Interview with Les Négresses Vertes

LES NÉGRESSES VERTES

Following Les Négresses Vertes triumphant return last year to celebrate the 30th anniversary of their classic debut, guitarist Stéfane Mellino tells Gerry Ranson it’s good to be back.

After years dominated by low-rent rock and diminishing returns, the Reading Festival was in need of a revamp. Having found success following the heavy rock revival at the start of the 80s, it had been surpassed by Castle Donnington’s hard hitting Monsters Of Rock bash, and was now having an identity crisis: 1988’s bill found Iggy Pop and the Ramones sharing the festival’s twin stages with Starship, Bonnie Tyler and Deacon Blue. Something had to give.

One of the most successful promoters of the 80s, Vince Power had built on the popularity of his north London venues the Mean Fiddler and the Town & Country Club and was looking to move into the festival business. Reading provided the perfect opportunity. With a background in roots and world music, Power brought a marked change to the line-up, with sets from the likes of The Pogues, Billy Bragg, Mary Coughlan and The Bhundu Boys. Intent on trying out new ingredients, he also introduced a new band, in the form of many-legged French troupe Les Négresses Vertes.

Described at the time as a “French version of The Pogues”, in their crumpled charcoal suits, the men and women of Les Négresses Vertes fused traditional sounds with bawdy barroom lyrics and a robust ladleful of punk attitude. Recently signed, perhaps incongruously, to dance label Rhythm King in the UK, they’d just released a debut album Mlah, and a single ‘Zobi La Mouche’, featuring a William Orbit remix. Not sure what to expect, as the band took the stage after lunch on the Saturday, a bemused audience would soon be won over by their woozy French charm, personified in louche, charismatic frontman Helno.

“Of course we remember the Reading Festival,” laughs founding guitarist and singer Stéfane Mellino when I catch up with the band ahead of their London show in November. “It’s very rare for a French band to play there, but the audience was very cool with us, and we had a big success.”

After a lengthy lay-off, the band reconvened early in 2018 for a tour celebrating the 30th Anniversary of the release of Mlah. It has proved so successful that they decided to go round again and completed further dates earlier this year.

“Last time we’d played together was for an MTV show in Paris in November 2001,” Stéfane explains. “Then we decided to stop for a while; we didn’t know the pause was going to be so long, but with the death of our manager Jacques Renault in 2004 everybody started to make his own way solo. We decided to be back together in order to celebrate thirty years of Mlah. We did our first gig in front of friends in a small venue in Banlieue de Paris called Le Blanc Mesnil and the response was incredible. We saw on their faces that everybody was waiting for that, including us! Since then it’s really enjoyable to be back and playing.” Continue reading “Interview with Les Négresses Vertes”

Chanson Du Jour: Volia l’ete (Summer)

Les Négresses Vertes – Volia l’ete (Summer)  

Heard this song playing outside at a wine tasting today, and it reminded me of a truly great band from the late ’80s – Les Négresses Vertes.

If The Waterboys had been born French, they would have sounded like these guys. Lead singer Helno Rota, who died of a heroin overdose at the age of 29, in 1993, was the real deal – a great singer, performer, and hell-raiser.

This song is from the band’s classic from 1988 Mlah  

Paris, Day One: Rain on the Roof of the Pomme Store

Our first full day in Paris began with a unexpected trip to the Apple Store in the fashionable Saint Germain neighborhood, where Miles Davis once romanced actress/singer Juliet Greco and where Linda was now romancing the cash registers at  several dress shops. I mistakenly left my MacBook power adapter on the plane, so I needed to get a replacement. Voila! We were in and out of the Pomme Store with a brand new power adapter tout de suite, but the rain downpour made us seek shelter for an early lunch and glass of wine. Our meal of lamb, cheese and ratatouille was lovely, and although the rain wouldn’t stop,  the way it made her look made me hope it rained some more (merci, John Sebastian).

Rain On the Roof  was a great sixties-era tune. Best French song about the rain? How about this one sung by Jane Berkin with help from the great gypsy/punk band Les Negresses Vertes – La Gadoue.

After lunch, we did some shopping and then onto the Musée d ‘Orsay for their fantastic Portraits of Cézanne exhibit. More on that tomorrow!

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Béatrice Dalle is the ultimate femme fatale

If you had to choose one adjective which least suited Béatrice Dalle, you might do worse than “demure”. The actress, who celebrated her 50th birthday recently, may have become an object of desire to rival Bardot or Monroe, but her behaviour has, on occasions, been more reminiscent of a female Oliver Reed (a remarkable achievement, given that Dalle is not a drinker). The woman who has been described as “a walking grenade,” a “one-woman Vietnam”, “the patron saint of the abyss” and “Joan of Arc: the suicide bomber version” has agreed to meet me in the small village of Grignan, just outside Montélimar, where she is playing the lead in Lucrèce Borgia. Given that, in this role, she only kills seven guys nightly, straddling the corpses with an urgency more suggestive of lust than remorse, you might say that she is mellowing.

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