French electro-disciple duo Saint Van Saint, better known for their 1998 dabble into the annals of Eurovision history, are actually one of the Massif Central's greatest exports.
They burst onto the electro-pop scene in 1995 with all the colour, light and energy of a 300 candlepower torch, like a French God-fearing Kraftwerk. Thaddeus James and Bartholomew John were soon entertaining the population of the greater Haute-Loire region with their keytars, minimoogs and "beats so meaty you'll partake in graffiti". The actual translation isn't great but the sentiment is there.
Refusing to conform to all expected stereotypes, the two shunned a quiet childhood growing up in their respective parents vineyards, crushing grapes with their bare feet and making cheese on the side. They just needed the hand of fate to visit them in the way only hands of fate can. It came knocking. In the summer of 1982 James suffered an horrific accident, and it was this which would ultimately lead to the veritable paradigm shift in the course of French music history. In what seemed like a harmless jape Batholomew challenged Thaddeus to inhale thirty-one helium balloons in five minutes. Only seven balloons in and James' voice was altered permanently. When his voice finally broke at the age of twenty it took on the now infamous robotic timbre. It was with this haunting man-machine tonebox that some of the greatest French electro-house would be sung.
Saint Van Saint donned instruments and became an overnight success, appearing on such national TV favourites as 'Vendredi Soir avec Gérard Depardieu' and 'Le Top, Le Pops'. No more would the French peoples have to endure the ridicule of a below par music scene. Sure, we had heard of 'Michel Michel et les Chanteurs Rouges de Poissons' but Celine Dion is actually Canadian and who was this Debussy lad they kept banging on about and putting on our mix tapes when we weren't looking? (as if we wouldn't notice).
The two had been brought up within creationist families who took particular offence to geologists, vulcanologists and the like. So it is no surprise that their strict creationist doctrine made for some interesting musical themes. 'Sur le Lapin' is a tasty anti-evolutionary rant verging on a musical take on Kipling's Just So Stories. The metallic vocals ring out over a synth/bass fusion so meat-based that, as promised, it would indeed make even the strongest willed at least scrawl something on a wall with a bic, and the meekest immediately purchase spray paint by the crate. The lyrics leave you equally without doubt where the heart of Saint Van Saint lies. Sur le Lapin itself is a great example - '...les oreilles du lapin sont un signe de puissance divine de dieux' or 'the ears of the rabbit are a sign of a divine god'.
1994 saw the release of their long-awaited first album 'Évoluez ce M. Darwin' or 'Evolve this Mr Darwin'. The first single released was the catchy 'Les Fossiles Ils Disent Le Non!' or 'The Fossils Say No!'. With reckless abandon and an innocence the like of which had never before been seen Thaddeus' spoken word epic exclaims '...like the rocks of the earth your face is unscathed and youthful'. Romantic, if nonsensical.
Performed live each song tended to descend into utter synth chaos and improvised rants. The favourite was 'Le Septième Jour il a Fait Votre Maman' or 'On the Seventh Day He Made Yo' Mama' in which Bartholomew would turn his Yamaha PSR 1110 on to 'demo' and improvise over the top using 'Orchestral Hit' (that one that sounds like a dog barking) for the melody. Not since Yes' 'Owner of a Lonely Heart' has that technique been used with such aplomb.
Despite the huge public following Saint Van Saint were not comfortable in the spotlight and quickly realised they would have to leave France to re-discover what it was that got them playing music in the first place. SVS chose to tour the lands that time forgot, Liechtenstein, Andora and Wales, before finally choosing to settle in Luxembourg. It was here in the unlikeliest of places and under the tutelage of Lux superstar Louis le Pasteur that they found music again. This time the music was breezy electro-pop, the politics were left to the infirm and the dress code was strictly smart casual.
Saint Van Saint had come of age.
In 1998 in what would have been an almost unthinkable move less than two years previously, the group entered the Eurovision Song Contest on behalf of Luxembourg. With their new sound firmly honed their choice of song was highly indicative of the massive strides they had made in such a short time. 'Na na na. Pop Pourquoi?' may seem on the face of it yet another ephemeral pop sing-along. For those who read deeper it was in fact a subtle dissection of the role of music in popular culture. Just listen to the lyrics - 'Pop pourquoi? Parce que, parce que'. It seemed that on the most unlikely of stages the duo had mellowed, found their niche and were finally at peace with themselves. The fact that Saint Van Saint went to score a final total of 'douze points', all awarded by the people of France, tells its own story.
In a triumphant return to French soil the pair were welcomed off the plane by then premier Jacques Chirac, who asked them to play a set at the home of Electro-House - Disneyland Paris. Following said gig the duo were immortalised forever by being conducted into the UNICEF sponsored 'It's a Small World' hall of fame. The pair's miniature doubles are to this day situated next to the clog stomping Dutch, just before the waffle munching miniature Belgians, and do their bit for world peace by singing out the shrill message for the children of the world.
They still perform to this day. You can catch them performing during the winter season in the 'Main Street' parade, daily on the half hour between 8:30 and 10pm.
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