« The Baptist Generals | Main | The Natural History »

The French Kicks

If the French Kicks were sexier, I might like them more than Interpol. (I realize how tremendously inappropriate it is to say something like that in a short review designed to encapsulate an experience, but anyone who argues that there isn't a small component of sex appeal in everything is probably lying.) And there's something about les frères Stumpf and company that make up for their lack of projected image -- an earnestness, something heartfelt and vulnerable, even through the dirty, jaded knowingness of Nick Stumpf's vocals makes them a fair match for those other guys from NYC (the tie-wearing and not so) who specialize in what Little Miss Rock 'n' Roll and I like to call "naked male pain." Then again, it could just be the masterful use of piano and harmony, and Stumpf singing from behind his drum kit.

I first heard of the French Kicks courtesy of an Interpol flier, circa 2001. And I think most of my curiosity was about which type of "kicks," in question, were, in fact French. (Le Can-Can?) Existential meanderings aside, what I did find on first actually hearing the French Kicks was an unabashedly romantic mess. Regardless of what Stumpf is saying, he seems to offer his lyrics in the tone in which every girl dreams of: love-letters and confessions from a favorite cardigan-wearing boy. More so than any of the other uber-hip "New York bands" that the French Kicks find themselves lumped with, they manage to do the almost impossible in this age of call and response to the eighties: they craft nearly perfect pop songs. Then again, it could just be the lovely harmonies, but I have suspicions it's more special than that.

The French Kicks - Crying Just for Show
The French Kicks - Trying Whining
The French Kicks - The Trial of the Century
The French Kicks - Only So Long

The French Kicks website, which features the ever-nifty WWFKD (What would French Kicks Do?) advice column. Buy Young Lawyer, One Time Bells, and Trial of the Century from Insound or Amazon.

Posted by Last Girl to the Party at 03.11.05 at 12:54 PM

Comments

Comments are now closed for this entry.

Recent Comments

What This Is
See You in the Pit is an MP3 blog exclusively featuring artists who will be playing the SXSW Music Festival, because the best way to learn about music is to hear it. This weblog will self destruct on March 22nd. You have been warned.

Queen of the Front Row is a twenty-something music fan in New York City who spends more time looking for new bands than she'd care to admit. She can usually be found watching live music in divey clubs on the Lower East Side. She loves that everybody she knows from NYC ends up in Austin for SXSW.

Little Miss Rock'n'Roll is very pissed off that the management of Emo's has repainted the ladies' loo red, masking that gloriously nasty pink paint and all that graffiti. It looks like a circle of hell now. Anyway, she'd like you to know that she's lived in Austin for nearly 12 years now and still knows all the secrets about you and that local musician you think you'd like to date.

Last Girl to the Party is always the last girl to the party...usually because she's fretting about what to wear. She has lived in Austin for 9 years, knows which bars maintain supplies of Campari and Pernod and which serve Stella Artois in those annoying goblets. She'd also like you to know that she has more shoes than Queen of the Front Row and Little Miss Rock'n'Roll combined.

Disclaimers
We are not affiliated with SXSW, any record label/bands/musicians, iTunes, Amazon, any secret government agencies, or your parents. Posts, comments, songs, and angry letters of indignation belong to those who wrote them in the first place.

MP3s for sampling purposes only and will be available only for a limited period of time. Please support the music makers; without them, SYitP does not exist. Information wants to be free, but musicians gotta eat.

This site powered by Movable Type, Squidfingers, and love.