Marion Cotillard (with Franz Ferdinand) - "Eyes of Mars" (2010)

I had been drifting off to sleep while listening to a podcast when I heard “Eyes of Mars” for the first time earlier this week. Needless to say, the jolt that shook me as soon as this song kicked in blasted the sleep right out of my head. I had no idea who was singing or playing the instruments; my best guess was that some young, impressively polished French indie band was tearing into an obscure Kate Bush song that I’d never heard before.

The reality is far juicier. Last year, Oscar-winning actress and all-around 21st-century heroine Marion Cotillard, having proven her exquisite vocal chops in decidedly non-rock settings (conveying Edith Piaf’s melancholy and infinite sadness in “La Vie En Rose,” partying with Hollywood A-listers while singing tightly choreographed Broadway-style numbers in “Nine”), was approached by fashion giant Dior to serve as the face for their “Lady Dior” advertising campaign. Wanting more than a mere photo shoot for billboards and magazine spreads, Dior wrapped an entire persona around Cotillard—the enigmatic “Lady Rouge,” a character created for Dior by designer John Galliano—and commissioned a mini-movie for the campaign.

Enter the slick indie rock fashion plates Franz Ferdinand. Tapped to provide a song for Lady Rouge to sing in the film, they contributed “Eyes of Mars,” for which Cotillard nailed the lead vocals with exactly the kind of detached cool that has been the purview of Alex Kapranos and Company since they declared themselves the “new Scottish gentry” back in 2003. In short: yeah, Cotillard can sing the hell out of rock too.

Kapranos must have had a hunch about Cotillard’s not-just-for-showtunes skills, because “Eyes of Mars” is a weird, complex song that shimmers through multiple key changes—in odd places—and pivots with intense dynamic shifts that a lesser singer would likely have botched. Cotillard’s breathy, full-voweled soprano (which does recall Kate Bush in places, particularly during the song’s spookily hushed intro) inhabits the song’s pull towards the chaotic with a strong sense of inner stability—Lady Rouge may be getting sucked into a maelstrom, but she’s still got enough wits about her to comment on its beauty as she spins. Even more, Cotillard is enough of a self-aware 21st-century heroine to be able to get away with infusing the line “we’re selling our dreams to you all” with a perfectly furtive smirk.

That said, the song isn’t for sale, but the streamable video is big-budget amazing (although I’m surprised that Dior used faceless, floppy-haired actors for Lady Rouge’s backing band rather than employ Franz Ferdinand themselves). Watch it over and over again (as I’ve been) here:

Marc Lavoine - "Pour Une Biguine Avec Toi" (1983)

In his early 20’s, Marc Lavoine embarked on a career as an actor, mostly landing roles in serial television. In the early- to mid-80’s he scored a few back-to-back hits on the pop music charts (sometimes writing his own material) and quickly attained much more success as a musician than he’d tasted as an actor. His telegenic looks didn’t hurt this transition, which, of course, coincided with the mushrooming global popularity of music videos.

The eerie Rick Springfield comparisons end right there, however. Marc Lavoine most certainly does not reside in a dusty “Where Is He Now?” file of unremembered 80’s video-hit wonders. In fact, as I write this entry, 2009’s “Volume Ten,” Lavoine’s tenth studio album (not counting live albums and compilations) remains ensconced in the French Top Ten Album Charts (nudged out of the highest spots only by the likes of worldwide phenoms Lady Gaga, Michael Bublé, and the Black Eyed Peas). The only time Rick Springfield has ever shared anything with Lady Gaga or the Black Eyed Peas has been in this sentence.

Ok, so having established that Lavoine remains a relevant, pop music elder statesman in France, one who continues to sell lots of records, let me again bounce back to those early days. I had wanted to write about something from “Volume Ten,” but I kept getting sucked into Lavoine’s earliest hits, particularly 1983’s “Pour Une Biguine Avec Toi,” in which Lavoine delivers an absolute classic—on only his second single.

From a 2010 vantage point, “Biguine” is pure 80’s sonic nostalgia: Lavoine’s earnest, growly vocals channel the dude from Simple Minds, the reverb-drenched guitar presages “Boys of Summer,” each chorus explodes with Psychedelic Furs-style keyboard-as-xylophone. Meanwhile, the heart-on-the-sleeve lyrics tally a list of all the things the singer would readily give up for a shot at the girl he’s got his eye on (possibly worrisome for said girl: his toothbrush made the list). Close your eyes, though, and you can see Molly Ringwald doing her library detention dance during Lavoine’s “Doo do-doot doo doo” vocal break after the chorus. Marc Lavoine: Where Is He Now? At the top of the charts, right where he’s always been…

click the image below to listen to song previews or buy the album: