Listening to an Eddy Mitchell album is like hooking up with a longlost friend from high school. You start off talking about the good old days, but before long you're sitting there churning out the same old stories… And that, basically, is the story of Eddy's latest offering, Frenchy! Musically speaking, Eddy's new album is a veritable UFO for those under 35 with its country'n'western ambiences and the omnipresence of a "steel pedal guitar." And the message of the album is succinctly summed up on Sur la route 66 (On Route 66) where Eddy, far from getting his kicks, croons that "hey, kid, there ain't nothin' new in the Far West!"

Eddy's new album, Frenchy, recorded at the end of Route 66 in a studio in L.A., pulls out all the rock’n’roll stops. And, true to form, "Schmoll" (as Eddy has been known in the music world since the early days of his career) hooks up with his old buddy crew. Pierre Papadiamandis, a musical partner of long standing, was called in to cook up the majority of songs on the album and sous-chefs Michel Gaucher and Michel Amsellem each contributed their own pièce de résistance. Proud of his influences - Ray Charles, Gene Vincent and even, at times, Stevie Wonder – Eddy serves up his well-known recipe, but his team of chefs know how to spice up the standard ingredients, adding a dash of vibrant brass on J’aime les interdits and lashings of raunchy guitar on Y’a danger. And even if Schmoll did turn down a song by French songwriter of the moment De Palmas, he proves he can still rock out those electric guitars on Faut faire avec moi.

Schmoll's double whammy
Eddy/Schmoll may still be rockin' and rollin' it on stage at the grand old age of 61, but the question is whether he isn't getting a little bit gaga in his old age. At times the songs on his new album sound like a tired old repetition of the past - Je chante pour ceux qui ont le blues, for instance, sounds like a weaker re-run of Eddy's famous hit Cimetière des éléphants. Yet, while other singers would have played the sentimental card, there's one thing to be said for Mr. Eddy and that is that he serves up the Schmoll double whammy at exactly the right moment, throwing himself into his tremolos and belting out the blues in the chorus. Je chante pour ceux qui ont le blues (I Sing for everyone with the blues) could have ended up as just another love song, but Eddy adds a tougher edge, turning it into a song about "the hard life of a crooner."

Even though he does have a tendency to churn out the same sad old story of troubled relationships and lost illusions, there's no denying Mr. Eddy has a unique talent for taking listeners back to an era. One couplet or a bar of chorus and you're there! This is particularly true of Au bar du Lutétia, a touching tribute to Serge Gainsbourg, where the quality of the lyrics brings an entire décor to life before our eyes. As for Reality Show, far from being a straightforward diatribe against reality TV, the song turns out to have a much deeper edge, plumbing the depths of a woman's solitude as day-time TV helps her get through her day.

Back to the good old days!
For over 25 years now Eddy/Schmoll has shared his dreams and disappointments with fans, peeling layers of illusion away before their eyes. And his vision of the U.S. is no exception to the rule. Eddy knows the America of his dreams never really existed. Indeed, in a recent interview he was heard to complain that things have gone from bad to worse there, rules and regulations having reached the point where "people will only cross the road on a zebra crossing!" ¹ Perhaps that's why J’aime les interdits (I Love Breaking Rules) was inspired by an experience in an L.A. parking lot!

The other interesting thing about our friend Eddy is that unlike his "little brother", Johnny Hallyday, he maintains a certain distance in his songs, as if he were sitting up at the bar and commenting on the life he sees passing by. That doesn't mean Eddy's not capable of producing the occasional controversial opinion though (c.f. his recent health rant in La Tribune de Genève, "As long as Americans keep piling on the weight, I'll keep right on smoking!"¹). But don't be fooled by that surly exterior. On the inside the man's a teddy bear and a teddy bear capable of introspection, as he recently revealed in Le Matin, "The longer I go on in this profession, the greater my tendency to doubt what I'm doing. In this business you're only ever as good as your last album – and just because it starts off in a good chart position doesn't mean it won't go sliding down tomorrow!"²

So, what to make of Frenchy at the end of the day? Depends on whether you're already a Mitchell fan or not really. If you're a Schmoll convert you'll savour Frenchy as an agreeable burst of nostalgia, a welcome trip down memory lane. If you're a Scmoll sceptic you're likely to be overwhelmed by an irritating impression that Eddy's reheated the same old musical dish for the umpteenth time. Perhaps it's best to think of Eddy's new album in fashion terms – Frenchy's definitely not something you'll wear every day, but don't be surprised if at some point in the future you get it out of the closet and remember the "good old days!"

1La Tribune de Genève 31 May 2003
²Le Matin 3 June 2003