Gainsbourg's masterpiece, in need of some help

With a small mp3 player I find I always go to one album, not choosing between several. That's because, without planning, each album seems to represent a distinct style of music.

This morning's reading accompaniment was Serge Gainsbourg's Histoire de Melody Nelson, a psychedelically orchestrated concept album about a man's infatuation for a fourteen year-old. Ah, France, it was only recently that you raised the marriage age to something approaching the rest of the modern world (from 15 to 18)!

Most people, in an effort to spread the good news that this album was even created, present a hagiographic paean extolling its unparalleled excellence. Whew. I like it too, and as an album, it's probably his best (certainly his most enjoyable--I would suggest going the compilation route with Gainsbourg just like every single French/Belgian musician, pre-French Electric bands). There are two things, though, that relentlessly bother me about this album.

First of all, the mix is weird. At best, I have to think that it was mixed in some nonconformist vein. The kick drum and the bass are both heavy and low, but the rest of the album is painfully soft. It's like the engineer turned down the treble while recording. This means you're required to turn the volume way, way up to hear what's going on. Perhaps this came about because Gainsbourg is talking throughout the album in a very low tenor, which shares the low-end spectrum with the drum and bass. I just can't help thinking, though, that they could have used stereo effects better to position his voice opposite the drums and bass, and then turn the bass and drum down a bit and push the rest up.

The other problem with this album is on the track En Melody. Chicken scratch guitar and snappy snares combine to make this the wildest French psyche track ever, but it's fairly marred by one thing: Jane Birkin's teeth-on-edge laugh! And, again with the mixing issues: it's mixed way up (prominently), so you can't think of anything else but her cackling, which sounds like Fran Drescher. Oh, it's so bad. Jane Birkin is cool and all that, but that laugh is way out of place. Even a good laugh is hard on dance music. Probably the best is on Grandmaster Flash's The Message (A-ha-ha-ha-ha it's like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder how I keep from going under). That's not even a laugh, it's a guy saying, "Ha Ha Ha."

So, I really think this album needs remastering, or maybe the SACD treatment, though that seems to have fallen out of favor.

But, by all means, you need this album if you like any of the following: French pop culture, psyche music, Beck's album Sea Change, or sexy music. You don't have to pretend to like Jacques Brel anymore!

Also, the cover is super hot, yes, but what I've always found most alluring about Jane Birkin here is her right foot, how it's cocked up like that.