Oooooh I've been looking forward to this one. Il est temps pour Jacques Dutronc!

Even though he's inexplicably passed over in Wikipedia's "Music Of France" entry, Dutronc was one of France's two or three most popular French-language acts of the 1960s. Married to Francoise Hardy and a collaborator of Serge Gainsbourg, his debut album "Le Cactus" was a million-seller in 1966 and his career took off from there.

He is often likened to Ray Davies for his ironic songs and name-checked as part of the roots of Freakbeat. According to Bardot A Go Go, which also fills in some biographical details and links to lyrics of his witty and sarcastic songs:

What makes Dutronc great for many non-French speakers is the driving psychedelic sound of his rockin' tunes. The driving buzz saw guitar of Les gens sont fous les temps sont flous strips down The Kinks' You Really Got Me riff to a bare one note minimum with maxi affect.

RFIMusique nails the allure of Jacques Dutronc:

The singer's nonchalant stage persona and the ironic, almost insolent way in which he delivered his lyrics proved an instant hit with the French public who adored Dutronc's openly provocative style. Dutronc's sartorial elegance also made a great impact. In an age where most pop stars were growing hippy beards and dressing in Afghan coats and bell-bottom jeans, Dutronc's tailored suits and chic silk ties were guaranteed to make him stand out from the crowd.

Wow, kinda like (the stereotype of) France! Check out a few of his hip-swingin' tunes:

Jacques Dutronc - Les Gens Sont Fous, Les Temps Sont Flous.mp3
Jacques Dutronc - Les Cactus.mp3
Jacques Dutronc - J'ai Tout Lu, Tout Vu, Tout Bu.mp3

Slipcue has some recommendations for further listening.

Listening to his music, it's easy to imagine Dutronc ogling mini-skirted young women who in turn flirt with semi-shaven semi-showered strangely-hip Frenchmen. You know, the 60s existential France of Godard and Delon. In fact, I think I can see it right here:

Jacques Dutronc - Mini Mini Mini

Yep, that pretty much covers it.

Photo by Declan McCullagh

Ukraine, we have a personal problem. It's a damn shame since I myself am of Ukrainian ancestry. But I don't want to think about you.

Call Me Mickey has a bunch of Ukraine pop MP3s. I can't be bothered.
A Google search on "Ukraine" brings up Google Ads for Russian brides in the right column. Classy!
Jonathan Safran Foer's excellent Everything Is Illuminated takes place in the Ukraine. Pogroms and Nazi collaboration are part of the story.

After yesterday's unfortunate loss to France, it seems appropriate to show a sadder side of one of the Cup's participants. Carlos Paredes, "The Man With A Thousand Fingers," was the master guitarist of Fado, a traditional Portugese music that has its roots in Moorish times. Alternately playful and mournful, Fado evokes the country's strong relationship with the sea and its feudal past. Paredes himself was an exemplar of the form. The son of another Fado master, Artur Paredes, Paredes was himself something of a tragic figure: jailed in the 50s and 60s as a Communist sympathizer, and forced to spend the last eleven years of his life unable to play because of a nerve disorder. He passed away in 2004.

The first track is from Paredes' debut album called, naturally, Guitarra Portuguesa. The second is from his 1990 collaboration with Charlie Haden, recorded shortly before Paredes' disability ended his playing career.

Carlos Paredes - Divertimento.mp3
Carlos Paredes & Charlie Haden - Danca de Camponeses.mp3

Brazil is a country with two distinct musical sides. First, there's the elegantly sensual Brazil of samba and Getz/Gilberto. As easy to love as this is, the lazy-day saxophone and breathy vocals of "The Girl From Ipanema" are practically a cliche of an early 1960s space-age bachelor pad; as great as the performance is, you still I can't help thinking about wood paneling and cocktails from the living room wet bar. My friend Marc Time profiled Astrud Gilberto earlier this year and I will defer to his expertise in this matter.

Neverthless, the artists that have taken up this cause are still among Brazil's most popular mainstream musicians. One that I've glommed on to recently is Marisa Monte. She's has very few releases in the US, but is undoubtedly one of the country's top sellers. With a subtle and deceptively straightforward delivery, Monte's sudden flurries of expressiveness and her tasteful self-production make for some very tasty listening.

After being one of the country's biggest acts since the early '90s, Monte went into semi-retirement for the last five years and has now blasted out with two (count 'em: two!) excellent new albums. The first track below is from the more accessible and fun album, Universo Ao Meu Redor, which counts David Byrne among its guest stars. Infinito Particular is a more quiet and emotive affair, seemingly dedicated to songs about motherhood, the underlying reason behind her recent creative dormancy. I guess this makes her the John Lennon of Brazil.

