Liner Notes
Contrary to popular opinion, the accordion was not invented in
order to serve as an object of scorn. This is not to say that there are
not more glamorous and elegant instruments out there than the "poor
man's piano." but there are few that can match its capacity for merriment,
albeit tinged with a strain of melancholy.
Indeed, in this collection of instrumental and sung melodies, the
operative word is joy, the kind of joy that comes from letting oneself
go. The most inveterate of snobs will have a hard time resisting the
rhythm of Medard Ferrero's Les Triolets, which is a kind of busker's
William Tell Overture. Robert Trognee's Le retour des hirondelles is
a classic accordionized waltz. Emile Garrigoux gives a rousing
performance of the other mainstay of the accordion--the java. Despite
the pervasive gaiety, there is also something somewhat sad (plaintive)
in the sound of the accordion, which no doubt helps explain its
popularity among the working classes. The great accordionist Tony
Murena is heard here playing Le Denichuer and Indifference, two
wistful melodies, reminiscent of summer sea-sides at twilight. The
mood is enhanced by the accompanying zither, banjo and drums.
All the songs here belong to the heyday of this under-appreciated
instrument. Hard as it may be to believe, in Paris in the 1930s, there
were more than 300 "bals musette," or accordion balls, in operation.
There couples forgot their cares, dancing to sounds pumped out by the
masters of the bellows with keys. As evidenced in Quand on s'promene
au bord de l'eau, Jean Gabin understood what his audience was after-
a slice of unmitigated weekend fun, which they knew, alas, would only
last until Monday morning.
A central feature of the era and of many of these songs were
the guinguettes, or open-air dance parlors, which drew revelers of all
classes, who drank and gossiped and danced the java and the waltz.
They flourished at a time when the socialist Popular Front had gained
control of the government, and when new legislation extended hitherto
unheard of rights to working people. For a brief moment the accordion
and the proletariat could hold their heads high. The most noted
performers of the day--Maurice Chevalier, the young Edith Piaf, Damia,
Jean Gabin--sang to, and about, the ubiquitous "musette" or "accordeon."
These heady days were not to last, swept aside by the passions and
pains of World War II. Nevertheless, try as one might, one cannot deny
the accordion its rightful place in the grand tradition of French song.
It was everywhere once--and people did not plug their ears. Sure,
listening to these songs may bring to mind a carousel in an amusement
park, but, well, what's there not to like about a merry-go-round.
JOSHUA BROWN
ARKADIA JAZZ