La Guillotine Permanente - French Revolution Song

Violin by Iriny Markevych, vocals & arrangement by Farya Faraji. This is a song that goes back to the era of the French Revolution, and I think it's a great companion piece to another French song I covered earlier this year, a highly monarchist, religious, traditionalist chant called Les Terres Saintes. Together, they showcase a fascinating duality in modern French culture, with diametrically opposed ideological stances regarding the identity of France. This melody, appropriately enough, was modeled on the tune of an earlier song dated to the 16th century, called "Si le roi m'avait donné." This song has a number of well known recordings, but most tend to be modernised. I therefore wanted to bring the listener back to a musical soundscape more accurate to the late 1780's, an era where the tonal system that defines our modern Western music was now well on its way to crystallising in the form we know today. By that point, gone from the status of dominant music was the highly layered, complex modal polyphony of the 1600s and earlier. The Baroque musical era had ended, and the Classical musical stage had begun, with figures such as Mozart existing during that time. Music was now once again defined primarily by one leading melody, instead of the simultaneous leading melodies of Renaissance polyphony, albeit accompanied by a harmonic support, with chordal accompaniment much similar to the ones we use today. The instrumentation here consists of a piano, violin, and contrabass. Lyrics: Le député Guillotin Dans la médecine Très expert et très malin Fit une machine Pour purger le corps français De tous les gens à projets C'est la guillotine, ô gué C'est la guillotine Pour punir la trahison La haute rapine Ces amateurs de blasons Ces gens qu'on devine Voilà pour qui l'on a fait Ce dont on connaît l'effet C'est la guillotine, ô gué C'est la guillotine À force de comploter La horde mutine A gagné sans y penser Migraine maline Pour guérir ces messieurs-là Un jour on les mènera À la guillotine, ô gué À la guillotine De la France on a chassé La noble vermine On a tout rasé, cassé Et tout mis en ruine Mais de noble on a gardé De mourir le cou tranché Par la guillotine, ô gué Par la guillotine Messieurs les nobles mutins Dont chacun s'échine Soufflant par des efforts vains La guerre intestine Si nous vous prenons vraiment Vous mourrez très noblement À la guillotine, ô gué À la guillotine Le dix nous a procuré Besogne de reste Les traîtres ont abondé C'est pis qu'une peste Comme on n'en veut pas manquer On punit sans déplanter La machine reste, ô gué La machine reste! Translation: Deputy Guillotin, A highly skilled and clever Expert in medicine, Invented a machine To purge the body of France Of all those who plot and scheme. It’s the guillotine, oh hey, It’s the guillotine. To punish treason And brazen robbery, Those lovers of coats of arms, Those people we all know— It was for them that they made This device whose effects are well known. It’s the guillotine, oh hey, It’s the guillotine. Through all their plotting, The rebellious horde Has unwittingly brought upon itself A terrible migraine. To cure these gentlemen, One day they will be taken To the guillotine, oh hey, To the guillotine. We have driven from France The noble vermin. Everything has been torn down and smashed, Everything reduced to ruin. But one noble privilege has been preserved: To die with one’s neck severed By the guillotine, oh hey, By the guillotine. Gentlemen, rebellious nobles, Each of you working so hard, Striving in vain To stir up civil war, If we ever catch you, You will die very nobly At the guillotine, oh hey, At the guillotine. The Tenth has provided us With more than enough work. Traitors have been everywhere; They’re worse than a plague. Since there is no shortage of them, We can carry out the punishment right here. The machine stays, oh hey, The machine stays.