Marisa Monte - O Bonde Do Dom.mp3
Marisa Monte - Vilarejo.mp3
Several Marisa Monte videos here

...and then there is the funky, dirty, party Brazil. Or a bunch of guys yelling about sex (or sounding like they are) over stripped-down beats and simple sample. Diplo has been the biggest proponent of Favela Booty Beats, pushing out three mixes since 2004. (Yes, two years ago is eons in music blogosphere time. Remember Arular?) When most casual football watchers hear that the Brazilian team "dances" as they play, they're probably thinking of music like Marisa Monte or Joao Gilberto. The nasty dirty secret of the squad, though, is that this is more like what they have on their mind.

MC Jack E Chocolate - Pavaroty.mp3 -- yes, the great Pavarotti!

If you like this, Cokemachineglow hosts Diplo's original Brazil Booty Beats mix, Favela On Blast. My friend Peter, an accomplished composer who uses notes and time signatures and fancy stuff like that, found himself totally paralyzed by his brush with Favela On Blast. "It's like a car crash and I can't turn away." Yes, but can you dance to a car crash?

After the dominant performance in the Group Round and with "The Hand Of God" as personal cheerleader, I figured Argentina was a sure thing for the Final. But always beware playing the home side!

Astor Piazzolla was the master of 20th century tango and one of its great composers -- touring, recording and composing ceaselessly for nearly 50 years before his death in 1992. He was about as close as you can get to a country having a National Musician; thankfully for Argentina and its musical reputation, Piazzolla was more Mozart than Salieri. (Or, to torture a simile, perhaps more Duke Ellington than Nelson Riddle.) Any description of Piazzolla's music seems to have the phrase "not your Grandfather's tango" attached, and really I have no idea what that means because I'm not sure I've heard much tango that's not by Piazzolla. I think what's being referred to was his triumph in getting tango out of the brothels and into concert halls & cafe society. I guess people don't think much of their grandfather's reputation.

Here are recordings of Piazzolla playing original compositions in two entirely different settings, the first with his nonet shortly before he passed away and the second a piece he commissioned for Kronos Quartet:

Astor Piazzolla - Milonga Del Angel.mp3
Kronos Quartet & Astor Piazzolla - Anxiety.mp3
Lots more Piazzolla and tango recordings are housed at piazzolla.org

Meanwhile, with Tango now the hoity-toity music of Argentina, Cumbia villera ("shantytown cumbia") is now the dominant popular music form among the underclass. According to Wikipedia, "Many bands were propelled into fame when emerging football stars from the shantytowns (such as Carlos Tévez) proclaimed their allegiance" so I guess this is what you might have heard if you walked into the Argentine locker room before the game.

Imagine gangsta rap played with Casiotones on the latin rhythm setting just al little too slow setting. You can hear several examples and read about the genre (in Spanish) at this site. And, as always, seek on YouTube and ye shall find.

Fahrn fahrn fahrn down the Infobahn! You have just two days left to bid on Kraftwerk's vocoder.

eBay: prototype VOCODER of german 70s Electronic Pioneers (item 300001522431 end time Jul-05-06 11:17:07 PDT)

Ecuador is one of several countries that completely bedeviled me as I've assembled the World Cup World Tour over the last few weeks. I'll just come right out and admit: On Ecuador, I got nothin'. Call Me Mickey has the right idea on this one, though: cop out! Christina Aguilera's father is from Ecuador. Maybe, just maybe, she has retained dual citizenship for tax purposes. Maybe Xtina -- via her tax contribution -- is one of the world's great contributors to preserving the Galapagos. Buy a Christina Aguilera album, save a turtle!

But seriously, Aguilera's new single is surprisingly kick-ass. One of the best things about the mash-up revolution has been the willingness of producers to again sound like our pop music heritage. "Ain't No Other Man" is less modern pop than it is a hyperactive re-casting of a traditional Girl Group song. My favorite part is the chorus, which gives a clear picture of three pop-princess Christina-alikes waving their fingers and moving their side-to-side hips in unison like a Motown girl group, flirtaciously beckoning "You've got style, you've got class..." It's thrilling and winning. Thank goodness she got away from Linda Perry.

Christina Aguilera - Ain't No Other Man.mp3

Los Brincos - Baila La Pulga.mp3
Los Salvajes - Las Ovejitas.mp3
These first two tracks are from Beat Espana, a compilation that a friend who used to live in Spain gave me. I've searched for information on this album, but come up absolutely nil. There are only three bands on the record-- Los Brincos, Los Salvajes and Los Cheyennes -- trading off tracks, one after the other. It sounds like 60s Merseybeat with the overriding problem that it's pretty awful. I don't mean Gerry-And-The-Pacemakers bad; I'm thinking more like Herman's-Hermits bad.

