Sounds. Avant la Bagarre penned by Ralph Bernet and Guy Magenta, weds fingerpopping Farfisa organs to rave up singalong, Kinks-esque pop with Galls perky-wispy alto voice framed by the rhythm section. One gets the sense that the session players are not young rockers but older, jazz-based musicians, familiar with playing everything from film music to cha cha and chanson; they add an even more stranger twist toi the proceedings. Serge Gainsbourg is less in evidence here than on Galls previous releases; he contributes only two tracks: the mysterious, labyrinthine Middle Eastern-tinged Nefertiti and the perverse rocked out boogaloo of ther terminally silly Teenie Weenie Boppie. Galls father reasserts his authority on the proceedings in writing a third of the albums 12 songs including swinging chamber jazz number Les Yeux Bleus with Claude-Henri Vic and childlike closer La Petit, sung in duet with Maurice Biraud. Ms. Galls regular producer/arranger, Alain Goraguer, is largely absenton this date--he arranged only four songs. The lions share of the album sessions were helmed by David Whitaker, then a new face on the French pop scene. As a conductor, he holds a lighter baton than Goraguer, and his charts offer an airiness that allow the pillowy psychedelic elements space to breathe adding to the sets more exotic sound overall. His charts and instrumentation suit Galls alto beautifully, especially on the enchanting Bebe Requin. Thouygh 1968 is perhaps not it this is an influential and essential album from the ye-ye scene of the mid-60s--arguably the artists most enduring and grounbreaking period. ~ Stewart Mason