Blowin’ in the Wind / House of the Rising Sun by Marie Laforêt – A Little Gem from 1964
Alright, let’s talk about this quirky little album. It’s Blowin’ in the Wind / House of the Rising Sun by Marie Laforêt, released way back in 1964 in Japan on Columbia Records. The genre? Pop, but with that unmistakable French Chanson vibe that feels like sipping red wine at a café somewhere in Paris. Except, you know, it’s Japan. Weird combo, right? But somehow, it works.
This record only has two tracks—yep, just two—but man, they pack a punch. Let’s dive into “Blowin’ in the Wind” first. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Bob Dylan’s version is iconic, and no one can really top that. But here’s the thing about Marie’s take—it’s softer, almost fragile, like she’s whispering these big questions to you over candlelight. Her voice doesn’t boom; it lingers. And honestly, that makes the song feel more intimate, like she’s inviting you to sit down and think for a minute. You don’t just hear it—you feel it. It sticks with me because it’s less protest anthem and more personal meditation. Like, wow, okay, now I’m staring out the window wondering about life choices. Thanks, Marie.
Then there’s “House of the Rising Sun.” Oh boy, this one’s a classic too, but again, Marie does her own thing with it. Instead of the raw grittiness of The Animals’ version (which we all love), hers sounds dreamy, almost haunting. There’s this delicate balance between sadness and beauty, like she’s telling you a ghost story wrapped in silk. It’s not flashy or loud—it creeps up on you. I remember listening to it late at night once, and suddenly I wasn’t alone anymore. Not in a scary way, though! More like… someone had quietly joined me in the room, humming along. Weird, huh?
What gets me about this album is how small yet impactful it feels. Two songs, done simply, but they leave a mark. Maybe it’s because Marie brings something different to each track—not trying to outdo anyone, just making them hers. Plus, the fact that this came out in Japan adds this whole layer of cultural curiosity. Why did Columbia decide to release this there? Was Marie huge in Japan back then? So many questions!
Anyway, as I wrap this up, I gotta say—I didn’t expect to get so lost in such a short album. But here we are. If you ever stumble across this little piece of musical history, give it a listen. It’s proof that sometimes, less really is more. Or maybe it’s just proof that Marie Laforêt could turn anything into gold. Either way, props to her—and to whoever decided to press this in Japan. Cheers to the weird and wonderful corners of music history!
