Pigalle - Regards Affliges Sur La Morne Et Pitoyable Existence De Benjamin Tremblay, Personnage Falot Mais O Combien Attachant (LP)

There is a special kind of Paris that lives between the bar-room accordion and the back-alley shout, and Pigalle always seemed to have the keys to it. Regards Affligés Sur La Morne Et Pitoyable Existence De Benjamin Tremblay, Personnage Falot Mais Ô Combien Attachant is the band at full tilt, tugging punk spirit through old-world musette and street chanson until it frays in all the right places. François Hadji-Lazaro leads with that unmistakable growl and a collector’s stash of instruments, and the result feels like a clutch of smoky vignettes about a poor sod named Benjamin Tremblay who can’t help being lovable even as life keeps nudging him into the gutter.

Pigalle’s trick has always been tension. Guitars drive hard but the accordion keeps waltz time. A fiddle or hurdy-gurdy will saw away at the edges while the rhythm section stomps like a pub floor at closing. You get the bite of the French alternative scene and the romance of a Montmartre night, not as postcard kitsch but as lived-in grime. These songs don’t sit politely. They lean in. Hadji-Lazaro’s voice carries the weary humour of a cab driver who has seen a thousand sunrises from the wrong side, and he tells each scene with the kind of detail that makes you smell the rain on the cobbles.

What makes this record land isn’t novelty. It’s the craft. Pigalle know when to let a tune swell with breathy reeds and when to snap it shut with a sharp snare hit. Waltzes slide into two-step shuffles, then back again. The dynamics feel like theatre, which suits a character study. You can picture Benjamin nursing a cheap red at the zinc counter, then tumbling into a half-speed lament where the accordion wheezes like an old radiator. The band never loses touch with melody either. Even the roughest tracks carry hooks you’ll hum while you wash the dishes.

Hadji-Lazaro, who co-founded Boucherie Productions and did as much as anyone to give France’s outsider rock its own lane, brings that label’s DIY heart to the sonics. There’s air in the room. You hear fingers on strings and the bellows breathing. It sounds more like a small stage than a studio, which suits Pigalle down to the ground. Nothing here is glossy, yet it’s not careless. The arrangements are tight, and the way the instruments interlock shows a band that plays to serve the story.

French lyrics can be a barrier if you’re new to Pigalle, but the performances carry meaning even if you’re reading along with a translation. There’s gallows humour and tenderness, often in the same verse. You catch the shrug before the punchline. When the tempo lifts, you feel the little win Benjamin scores. When it falls away, you feel the hangover. That blend of grit and empathy is why this album became a quiet favourite among fans of the scene. It isn’t a museum piece. It breathes like a night out that went longer than planned.

For those thinking about format, this is a record that really earns its groove space. If you stumble on Pigalle vinyl, grab it. Regards Affligés Sur La Morne Et Pitoyable Existence De Benjamin Tremblay vinyl lets the lows thump and the reeds bloom in a way streaming rarely does. The crackle sits nicely against those acoustic textures too. If you trawl a Melbourne record store or keep an eye on vinyl records Australia listings, this title pops up less often than the band’s more obvious entry points, but that only adds to the thrill. And if you prefer to play it safe and buy Pigalle records online, set an alert and be patient. Pigalle albums on vinyl have a habit of vanishing as quickly as they appear.

The album sits in a sweet spot in the group’s run, old enough to carry the rough charm of their beginnings and confident enough to push their folk-punk recipe into something narrative and tender. It doesn’t shout for attention, which might be why it still feels fresh. You put it on for a song or two, then find yourself flipping the side while the kettle boils, then sitting back down because the closing track pulls you right back into Benjamin’s orbit. That’s the mark of a keeper. It makes its own little world, then invites you in for another round.