Song of the Day: The French Inhaler

Edward Hopper, Nighthawks


Warren Zevon (1947-2003) never quite reaches the level of, say, Bob Dylan or Neil Young, but when he's at his best, he really is hard to beat. And with The French Inhaler, he delivers a heartfelt melancholic melody with first rate lyrics.

All these people with no home to go home to throws you back to Eleanor Rigby, with exactly the same feeling of not-belonging-anywhere, but from there on Zevon's path differs from Paul McCartney's:

They'd all like to spend the night with you
Maybe I would, too.

And then, who can do better than:
And your face looked like something
Death brought with him in his suitcase

- when the lights went on, he looked at the lady he admired just a few hours ago, and he didn't like what he saw.

Your pretty face - It looked so wasted - Another pretty face - Devastated.

This is not benignly absurd like in The Eagles' Hotel California - Warren Zevon shows us the other face of sunny California, down and out and heart broken, as in a Bukovski novel. Of all people, Glen Frey and Don Henley sing heavenly harmonies and this dark ballad.

I never quite guessed who or what the French Inhaler is - someone who took Zevon's wife? (I always heard "he stamped and nailed her", instead of "mailed her".) According to his son Jordan this is a 'fuck you' song delivered to Warren Zevon's wife Tule Livingston after she left him. Or it could be slang for fellatio, which also fits the mood of the song. The lady's not made for working, and all she can do is put herself up for sale.

The songs is, however, more than its lyrics. Zevon's piano, singing and orchestration is deeply moving, up to the last uttered words. Not quite "the horror, the horror", not the world ending "not with a bang, but with a whimper", but simply, "So long, Norman". But no less moving. The songs fittingly ends with a kiss.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wo7nTsIkDV8


How're you going to make your way in the world, woman
When you weren't cut out for working
When your fingers are slender and frail
How're you going to get around
In this sleazy bedroom town
If you don't put yourself up for sale

Where will you go with your scarves and your miracles
Who's gonna know who you are
Drugs and wine and flattering light
You must try it again till you get it right
Maybe you'll end up with someone different every night

All these people with no home to go home to
They'd all like to spend the night with you
Maybe I would, too

But tell me
How're you going to make your way in the world, woman
When you weren't cut out for working
And you just can't concentrate
And you always show up late

You said you were an actress
Yes, I believe you are
I thought you'd be a star
So I drank up all the money,
Yes, I drank up all the money,
With these phonies in this Hollywood bar,
These friends of mine in this Hollywood bar

Loneliness and frustration
We both came down with an acute case
And when the lights came up at two
I caught a glimpse of you
And your face looked like something
Death brought with him in his suitcase

Your pretty face
It looked so wasted
Another pretty face
Devastated

The French Inhaler
He stamped and mailed her
"So long, Norman"
She said, "So long, Norman"

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