Project: A new era

08 THE PIRATE

Dressed out of fashion, but what can I do?
Have I no taste, or do I shun what’s new?
Or is it simply that I need to catch the eye,
To live forever where the spotlights shine?
My make-up sometimes leaves much to be desired;
The base is far too white, it simply isn’t right.
But it brings out my eyes, and that I quite admire:
So deep and dark, two black holes in the night.
My hair is not half bad, I must confess,
Long and rebellious, living in excess;
It lends me light and just a touch of mystery,
That makes the hearts around me beat for me.
Such charm, such sensuality unspeakable,
Enfolded in an aura irresistible.
They like me, I like me, and I know I’m quite a catch;
The mirror drinks me in with avidity.
For I am someone special, a true original,
With languid eyes, a randy little animal.
They like me, I like me, and I know I’m quite a catch;
Women see nothing but my finest qualities.
The arched eyebrow lends a touch of austere air,
Part ageing faun and part professor’s stare;
And then my movements add a brighter hue,
But am I just a character, or doing what I have to do?
Such charm, such sensuality unspeakable,
Enfolded in an aura irresistible.
They like me, I like me, and I know I’m quite a catch;
The mirror drinks me in with avidity.
For I am someone special, a true original,
With languid eyes, a randy little animal.
They like me, I like me, and I know I’m quite a catch;
Women see nothing but my finest qualities.
Such charm, such sensuality unspeakable,
Enfolded in an aura irresistible.
They like me, I like me, and I know I’m quite a catch;
The mirror drinks me in with avidity.
For I am someone special, a true original,
With languid eyes, a randy little animal.
They like me, I like me, and I know I’m quite a catch;
Women see nothing but my finest qualities.
They like me, I like me, and I know I’m quite a catch.
They like me, I like me, and I know I’m quite a catch.
They like me, I like me…
I like me…
I like me!

After the Phoenix comes the Pirate.

Where she is elemental force, absolute presence, power that asks no permission, he appears to construct himself piece by piece before the mirror: the clothes, the make-up, the hair, the gaze, the eyebrow, the pose. Everything is image, seduction, theatre.

And yet it would be far too easy to dismiss him as merely vain.

The Pirate plays with male narcissism, heightening it until it becomes dazzling, ironic, almost brazen. But within this self-satisfied portrait, a crack appears: “But am I merely playing a character, or is this what I have to do?” And at that point, the song shifts its perspective.

In a song that is light only in appearance, the pirate becomes the embodiment of a theatrical, seductive and fragile masculinity, irresistibly conscious of the game it is playing.

And so he remains there before the mirror, enjoying the applause of his own reflection. Yet for an instant, between one pose and the next, he seems almost to wonder which of the two is the mask and which the man; which is the copy transfigured by make-up, and which the original.