It ain't true. And I know what I'm talking about!
A very emotive singer. But he died much too young to know!
'it ain't true? It is not true for you and many others. For another 'many' it is.I have seen so many old people – some of them pretty wealthy – living in misery when I was a boy, in my twenties, thirties, fourties. Therefore, I do not feel too young to disagree.While you do know what you are talking about, Brel will have known what he was singing about.You do not need to be old, you do not need to feel forced to search waste bins for food or pick up fag ends to sing such a song.And you do know this, hm? :)
What you say is true for some.But this song is a very, very negative, one-sided picture of old age. It made Brel very popular, with some people, to do it. I remember very well that it also made many older people very sad, depressed and annoyed to be portrayed in that manner.I could take the song, line by line, and describe some "vieux" who are devoting their time in making other (younger) people happy. I've seen my own aunts (till the age of 87 and 89) being a blessing, and a ray of sunshine in our family.He should have titled his song: "Quelques Vieux". Actually, at one point, he was asked to do so. He wouldn't. In fact, (like in many of his songs) he was simply translating his own "amertume" at a very young age. He was a good interpretor of "Désespoir" and "Malheur". It made him famous.It pleased a lot of people. For me it was very sad and disappointing. I could say more. But I'll stop here. Thank you for listening.
Claude,I could take the song, line by line, and describe some "vieux" who were devoting their time in making other (younger) people unhappy. I've seen own relatives (till the age of 83 and 87) behaving as 'dragons' putting it mildly. Less mildly: They were fucking old bastards. Basta!And still they were treated kindly by their ever patient children.You remember very well that it also made many older people very sad, depressed and annoyed to be portrayed in that manner?Those people seem not to have had much self esteem.Werner Finck, when noticing SS-bastards in his show used to say: "Those who feel insulted ... are meant."And as an old saying goes: S/he who does feel insulted by others confesses to her/his mental inferiority.The peace of the night.
I don't agree with Mr.Fink.Why not praise people instead of using insulting terms, and add: Take it, if it fits. He would have lost me instantly as a listener.Old age is NOT easy. And we all need encouragement and recognition. It doesn't take much to feel sad and unappreciated. I was young in Brel's days. But I totally understood older people's reactions. And even more so today. If he would still be around, I would let him know. Alas, he never had the chance to get old. Rest In Peace, Jacquot! You did your best with what you knew.
So be it.I think he can live with your opinion.
Well, well, well... A first hearing and reading from me. Have never heard of this man before. Powerful. Odd. Rough but quite fine. Real... Too real? Too sure, for sure. Cheered me up enormously to find at least as miserable a bleeder as myself out there.... and increased my resolve to join the Dangerous Sports Society on my 70th birthday.... Or just become an impossible drunk, briefly. The road to contentment is the path to delusion, and I may follow it fast, when the time comes.
And... a memory, re-remembered, of that my mother banned all ticking clocks from our house, forever, on the morning after the long night when she sat up listening to one tick tock ticking... as her father died. I was five. Time continued, of course, but her awareness of it diminished, somewhat. Time is not the problem. Thinking about it is the problem. Though living forever would indeed be the real Hell, in my unhumble opinion.
Tick ... yes ... tack ... no ... tick ... yes ...