J’t’emmène à el’friterie !
Hyper-charged folk-rock with frantic violin riffs, aggressive bow scrapes, wild slides, and raw, off-the-rails energy; acoustic guitar in ultra-fast percussive strumming, strings buzzing with joyful chaos; bass bouncing hard like punk-folk pogo rhythms; drums dry and punchy with sharp snare cracks, open hi-hats, jittery fills, and unpredictable breaks; tempo around 162 BPM for maximum adrenaline; dirty, sweaty “live in a tiny bar” atmosphere, crowd shouting, beer-soaked floor, chaotic stage vibe; vocals nasal, gritty, half-sung half-shouted with nervous vibrato and playful manic accents; backing vocals messy but energetic, like friends yelling into a single mic; production intentionally raw: room reverb, light overdrive, mic bleed, breath noise, slight detuning for that unpolished punk-folk spirit; whole track feels like a violin-driven riot, dance-floor frenzy, rural mayhem, french rural, ch'ti picard
J’t’emmène à el’friterie !
Hyper-charged folk-rock with frantic violin riffs, aggressive bow scrapes, wild slides, and raw, off-the-rails energy; acoustic guitar in ultra-fast percussive strumming, strings buzzing with joyful chaos; bass bouncing hard like punk-folk pogo rhythms; drums dry and punchy with sharp snare cracks, open hi-hats, jittery fills, and unpredictable breaks; tempo around 162 BPM for maximum adrenaline; dirty, sweaty “live in a tiny bar” atmosphere, crowd shouting, beer-soaked floor, chaotic stage vibe; vocals nasal, gritty, half-sung half-shouted with nervous vibrato and playful manic accents; backing vocals messy but energetic, like friends yelling into a single mic; production intentionally raw: room reverb, light overdrive, mic bleed, breath noise, slight detuning for that unpolished punk-folk spirit; whole track feels like a violin-driven riot, dance-floor frenzy, rural mayhem, french rural, ch'ti picard
Lyrics
Ch’me lève tard, y fé tout gris,
Ch’ai l’nez qu’i coule, ch’ai froid à min bide,
Mais j’pense à ti, ch’ai l’cœur qu’i frétille,
Comme un cornet d’frites qu’on r’met sus l’gril.
Et j’te dis : “viens, t’inquiète pas dins min coin”,
J’t’emmène là où qu’on s’sint bin…
J’t’emmène à el’ friterie !
Là où qu’cha sint l’frite et l’souri’,
On prindra eun’ tchio welsh et deux tchiots gris,
Et p’t-êt’ même qu’on s’imbrassera dins l’courant d’air d’là-d’dins !
Té m’dis : “oh non, ch’sus pas coiffée”,
Mi j’dis : “t’inquiète, y a d’l’humidité”,
On met nos k-ways, on s’prend el’ drache,
Ch’est romantique, comme eine flaiche !
Et j’te r’dis : “viens, té l’plus biau d’min destin”,
J’t’inmène là où qu’on r’grette rin…
J’t’emmène à el’ friterie !
Là où qu’cha sint l’frite et l’souri’,
On prindra eun’ tchio welsh et deux tchiots gris,
Et p’t-êt’ même qu’on s’imbrassera dins l’courant d’air d’là-d’dins !
Et s’i fé noir, on r’teindra l’soleil
Avec nos frites qu’é brillent dins l’huile,
On s’regardera comme deux gommars
Qu’i s’aiment à l’odeur du gras d’l’gril.
J’t’emmène à el’ friterie !
Là où qu’cha sint l’frite et l’souri’,
On prindra eun’ tchio welsh et deux tchiots gris,
Et p’t-êt’ même qu’on s’imbrassera dins l’courant d’air d’là-d’dins !
Vas-y min frérot… fais péter el’ fricadelle !
__
아침 늦게 일어났더니 밖은 잔뜩 흐리고, 콧물은 줄줄 나고, 배도 시리더라.
근데 이상하게 너만 생각하면 가슴이 팔딱팔딱 뛰어. 마치 다시 기름 위로 올라간 감튀처럼 지글지글.
그래서 내가 말해. “야 와, 걱정하지 말고 그냥 내 옆에 있어.”
같이 가면 딱 좋은 데가 있거든.
나랑 프리뜨집 가자!
감튀 냄새 나고 사람들 웃음도 섞여 있는 그 분위기 아는지?
작은 웰시 하나에다 ‘그리’ 두 잔 시켜서,
바람 숭숭 들어오는 문틈에서 우리 뽀뽀할지도 몰라.
너는 “오늘 머리 완전 망했어…” 하고 걱정하지만,
난 “괜찮아, 오늘 습해서 다 똑같아ㅋㅋ” 하고 그냥 웃지.
우비 꺼내 입고 빗속 걸어가는데,
이게 또 은근히 로맨틱하더라. 벼락 맞은 것처럼 갑자기 두근두근해지고.
또 말한다. “진짜 너는 내 인생에서 제일 좋은 선택이야.”
너랑 가면 후회 같은 건 없을 것 같아서.
그래, 같이 프리뜨집 가자.
감튀 냄새 솔솔 나고 사람들 표정도 따뜻해지는 그곳.
웰시 하나랑 그리 두 잔 시켜두고,
또 모르지—그 안에서 우리 키스할 수도 있지.
그리고 마지막으로 한 마디.
야, 프리카델 좀 시켜라
__
I wake up late, the sky’s all grey,
My nose is running, my stomach’s freezing,
But when I think of you, my heart starts twitching,
Like a cone of fries thrown back on the grill.
And I tell you: “come on, don’t worry, stay with me,”
I’ll take you somewhere we’ll feel just right…
I’m taking you to the friterie!
Where it smells like fries and smiles,
We’ll grab a little welsh and two little gris,
And maybe we’ll even kiss in the draft blowing inside!
You tell me: “oh no, my hair’s a mess,”
And I say: “don’t worry, it’s humid anyway,”
We put on our raincoats, walk straight into the downpour,
It’s romantic… like a lightning bolt!
And I tell you again: “come, you’re the best part of my fate,”
I’ll take you somewhere with no regrets…
I’m taking you to the friterie!
Where it smells like fries and smiles,
We’ll grab a little welsh and two little gris,
And maybe we’ll even kiss in the draft blowing inside!
And if it gets dark, we’ll relight the sun
With our fries shining in the oil,
We’ll look at each other like two goofy lovers
Who fall for each other in the smell of sizzling grease.
I’m taking you to the friterie!
Where it smells like fries and smiles,
We’ll grab a little welsh and two little gris,
And maybe we’ll even kiss in the draft blowing inside!
Come on bro… fire up the fricadelle!