Songs are like postcards. Some have a lot of story squeezed into that small space on the back with hardly room for the stamps and others just an image on the face signed with love xxx. Minou was a simple love story sung in french and only now am I filling in the blank, the back story. A flag song that won me the grand final on a TV show called Star Search in the mid to late 80s pre-empting those monster you’ve-got-talent programs that now dominate over major labels. It was a song I wrote with a friend from Brittany who was our then bands photographer, Pierre Geslin. He took the ride with us thru the all our bumps and grinds as a young original band starting out in venues across Sydney. Living in adjoining flats in Bondi, 7 piece band (3 couples and a rotating drummer), the roadies, photographer and even our own Taekwondo master as a bodyguard. Minou was in our set list most nights and with the added weight of a great pianist and violinist gave me a solid platform to do my best, with what to most french speaking people thought was bad Italian. I’d loved and lost myself in Piaf. I lied about my age to witness the incredible talent Jeannie Lewis at the Eureka Hotel Geelong as a teenager and now wanted to try my own hand at writing a French torch song.
I learnt the lyrics phonetically as even with my 4 years in french class failed me. After Haiku broke up and we all went our separate ways. I decided to do Star Search. It was like The Voice, but in the 80’s everyone in the country tuned in to the same tv show, at the same time, on any given night. I’d grown up with shows like New Faces, Red Faces, and Pot of Gold if i was ever home sick from school and needed to feel even worse, watching that horrible man, Bernard King taking people apart.
In 1975, Hanlon stormed off the set mid-show after berating Bernard King for his withering appraisals of contestants.
King had awarded a female contestant “minus 5” out of a possible 50 marks and told her that she shouldn’t have wasted her money on singing lessons and would have done better to simply enter the Miss Australia Quest.
With the contestant fighting back tears, Hanlon announced to the live studio audience that he was quitting. But King hadn’t learned his lesson and soon afterwards had a jug of water poured over his head by a contestant he had incensed with his biting remarks.
Saturday nights we would tune into Young Talent Time and grimace as my mother would nitpick her way thru the contestants and i pitied anyone who sang the least bit flat or wore something she deemed inappropriate. She was a tough critic, a perfectionist which has probably served me in later years as my ear is so acute but alas she didn’t live that long to ever see me open my mouth to an audience, perhaps i was kindly spared. Maybe i was groomed to do this talent show schtick from such a young age. Unnatural almost and yet an obvious step learning the ropes in the deep end of television production. As I was way more invested in writing songs than playing covers, it really put me to the test seeking out the right fit for the heats kept rolling over as we careered toward the big play off. From Malcolm McLaren’s Madame Butterfly, Janis Joplin’s Cry Baby to Nina Hagen’s New York whilst sneaking in the odd original. i guess i didn’t think twice seeing that i’d sung in Japanese and hybrid German that French would be a problem. The crunch came when the Grand Final was slated and I presented the producers my original French song, Minou. I wanted to sing something that felt so familiar for the finale, something i could really own. They completely rejected the idea on the grounds it wasn’t commercial enough for their audience and to find an alternative. I left his office quite deflated and went directly to my friend in Bondi who owned a record store, a godsend when I needed help for song ideas. We spent ages dropping the needle on so many potentials, record after record he pumped the shop full of what ifs. I loved David Byrnes Life During War Time, ( what was i thinking???) which seemed appropriate for many reasons. I strapped myself in and learnt it till it felt like my own skin but somewhere knowing this wouldn’t be a good fit for the house band or myself to pull off convincingly.
After some deliberation I returned to the producer’s office and said ‘you either let me do the song of my choice or you don’t have a show?’ They reluctantly agreed and we worked it up with the house band with the added beautiful texture of 3 back up singers. We won. And it was the sweetest victory knowing how i’d had to fight for it and trust my gut. Fortunately contestants were judged by a panel of kind people from diverse fields in the industry plus an audience member keeping it fair and real.
All the contestants were established professionals – Star Search was not for bumbling amateurs. so unlike previous talent shows like New Faces, contestants were spared the indignity of assassination by the judges. -Nostalgia Central.
Sitting in the greenroom after the show opposite the woman who inspired me to follow this path, glued to GTK before the nightly news on our ABC. Renee Geyer was now pouring me some bubbles larger than life congratulating me on my win. So uncanny to be judged by the person that had inspired me as a shy teen, who penned poetry in her secret journals. That $20K prize money bought me a home recording set up and there I disappeared penning my debut album for the following year. ( i’ve attached the only version resurrected from old VHS tapes in storage damaged by life in the tropics).
MINOU - words by Pierre Geslin.
l aime son café noir
Avec un sucre et un croissant.
Déjà six heures du soir
Et moi, je cherche un amant.
La terrasse du café
Est pleine à craquer.
Paris, tu vie! Paris, tu crie!
Tu allumes une autre Gauloise
Et nos regards se croisent.
Un sourire, et il s’est levé
Comme un soleil d’été.
Tu avais la voix chaude
Et moi, je fis la minaude.
Je donnais à l’amour une trêve.
Depuis, tu hantes mes rêves!
L’acier des tours Lassé de l’amour.
Et moi, je me suis mise à pleurer.
Il pleut sur les Champs Elysées
Paris l’amour Paries, tu vie!
Paris, l’amour! Paris, tu crie.
I haven’t sung this song since Star Search, but as we have been invited on board for an upcoming festival Too Young To Be Angels, it seemed a great kick off point. Celebrating the newly renovated Drill Hall Theatre in Mullum showcasing an eclectic group of artists that are key players in the fabric of Byron. My show, Kiss & Tell is a memoir style performance and conversation. The inimitatable Angela Catterns has agreed to help prompt and probe.
I’d like to think we’re setting a scene where ‘something akin to magic’ could happen. I’ve reimagined some key songs from my musical life and we’ll feature the piano we’re raising funds for. Apart from that, I want to keep it unscripted, give Angela the wheel and be open and ready for any quick changes in direction. With a sprinkle of extra beauty from the “Little Tendrils” string players we’ll do some digging in the mud and swap some war stories.
i really hope to see you there
with love
Gyan
And what a special night it turned out to be. Thank you Gyan and Angela.
Hi Gyan, lovely to read your writing and about that special song and get a glimpse into your history ❤️