“Hey… guy… AS a goof.”

Since I’ve been listening to music seriously, there have always been a few genres that I have never had the stomach for and made sure to provide snide and derisive comments towards without fail. Most of the time, I think I’m right on the money and that the Juggalos, fans of hot country, techno, jam bands, electroclash, and all the other genres and subgenres out there that instantly make my blood boil should be rounded up and collectively sterilized. But I don’t really see the point in that these days since there are enough bad bands from GOOD genres that render any argument I may make for the foundations of music continuing to crumble moot. Nowadays with music genre lines being slashed apart like fields of wheat and people finally deciding to admit that it’s alright to just like whatever sounds good to them, perhaps screaming at the top of one’s lungs about the bad bands is useless these days.

With the mass exodus of the unwashed hordes of easily manipulated teenagers to the ticket lines for the Cobra Starship or Say Anything show (which I rode by on my bike last night heading to yoga), it’s now a time for those who stuck it out through the dark ages when records weren’t cool again to revel in underground music’s joyous quagmire in which one can listen to the new Tommy Jay LP on Columbus Discount or hop onto the Termbo “weird punk” bandwagon (one in which most of the bands are good to great, but the nomenclature of said genre does a disservice to any of the bands making exciting music since it pigeonholes them to a spot with the rest of the Blank Dogs [blah] Myspace clones that think it is important to lay down the first musical ideas you have onto your computer and then automatically come out with a 300-press 45 that sells out and gets you on Siltbreeze… not to discount that label’s excellent contributions to our record nerd cooperative over the years), or revel in whatever rock music may be floating your boat at that particular moment. Look at the resurgence in the popularity of the Flying Nun catalog alone! I myself knew absolutely zilch about New Zealand’s prolific and, for the most part, exceptional musical history from the 70’s till now and now I’m reaping the benefits (thanks mostly in part to a wonderful mixtape I received from Terminal Boredom’s own Sprague Dawley which is most likely sitting in the tape deck in my bedroom right now) of the Chills and Verlaines and Bats and much much more, and Christ, think about the Gordons’ FUTURE SHOCK EP! Complete 70’s punk perfection filtered through the sensibilities of the Velvets’ or the Fall’s plodding with slight wave or dub tendencies? I never saw it coming from Kiwis who barely made a dent in the collector want lists until I got my head out of my ass and paid attention twenty years after the fact when I finally had the capacity to embrace the unfamiliar.

Perhaps I have been stubborn and pigheaded when it comes to music in my youth, but all I know now is that no matter what it is, if it is good and valid and real, it will be appreciated someday. With all the time we have on this earth (and I don’t know if you’ve ever stayed in on a Friday or Saturday night because you had nothing else to do, but it takes a loooooong time before those nights are over, so I can safely say we have a lot more time to live and breathe and hear records and tapes and demos and blogs before we shuffle off this mortal coil than we think), as long as you don’t turn into your boss or parents and do your best to not become a sheep, you’re going to be just fine.

What’s the point of resurrecting BOS with all this? Well, I am pleased to own Grateful Dead records now, and I don’t give a fuck about what you think. And yes, even though I may think that Ibiza-style house jams that they used to play on the E! network to show you what rich people do on vacation (answer: dance like the mental patients from the Cramps DVD, drink watered down fruity cocktails, do X, fuck, show off implants, wear J-Lo glasses, hate the poor, chastize the help) are still akin to pulling out nose hairs one by one for me, something I never thought I would like has taken a hold of me like no other.

It’s the French Underground. Or Glue Wave. Or Cold Wave. Whatever you want to call it. No disrespect to pioneers like 60’s Freakbeat master Jacques Dutronc or classic singers like Serge (definitely click that link) or Brel or garage-punk superstars Splash 4 or a killer early punk band like Private Vices or masterful French oi bands like Warrior Kids or Reich Orgasm or great new bands like Sonic Chicken 4 (who put out one of the best LP’s of 2007). But I want to focus on this meld of punk and synth and wave and cigarette smoke and slightly violent sex that permeates the surface of this subgenre while staring you in the face and calling you “pedestrian”.

