Jean Yanne - Coit
Deadly Death: Little Deaths is as much about dying as it is about doin’ it. In fact, the ‘Little Deaths’ suffix comes from the French Term ‘La Petite Mort’, a term often used by those conniving and lascvious Frenchmen to describe the transcendance of orgasm. I, for one, have always appreciated their directness. In my house, by which I mean the motel I’ve moved into, the knives usually come out after sex. But enough about work and my protective but violent employer.
Ever feel like you were born in the wrong country? ‘Coit’, or colloqiually en Englais, ‘Fuckin’, moves quickly to the top of the smelly, sweaty pile of songs seemingly built for showcasing on a site dedicated to corpulance, coitus, and cadavers, and has me trading in my toque for.. oh wait, toque is French. Anyhow, I’m gonna throw on a scarf then.
The first verse? Perhaps I’m prone to hyperbole, perhaps it’s the Veuve I’m drinking out of a coffee mug, but: it’s pretty great. If you don’t speak French, which is totally ok, bro, here comes a turtlenecked, windblown-haired eyeball-to-eyeball fuck poem from a gallic playboy:
I don’t know who you are.
I don’t know where you came from.
I don’t know your name.
I don’t know anything about about you.
I met you an hour ago.
And now, for an hour, with this music,
We will practice coitus.
Sometimes, the English language just falls short. I’m no lothario, but I can honestly say that girls don’t like it when you say ‘coitus’ to them, no matter how many times you wink. Sorry about that, Tyler. This gem undoubtedly got many a besmocked and beret-ed (?) jeune fille back to the [second location] in its time, and is funkier than blue cheese in a gym sock. Brilliantly juxtaposing the sound of an orgasm with a funereal church choral (‘Ahhhh, Ouuuiiiiiii’), with a bit of mildly menacing instructional direction from Jean Yanne (probably wearing a leather mask, FYI), what we’ve got here is sex, religion, dirty old men and the bass guitar tied up in a tidy, 2:57 package. Which, incidentally, is how I’m often described. I’m available, ladies!
Fig 1.1: Right???