No more proof of Beat Espana's not-so-rightness is needed than this video of Los Brincos making a variety show lip-syncing appearance. The mop-topped band is performing a dull song called "Oh Mama." Normally you'd think that a song called "Oh Mama" would be about some hot chick. (Think Prince singing "Hot Thing"; you need not actually hear the song to know what it sounds like.) No, "Oh Mama" is really about Mamas -- thus, the band members are pushed around the set in baby carriages. By hot chicks. I'm not kidding. If you like a little Freudian conflict with your 60s pop, this is the video for you.

Mus - Al Debalu.mp3
Now this is more like it. Mus is another band about which I could find virtually nil. This track is taken from their second album El Naval. For those of you pining for another Mazzy Star album or the glory days of 4AD, this album is well worth your time to seek out. Understated and mysterious, you can check out more of their stuff at Epitonic.

Another country with music I know way too much about. Plus I work for Brits -- -- and I've got the challenge of trying to avoid rawther obvious use & abuse of Mojo's recent "50 Best British Songs" list. Hmm, better step carefully here.

OK, how 'bout:

Fairport Convention - Come All Ye.mp3
XTC - Respectable Street.mp3
Peter Sellers - A Hard Day's Night.mp3

Covered by these three songs: minstrelsy, "England's green fields," folk tradition, proto-prog, music hall, classism, comedy, post-war suburbia, Britpop Mark 1, art school, The frickin' Beatles, guys who want to sound like the frickin' Beatles, post-punk, post-punk pop, eccentrics that can't tour because of stage fright.

Things missed: Manchester, Madchester, bedsit, immigration & imperial fallout, Britpop Mark 2, punk, prog proper, Victoria Beckham and her friends, Pop Idol, mods, rockers, The frickin' Stone Roses.

Well, I tried. I'll meet you at the Cemetry Gates.

All props to the plucky Socceroos! Italy is leading a charmed life.

Here is something I've been wanting to know for a long time. I lived in Los Angeles during the great mid-80s PR push for Australian pop; Australia was the Seattle/Montreal/Omaha of the moment. (Midnight Oil! Men At Work! InXS! Aaaaargh!) One of these new import bands -- I believe it was Mental As Anything? -- was offered by KROQ as a contest prize to come to your house do your yardwork if you won. I always loved the image of these guys getting off their tour bus at some San Fernando valley tract home and being ordered to cut the lawn and haul the trash by some 14-year old.

Was this real? Did the band actually show up? Were they hung over? Please if you know anything about this, I'm dying to know. Suffice to say, Mental As Anything did not make much of an impact in the US. (...and, wow, what an awful band name. I can only imagine the discussion in the record company board room: "We need a band like Men At Work!" "How about Mental As Anything?" "Never heard 'em, but sign 'em!" This did happen back in the day: A-Ha was signed because of the band's photogenic looks without the record company ever having heard their music.)

The Church - Too Fast For You.mp3
Long before the wonderful but overplayed "Under The Milky Way," The Church already had their sound and aesthetic down pat. They made several great records and are still putting out moody albums, but if you live in the US, you'd never know it.

Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds (with Kylie Minogue) - Where The Wild Roses Grow.mp3
Extracted from the vaguely insane "Murder Ballads" album, this is easily one of the creepiest records I've heard, not least because in listening to it I'm forced to imagine Nick & Kylie's love life.

The Saints - (I'm) Misunderstood.mp3
"(I'm) Stranded" was the hit -- and possibly the finest single out of the first wave of punk, but it's been profiled by World Cup bloggers elsewhere. At least I go with the "(I'm)" in the title by selecting this tune.

Two very different types of dance music compose my last entry covering a Group Round knockout:

Saban Bajramovic - Hanuma.mp3
Saban is known as the "World of Gypsy Music." Why? Because Indira Gandhi dubbed him so! Yugoslavia's leading artist in the 1960s, he has apparently gone missing after the former republic's turbulent '90s. "Legend also has it that Gypsies respect and love Tito the most, Saban second and then, after ten empty places, once again Saban." More on Saban's incredible story here.
UPDATE: Saban is still out there doing his thing. Here is an account of a performance last month in London: ROMA ROMA: Saban!

dZihan & Kamien - Stiff Jazz.mp3
d & K hail from Sarajevo, but moved to Vienna to study music after the hometown fell into a bit of chaos last decade; you may have heard something about this. Hmmm, that looks suspiciously like K&D. As well it should, as dZhihan & Kamien specialize in the same feckless yet pleasant and popular pseudo-jazz that their Austrian mates Kruder & Dorfmeister specialize in. I'm always torn whether to like this kind of music; it's easy to enjoy and the playing is strong, but I tire of it as an indicator of Big-Money Cool at boutique hotels and high-end restaurants. I swear the W Hotel hasn't changed the CD it plays at the bar in seven years, or since I first heard this genre as Business Manager for the ill-fated club-music magazine, Revolution.