France has always been a country on the cusp of trends that can make the ricehound bearded ex-”graffiti artist” DJ’s in NYC salivate and can alienate the dyed-in-the-wool “punks” with the flick of a synthesizer on switch. But a lot of the bands there playing this distinctive kind of synth-punk were relatively unknown outside their native France. Recently, a compilation came out that I sadly missed out on on vinyl called BIPPP: French Synth Wave 1979-85, artfully fitting together French minimal synth artists in a nice package. It sold out a press of 1000 (I think?) copies very quickly, though I don’t know how many actually made it to the US, and was reviewed in… get this… Entertainment Weekly. Come again? You know, I understand that yuppies liked garbage like Depeche Mode in the 80’s. I mean, Bret Easton Ellis made a career of writing about moussed-up jerks doing coke and smack and listening to awful droning repetitive faux-goth synth garbage in dance clubs. But I didn’t see that coming. But sometimes if you sort through through the chaff, there’s some wheat left to throw into the churning mill of your ears. And I believe the BIPPP comp is getting repressed, so soon you will most likely hear about me gushing at length about A Trois Dans Lens or another group whose French name I forgot the rudimentary root words to back in college.

Cheveu has stepped to the top of the heap in terms of modern French synth bands with the release of their first full length LP on S-S. Coupling this release with a short American tour (closest date was Columbus with some rather notable modern bands and I had no ride and no other means of transport) and soon these three guys are turning heads quickly. The LP itself is a wonderful document of a modern band pushing the envelope in their respective genre. And why do I like Cheveu so much? Underneath whatever pretension one may imagine emanating from this group, the songs cut you with razor sharp PUNK guitar that hisses and bleeds over the drum machine and gives you something to latch onto while you work your inward pelvic gyration up into your brain. I’ve always been rather liberal sexually in some ways, and this is finally the ultimate genre of sex music. While it will never go out of style to put on Fun House and sweat and grip and fuck or get fucked like a piston with the person/persons of your choosing, the French have always been the sexiest Euros out there in terms of their art to me. And this album drips with sexuality: a combustible sexuality that heats the body from the inside out until the listener burns up in a horny lubed-up rage. The effects and programming here keep the pace varied, and one can even feel where their influences stem outside their compatriots’ progressive synthesized stylings. Old American blues (sex music in and of itself as far back as the 20’s and 30’s) crops up, along with the aforementioned VU fuzz and sneering alleyway-fuck attitudes along with dirgey, noisier parts that give the vinyl the edge that help it rise above the dreaded techno tag that would originally enable me to shun it in the first place. And if you need more explanation of the creepy forbidden sexual vibe present, track three’s vocals are direct quotes from the Todd Solondz pedophile/misanthrope-fest Happiness. Should this make you feel like a pervert? Hopefully. All I know is “Lola Langusta” will make the corner of my mouth turn up in a sneer, pull up an eyebrow, and the rest of me engorge when I see a beautiful lady slowly gyrate to its pulsations.

Here is a music video for one of the Cheveu LP tracks that is actually quite well-done. This is “Dog”:

And Cheveu live at Gonerfest last September:

While I have waxed over Cheveu ad nauseam in this post, I am happy to provide links here to other bands who facilitate the same vibe. They just didn’t happen to put out a new LP this month and inspire me to post again.

VOLT - Lili Z., FX, and Jack are pioneers of this modern wave of French electro-punk, changing up from Jack and Lili’s tenure in Splash Four. All four of their releases (one on their own label Polly Magoo [good luck finding that one, but I got it], two on In the Red, and one on Hozac) are mandatory and you should keep your ears open for them. Jack and Lili’s taste in rock n’ roll has always been legendary and their new group is no exception. Their LP almost squeaked into my Top Ten on Terminal Boredom but their countrymen nudged them out, but I’m sure they’ll produce new recordings that top their last LP soon enough.

FRUSTRATION - Another great French synth group. Their 12″ on Born Bad sold out immediately, but through the magic of the internet and copping their single on S-S, I was able to give them a cursory listen and I must say, I need to get Paypal ready for whatever they may be ready to dish out next.

CRASH NORMAL - Another French trio who have an LP out now on S-S that made me stop and stare at the speakers for minutes while spinning it. This group is a lot more noisy and varied but they manage to exude a very similar vibe and some great songs. They should be on tour in America right now if I’m not mistaken.

BORN BAD RECORDS - The label that is pressing most of these records and more you should be aware of. They’re also running a physical store over in Paris which I am sure is a sight to behold for oddball Euro recordings.

Did I forget to mention that Brainbombs are playing Paris? If anyone knows how to get there for less than 500 dollars, please tell me now.

I felt really energized posting today. I’ll try not to slack off too much in the future. For now, head over to S-S and pick up the debut Cheveu LP like yesterday! Feel your juices flow and come back and tell me all about it. I am a voyeur.