I saw him in concert last Friday. Grand Corps Malade (GCM for short), literally “tall sick body”: I will wager that no one who is not French or does not live in France (or Romandy, Wallonia, Luxembourg, or Quebec) has heard of him. GCM is the stage name of slam poet-lyricist-performer Fabien Marsaud, who has had a solid following in the Francophone world since bursting onto the music scene in 2006 but is entirely unknown outside that world (as to why that is the case is an open question). I had never heard of GCM myself before seeing the (terrific) 2017 movie ‘Patients’, which was nominated for four César awards (including best film). Borrowing from my AWAV post dated 20 February 2018:
(…) [Patients], which is based on co-director Marsaud’s best-selling 2012 book of the same title, is autobiographical, of Marsaud’s accident in 1997, at age 20, of diving into the shallow end of a swimming pool, which left him a partial tetraplegic, and of his time in a physical rehab center near Paris—where the film was shot—and where, against all odds, he managed to regain most of his motor functions (he now walks with a cane). (…) Marsaud [as depicted in the film] was an amateur basketball player and all-around athletic type when the accident happened, with it becoming rather obvious that he would not be able to pursue his sporting passions, regardless of his physical condition once he left the center. Marsaud thus found a new career, as a slam poet-singer, adopting the stage name Grand Corps Malade… which is how he is known to the public. I am ashamed to admit that I was not familiar with his music before seeing the film. I am now and can assert that it is great, and particularly the film’s theme score, Espoir adapté (with Anna Kova). Now tell me this is not a terrific song! It literally moves me to tears … Other great songs by GCM I have discovered this week: Funambule [Tightrope walker], Au feu rouge (on refugees fleeing to Europe; very powerful), and Je viens de là (on being from the banlieue). There are more. I am a fan, point barre.
As one may surmise, GCM’s slam poetry is heavily driven by social themes and references to, and celebrations of, the diversity of French society—GCM hailing from Paris’ immigrant-populated, Global South-origin northern banlieues. Politically speaking, it is a safe bet that he is the 180° opposite of Eric Zemmour and anyone in public life who carries the name Le Pen, and that he is well to the left of Emmanuel Macron. Though declaring myself a GCM fan back in ’18, I can’t say that I followed him closely or listened to much of his music over the subsequent six years. But when I saw on the internet one night last December that GCM would be in concert at the Zénith the following March, and with the least expensive tix at a bargain €35, I reflexively bought two, assuming that my wife would not only come with me but be happy to see GCM live.
Erroneous assumption, as not only did she inform me that she is not at all a fan of GCM but would be out of town on the day of the concert. And when I asked my daughter, the response was likewise: not a fan and would in any case be busy packing that evening for a transcontinental trip the next day, so: sorry but no. I then asked a dozen friends, friends of friends, and in-laws if they’d be interested in seeing GCM with me and for free—my treat!—but the replies were all the same: “sorry, not a fan,” “thanks but I’ll pass,” or “ce n’est pas mon truc GCM” (GCM is not my thing). Ben alors!
Now I am well aware, as we all are, that everyone has her/his music tastes, music that I like will not necessarily be by friends with whom I am otherwise on the same page on just about everything else of significance, but this was a categorical near 100% rejection by a critical mass of persons I know (with but one, a friend of my daughter’s, who’s a fan of GCM, but she lives down in the Alps, alas). So I decided that I would go to the Zénith early and try to sell both tickets there and forget about the whole thing, but failed in that too! After unloading one for €10 to a shady type who was clearly not going to the concert—I have no idea what he did with it, as the seats were numbered—I went inside to attend the concert all by myself, surely the only solo mid-Boomer in the entire arena.
And I’m glad I did. Totally. The arena was full to capacity (6,200), and this was the first of three sold-out GCM concerts at the Zénith, which is the third largest indoor concert venue in the Paris region—after the Paris-La Défense Arena (40K, where I saw Bruce Springsteen last May) and the Accor Paris-Bercy Arena (20K).
GCM clearly has a dedicated, enthusiastic following—Millennials and Gen-Zers in the great majority, which is normal—of fans who have likely seen him numerous times. There was a complicity between him and the audience, with which he interacted throughout, and who laughed along with his references and inside jokes. The event began toward 8:20, with the opening act, Nikola, a Franco-Montenegrin from Besançon previously unknown to me, who wasn’t too bad. GCM and his band came out toward 9:00, with GCM announcing that most of the concert would be from his latest album, “Reflets” (released last October; thus his present Reflets Tour around France and neighboring Francophone cities). Needless to say, I was utterly unfamiliar with the album and had heard none of the songs on it.
The verdict: It is very good! I like it! I was favorably impressed! And thanks to Spotify, I have been listening to it since. The concert setlist has yet to be posted but the one from GCM’s March 15th concert in Geneva has, and it looks to be much the same: all twelve songs from the Reflets album and eight earlier ones (most of which I recognized). Here are a few from the album that I particularly like, beginning with the beautiful “Retiens les rêves,” which IMHO is the best.
The opening track on the album, “J’ai vu de la lumière” (I saw the light), on being in the doldrums after his life-changing accident and then discovering his new vocation.
“C’est aujourd’hui que ça se passe”: Today is the day it happens!
“2083”: On what the world will look like after six more decades of unchecked climate change. Nightmarish.
“Le Jour d’après” (The day after), this with English subtitles, recounts the terrible tragedies that befell three persons but that fueled their determination to recover and live life to the fullest.
“Rue La Fayette”: At a red light one rainy September night, GCM sees a couple in a café who look like they’re breaking up, having their last drink together.
“Je serai là”: I will always be there for you.
Here are some of the other songs GCM played, all of which were hits. “Mais je t’aime” with Camille Lellouche is GCM’s biggest by far. Nice song though not my favorite.
Second place in the GCM hit parade is “Derrière le brouillard” (Behind the fog), with Louane.
“Nos plus belles années” (Our best years), with Kimberose, is the third biggest hit.
“Mesdames”: GCM pays homage to women, apologizing in the name of the male gender for patriarchy and the generally poor behavior of men toward women in the course of human history. The lead track in the eponymous 2020 hit album, entirely comprised of duets with different chanteuses (including the above three). An always timely theme in this #MeToo era, most lately for me with the smash hit Italian movie I saw two days ago.
“Romeo kiffe Juliette”: Romeo and Juliette are 16-year-old lovebirds in a banlieue cité, but he’s Muslim and she’s Jewish, so it’s obviously impossible. A hit song from 2010. N.B. the verb “kiffer” is a banlieue/young people’s slang substitute for “aimer” (to like or love).
“Inch’Allah” (Inshallah), with Algerian raï singer Reda Taliani. GCM didn’t do this one at the concert but I’m posting it anyway, pourquoi pas?
So it was a good concert! I’m glad I bought the tix, even if one was wasted. As for the friends who declined my generous invitation: Your loss! Tant pis pour toi! I was disappointed, however, that GCM only performed for around an hour and 45 minutes, which seemed short to me. Cf. Bruce Springsteen, who went for 2 hours 52 minutes last May, and Taylor Swift, who regularly goes for 3 hours, as in her Eras Tour concert movie (disclosure: I’m a Swiftie, and a 68-year-old male one at that). But a friend and my daughter told me that an hour-and-a-half to two hours is par for the course, and that the marathon concerts of The Boss and Taylor are the exception, not the rule. D’accord, si vous le dites.
Oh wow, I adore GCM. I would have loved to see this concert. Thanks for reminding me of him. Now, off to go see if I can finally get some of his stuff on the iTunes store…