Though they are allegedly embarassed by it, the biggest music in Poland these days is Disco Polo, a weird hybrid of vulgarized folk songs (Wikipedia's definition, not mine) and the very worst in Eurodisco. An MP3 doesn't quite get it across; you've got to see it for the full effect. Thus, I'm forced into posting my first video in the World Cup World Tour, "Jesteś Szalona PV" by Boys, apparently the biggest act in the genre. Yikes.

Boys - Jesteś Szalona PV

More fabulous Disco Polo videos here

Daphne Carr is the US's biggest authority(!) on Disco Polo, having presented an paper on it at last year's EMP Live. She wrote recently in The Village Voice about Brooklyn's burgeoning Polish nightclub scene. If you're looking for a big Disco Polo dance night, Greenpoint's the spot.

Paraguay is surprisingly absent from the Internet. Hardly any pictures. No music. Wikipedia's entry on "Music of Paraguay" mentions more reggaeton artists from Puerto Rico than anything native. The first few pages of a Google Images search on its capitol, Asuncion, returns a large proportion of pictures of a local Mormon temple. I am indebted to Call Me Mickey for finding something, anything.

Agustin Barrios - Los Indios Paraguayos.mp3

Random thoughts on a day of defeat:

Isn't it appropriate that I have the US entry following the Saudi entry? We'll follow those guys anywhere. (rimshot) I'll be here all the week, don't forget to tip the waitresses.

Rant coming: If people get so upset about American flag-burning, why is it OK to wear Old Glory as a bandana or a T-shirt or facepaint or a bikini top or a towel or...? I am always shocked when I see alleged patriots displaying old faded flags, flags touching the ground, faded flag bumper stickers, flags left out at night, unlit... It's fundamentally wrong and easy to see & know that it's wrong. When the military has elaborate routines about how the flag should be hung, folded and destroyed with honor, surely my fellow citizens should easily see that wadding up their faded American flag t-shirt and throwing it on the bedroom floor or drooling ice cream on it is disrespective and certainly not patriotic. Am I wrong in thinking that the people who are most likely to "wear the flag" are closely related or perhaps even the same people who get so upset over flag desecration? Shouldn't proposed constitutional amendments banning flag-burning also cover bikinis?

Which is all just a way of working to this next thought: When I see people from other nations at the World Cup wearing their national colors, I usually think "Wow, that's so great that they have such spirit." On the other hand, if I see a bunch of Americans with stars and stripes painted on their faces or chests or whatever, I'm embarassed. Am I wrong to feel shame? Or would it be worse to be at the stadium and not proudly display the colors?

My colleague Simon over at My Name Is Betty, who has some pretty great World Cup music coverage going himself, heard this same complaint from me and responded "As for the people in national dress, you're embarrassed? English national dress seems to be a shaved head and a beer gut, maybe a novelty hat. I'm fortunate to live in London though - my street alone has Ghanaian, Trinidadian, English, Australian, Portuguese, Italian and even Jamaican flags out, and it wouldn't take me too long to gather the rest. It's good fun, every four years doesn't come often enough." It must be nice to live in a place where immigrants are considered pluses.

I worked for a Frenchman for a number of years and he told me several times how amazing he thought it was that there so many flags displayed in America. I plead ignorance until we looked out at the view from North Beach and, sure enough, every building in downtown SF was flying the colors. It was shocking to really see this, and this was long before 9/11. It's nice to be patriotic, sure, but it looked more neurotic than anything else, like the old saw that nothing is Cool that has to continually tell you it's Cool.

And now to the task at hand. It's completely ridiculous to try to sum up my home country's rich musical tapestry in a couple of songs. Just think of the musical forms that are indigenous and original to the US: rap, jazz, surf, tin pan alley, musical theatre, blues, country... When I think of how my "World Cup World Tour" is trying to put this same straightjacket on 31 other countries, it brings home that I've taken on an enormous task with at best well-meaning chutzpah and at worst total arrogance. (And doesn't that make me so quintessentially American?) But just to be clear, I'm not trying to sum up or size up countries or their musical output with just a couple of songs, but simply trying introduce a taste of the musical life that floats through each nation's cultural aether. Hey, I can try, right?

So in that spirit, I offer for the United States its greatest living songwriter ruminating on natural disaster & cultural collision and two of its most rockin' clown princes having a cultural collision and just being silly. Enjoy.

Bob Dylan - High Water (For Charley Patton).mp3
Jon Spencer Blues Explosion with Rufus Thomas - Chicken Dog.mp3

Insult to injury: There was no baseball on the night after the US-Ghana game.