While everyone acknowledges Serge Gainsbourgh as the patron spiv of French pop, everyone except deGaillande has ignored Georges Brassens as the Bukowski of French pop, and now here comes volume two. Translating and adapting the original lyrics from French to English, deGaillande is more Mort Shuman than Rod McKuen, looking more at the spirit of the music than getting it on the pop charts. Darkly humorous throughout, this is a must for anyone that enjoys wicked humor, or even alt.comedy. A real palette cleanser of a trip through the back alleys, this wild ride will keep you not believing what you just heard. This stuff starts where classic Tom Waits ends. Check it out