Georges Charles Brassens - sale petit bonhomme
I don't always post pictures of men I would like (or have liked) to sleep with. That might surprise you.
There are very few images of the man where I find a certain sexual attraction (although this one...maybe). For those of you who don't know, Georges Brassens (1921-1981) was a French singer-songwriter who became a French national treasure.
Self-taught in music and classical literature, his songs are masterworks of melodic complexity and literary gymnastics. Am I getting carried away here? Yes, probably. He was a genius and a hero of mine and one of my two favourite artists (Brel being the other, and I cannot decide which of them I love most).
He could also be obscene (listen to Le Gorille or Le Temps ne fait rien à l'affaire) for which he was criticised, so he produced Le Pornographe du phonographe. He also wrote La Mauvaise réputation, currently my favourite, about being frowned upon by les braves gens.
Famous as a pipe-smoker (though he occasionally smoked cigars), politically engaged and with a wonderful deep voice and Provençal accent. Listen to Mourir pour des idées, one of the angriest songs I've ever heard.
He died aged 60 (looking at the image above it's hard to believe he was that young), but he packed in at least two lifetimes of wonderful songs that live on. Oh, and the moustache. Mustn't overlook the moustache.
