17 October 2013

Sarstedt

He was born in India in 1941 but 1969 was Peter Sarstedt's year. He penned this song himself and it was No.1 in Great Britain for six weeks. Still making music to this day, he has never matched his sixties success. I think that what I mainly liked about this song was its intimate manner of address. Who is he speaking to? And he examines the pursuit of happiness - what really matters in our lives? Where exactly do you go to my "lovely" when you are alone in your bed? It was a song that really stood out amidst the more trashy hit parade offerings of 1969:-

You talk like Marlene Dietrich
And you dance like Zizi Jeanmaire
Your clothes are all made by Balmain
And there’s diamonds and pearls in your hair, yes there are.

You live in a fancy apartment
Off the Boulevard of St. Michel
Where you keep your Rolling Stones records
And a friend of Sacha Distel, yes you do.


But where do you go to my lovely
When you're alone in your bed
Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do.


I've seen all your qualifications
You got from the Sorbonne
And the painting you stole from Picasso
Your loveliness goes on and on, yes it does.

When you go on your summer vacation
You go to Juan-les-Pines
With your carefully designed topless swimsuit
You get an even suntan, on your back and on your legs.

And when the snow falls you're found in St. Moritz
With the others of the jet-set
And you sip your Napoleon Brandy
But you never get your lips wet, no you don't.

But where do you go to my lovely
When you're alone in your bed
would you Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do.


Your name is heard in high places
You know the Aga Khan
He sent you a racehorse for Christmas
And you keep it just for fun, for a laugh ha-ha-ha

They say that when you get married
It'll be to a millionaire
But they don't realize where you came from
And I wonder if they really care, or give a damn

But where do you go to my lovely
When you're alone in your bed
Tell me the thoughts that surround you
I want to look inside your head, yes I do.


I remember the back streets of Naples
Two children begging in rags
Both touched with a burning ambition
To shake off their lowly born tags, they try

So look into my face Marie-Claire
And remember just who you are
Then go and forget me forever
But I know you still bear
the scar, deep inside, yes you do

I know where you go to my lovely
When you're alone in your bed
I know the thoughts that surround you
`Cause I can look inside your head.

13 comments:

  1. Always liked this song ~

    ReplyDelete
  2. Loved that song and hearing it takes me straight back to 1969 when I was a student in France.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I've seen all your qualifications you got from the Sorbonne!

      Delete
  3. A sad song that has many happy memories.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. So it was you who eloped with Zizi Jeanmaire!

      Delete
  4. A great song - I fell in love with it the first time I heard it. I especially am/was intrigued by all those French/foreign-sounding references which meant nothing to me - being neither being musically aware in the 60s, no being artistic; and above all, being from Barnsley.
    Little by little you find things out as life goes on and I now have half the references sorted; Picasso, check. Sorbonne, check. Dietrich, check.
    Zizi whatever, still no idea - only dancer I know is Billy Elliot :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I was also struck by this song's exotic references - like a window into another world.

      Delete
  5. Terrific song, redolent of those who have made it in far away places but still dream of where they came from.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. "those who have made it in far away places"....You mean like Angola? "still dream of where they came from"...you mean like Cannock Chase?

      Delete
    2. I'll go and slash my wrists now.

      Delete
    3. Well if you can survive puff adder bites - you'd probably survive that too Marie-Claire!

      Delete
    4. By the way - "redolent" is a lovely word. I don't use it enough. Thank you.

      Delete

Mr Pudding welcomes all genuine comments - even those with which he disagrees. However, puerile or abusive comments from anonymous contributors will continue to be given the short shrift they deserve. Any spam comments that get through Google/Blogger defences will also be quickly deleted.

Most Visits