Comme d’habitude

I got an email alert about a guy, David Lister, who went to a show by The Ukelele Orchestra of Great Britain. They did a joke segment they called “plagiarism”. It’s pretty clever. Here it is:

Only thing is, there is no joke. And, as with every other form of entertainment, parody is not plagiarism.

It all started with this fella, Claude Francois wrote a melody called Comme d’habitude. It was a pretty piece. He got a fella named Jacques Revaux to put some lyrics to it. The original version’s lyrics were about a strained relationship. They go something like this ( pardon the bad Google translation ):

I get up
And I’ll upsets
You do not wake up, As usual
I back you on the sheet
I fear that you have cold, As usual
My hand caresses your hair
Almost despite myself, As usual
But you turn your back on me, As usual

Then I get dressed quickly
I leave the room, As usual
All alone I drink my coffee
I’m late, As usual
Quietly I leave the house
Everything is gray outside,As usual
I’m cold
I raise my neck, As usual

As usual
All day
I’ll pretend play
As usual
I’ll smile
As usual
I’ll even laugh
As usual
Finally I will live
As usual

And then the day will go
I will return, As usual
You will exit
And not back yet, As usual
All alone I will go to bed
In this cold bed, As usual
My tears I hide, As usual

As usual
Even the night
I’ll pretend play
As usual
You come home
As usual
I’ll wait
As usual
You smile at me
As usual

As usual
You undress
As usual
You lie
As usual
They embraced
As usual

Sorta strikes me as a song about someone who’s struggling day to day with finding anything meaningful. I know the feeling.

Bowie chanced upon the song and decided to put some English lyrics to it. His idea basically went nowhere. Then, someone else came up with the same idea. Paul Anka had also heard the song. He was hanging out with Frank Sinatra, and the story is Frank was pondering retiring, but wanted Anka to write a song for him. So, Anka, armed with Claude Francois’ melody, put “Frank” words to the song:

And now the end is near
So I face the final curtain
My friend, I’ll say it clear
I’ll state my case of which I’m certain

I’ve lived a life that’s full
I’ve traveled each and every highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way

Regrets, I’ve had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exception

I planned each charted course
Each careful step along the byway
Oh, and more, much more than this
I did it my way

Yes, there were times, I’m sure you know
When I bit off more than I could chew
But through it all when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out
I faced it all and I stood tall
And did it my way

I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried
I’ve had my fails, my share of losing
And now as tears subside
I find it all so amusing
To think I did all that
And may I say, not in a shy way
Oh, no, no not me
I did it my way

For what is a man, what has he got
If not himself, then he has not
To say the words he truly feels
And not the words he would reveal
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way

Now, I get it. Frank Sinatra was not a person who ever presented the aura of being blase. He never struck people as struggling for something to be excited about. He was as arrogant and egotistical a personality as you’d find. He was the mob. He was the godfather. He did it his way, you did it his way. The lyrics were perfect for Frank Sinatra. It didn’t hurt that Frank Sinatra could belt it out loud:

Needless to say, Bowie’s version got stomped all over on. It disappeared. However, the whole incident did not. Seeing his idea become someone else’s monster hit didn’t fade for a while. So, when he signed with RCA with his first major recording deal, one of the very first songs he did, armed with Mick Ronson on strings and Rick Wakeman on piano, was a little piece called “Life on Mars”. Now, if you listen closely, it very strongly resembles My Way:

And, of course, there’s the lyrics:

It’s a god-awful small affair
To the girl with the mousy hair
But her mummy is yelling “No”
And her daddy has told her to go
But her friend is nowhere to be seen
Now she walks through her sunken dream
To the seat with the clearest view
And she’s hooked to the silver screen
But the film is a saddening bore
‘Cause she’s lived it ten times or more
She could spit in the eyes of fools
As they ask her to focus on

Sailors fighting in the dance hall
Oh man! Look at those cavemen go
It’s the freakiest show
Take a look at the Lawman
Beating up the wrong guy
Oh man! Wonder if he’ll ever know
He’s in the best selling show
Is there life on Mars?

It’s on America’s tortured brow
That Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow
Now the workers have struck for fame
‘Cause Lennon’s on sale again
See the mice in their million hordes
From Ibiza to the Norfolk Broads
Rule Britannia is out of bounds
To my mother, my dog, and clowns
But the film is a saddening bore
‘Cause I wrote it ten times or more
It’s about to be writ again
As I ask you to focus on

Sailors fighting in the dance hall
Oh man! Look at those cavemen go
It’s the freakiest show
Take a look at the Lawman
Beating up the wrong guy
Oh man! Wonder if he’ll ever know
He’s in the best selling show
Is there life on Mars?

About people who are bored. Blase. Struggling to find something meaningful in life. A lot truer to the original song than My Way.

One final irony. Sinatra’s retirement wasn’t a kept secret. He had talked about it a long time. In 1971, he actually had a retirement performance. The last act to perform before Sinatra took the stage was Barbra Streisand. Sinatra came out of retirement to release “My Way”. At pretty much the same time, Barbra re-did Life on Mars?.

Coincidence?