Texas in Paris | Brad Spurgeon's Blog

The Transformation of Baptiste W. Hamon, From Texas to Paris

December 11, 2011
bradspurgeon

baptiste w hamon

Last night I had a wonderful brief break from the usual whatever to go and listen to a friend, Baptiste Hamon, play a short show at a bar called the Red House, not far from the Bastille in Paris. I have mentioned Baptiste over the last couple of years occasionally on this blog under the name usually of his band Texas in Paris. Baptiste writes cool, Dylan-like, Guthrie-like, Townes Van Zandt-like songs with sober, sombre lyrics and strong emotion mixed with a highly distinctive voice and delivery. Last night I was invited to attend the launch concert for his cassette of new songs – yes cassette, tape cassette! – and what I found was a wonderful, interesting surprise. Baptiste has grown as an artist.

The launch was for a cassette he has put out on a very small independent label in France called Midnight Special Records. There was another singer at the Red House bar too, but I came in just as she sang her final words. So I missed that. But Baptiste went up as soon as I arrived so I caught his whole set. Suddenly, as I was being served a beer at the bar, I heard Baptiste singing in French. Wow! Before I had a chance to take the beer I whipped out my Zoom Q3HD recorder and began to shoot the song, since I thought it was a rare and unusual chance to catch Baptiste singing in French. Turned out I was wrong. During his set of six or so songs, Baptiste sang only one in English.

The rest were a new crop of songs he has written in the last few months, and they were a fabulous surprise. Basically, to try to sum it up, Baptiste writes excellent poetic songs in English. And he is far from the only non-native English speaker to do that. It is happening all over the world. But how much of the stuff really breaks out? The Tallest Man on Earth from Sweden is similar. Abba, not at all. Bands from all over the world try English. It just never seems to take off or doing anything much of importance, no matter how good it is.

But what I found Baptiste doing last night was to do EXACTLY what he has always done in English, but to do it in French. And that brought out even more originality in what is already an original writing and sound. Baptiste continues to sing about the U.S. dream he lives and follows, but he does it in a non-fake sentimental way and in his own language. There he was singing a ballad to Townes Van Zandt, for God’s sake.

Apparently the French think he has changed his style, and sounds closer to something like Jacques Brel or some other classic French singers. But for me this is the same Baptiste, he’s just finding more precision in what he sings, and its a step closer to who he really is than what was already something very fine before. Oh, and with these songs he is no longer calling himself Texas in Paris, but simply Baptiste W. Hamon….

Tallest Man on Earth at the Ptit Bonheur la Chance

February 10, 2011
bradspurgeon

I was ALMOST overtaken by lethargy in the last couple of days. Don’t know why, but after not having time to post yesterday I almost decided not to post today. In fact, I attended an open mic both days, and as I look through the videos I realize the strongest story of the two days of open mics has to do with The Tallest Man on Earth at the Ptit Bonheur la Chance open mic on Tuesday, rather than anything that happened at the nevertheless excellent Highlander open mic last night.

So what is all this about the Tallest Man on Earth? Well, The Tallest Man on Earth is the name of a Swedish folk singer who is of normal height and born in 1983. His real name is Kristian Matsson.

Now why am I talking about this? Well, no, he did not come to Ollie’s open mic. But what was unusual was that two musicians who were, one of whom was from France but who has a Swedish parent as well as a French parent, and the other musician being from the United States and spending time in France, both did different songs by this same artist who is really not THAT well known.

So it was that Corey sang “King of Spain,” by The Tallest Man on Earth, and Fanny Batt sang another of this singer songwriter’s songs. Great stuff from both of them.

Almost forgot. I cannot leave out this unusual rendition also at Ollie’s open mic of Whole Lotta Love, by Led Zep… sung by a woman, Alice…. Very cool idea and performance.

P.S., in listening to the Tallest Man on Earth on his myspace I realize that I heard this guy a few months ago for the first time after someone recommended him, and of course I was struck by how he sounded like young Bob Dylan a little, or even like in the same vein as today’s Texas in Paris.

Zara, Ollie and Texas in Paris at the Highlander

December 2, 2010
bradspurgeon

It was Wednesday, so it was the Highlander. I had been intending to sign up early at the Highlander, and then run over to the Tennessee to see Rafa and his band, with Les DeShane on lead. But in the end, I immediately signed up for the Highlander and met a newcomer, Zara Sophia, from England, so I just had to sit and talk and learn about her, as I had a feeling that she might have some talent.

How can one have that feeling? No idea. But I did, in fact, enjoy immensely what Zara did, so give it a listen and see if you agree – in the video below.

It was a great night with Ollie Fury doing a great song of his, with wonderful fingerpicking, and his rich voice. And one of the best moments of the whole night, unfortunately for the audience, ended up being last: Texas in Paris. Baptiste of Texas in Paris is the guy who hosted the Thanksgiving evening of music at the Disquaires last week, and he decided to come around and sing three of his songs. Fabulous. If only he had not been scheduled last, or if only the crowd had stuck around for his original sound….

I played three songs, and weirdly, oddly, bizarrely, found myself destroying my song “Since You Left Me,” by placing words in the wrong place, changing words and going mad with the realization – and trying to hold the whole thing together anyway as if it was all being done the way it is supposed to be. What fun!

Happy World, Sad World, Mad World, at the Disquaires and Baroc

November 26, 2010
bradspurgeon

I started playing music in public again two years ago this month after decades away because of two main reasons: One is simply the pleasure and catharsis I feel in performing, in singing and playing, and in communicating with an audience through that. The other is in the compliments and applause I receive from an audience, when I have done a good job. Both took me by surprise two years ago when I started playing again, and both failed me last night!

Nothing too serious here, but I really let myself down last night at Les Disquaires by not feeling deeply enough into my own music – for several reasons – and just simply not being prepared. But that is ultimately the beauty of live musical performance. When you are not a performer you don’t often realize how much the same performer’s quality of performing can go up or down depending on the day. In other words, there are some good days and some bad days. That IS the reality and beauty of live.

Yesterday I had been looking forward to playing in Thanksgiving concert night at the Disquaires that was organized by my friend Baptiste, of Texas in Paris. It was planned well in advance, and I had already played at two or three of his evenings in the past couple of years at the Disquaires and it had gone very well each time. But for many reasons last night I ended up feeling like absolute crap and did what I thought was a lousy job. One of the main reasons – and this is no real excuse – is that I suddenly found myself having to play immediately after David Broad, and just after I videoed his wonderful performance that got the whole house going quite mad. I had not realized I was going to play after him, and I was not ready. In fact, I had not even selected my songs.

I will say nothing more about that, just check out the David Broad videos below that I did of him last night, and you will see how I could feel like my back was against the wall. I played my song Borderline, and I played Mad Word. In fact, with Broad, it was a happy world, with me it was a sad world, and then I decided to get out of the Disquaires as quickly as possible to go to another venue where I had been invited to play, and it truly became a mad world….

The other venue was Le Baroc, in Belleville. My friend Les DeShane was playing there doing a full gig and he invited me to show up to play two or three songs. I was so pissed off with myself about the Disquaires that I thought the best remedy would be to play again immediately. But when I got to the Baroc, I learned from Les that he had been double booked. He had invited a bunch of friends, other musicians, brought his equipment and he found as he arrived that another band was setting up to play for the night.

He managed to get the management to realize that it had made an error, and so he managed to get up there and play his gig while the other band sat in the back waiting all night for its turn. The result, however, was that the special invited guests – like me – did not get a chance to play. And unfortunately, I arrived so late that I even missed Les’s set. My evening was saved, however, by an intriguing young blond woman who was there intently watching all the musicians play and who told me in French that I was “tres beau,” and that I reminded her of someone who should be in the FBI, that I looked like an FBI agent…. On the other hand, she made it clear that she would be on the other side of the fence, the one the agents would be hunting, the bad girl. Oops, did I not say it was a mad world?

A P.S. update: I just heard back after posting this that after my performance at the Disquaires there were a number of people who said, “Who is that guy?” And they had, it turned out, enjoyed my performance. So that is also another phenomenon about performance that is very curious: The performer’s own perception of what he does and how he comes across is NOT always the most accurate, and sometimes when you think you totally blew it, you didn’t. Suffice it to say that I felt I could have done a lot better!