French Girls (the band, not the inhabitants of Paris) are liars. It gives me no pleasure to say that, but its true. They aren’t French, and they aren’t even (all) girls. I just don’t know what to believe any more. It’s just upsetting. However, because this website only believes in facts and no fake news, we’ll give you the skinny.
There’s four of them, they are from Phoenix Arizona and there’s two girls and two guys – like Abba, but way, way cooler. They are led by Che Beret (gonna go out on a limb here and suggest that might not be a real name).
Oh and there’s one other thing you need to know (and this is definitely the truth) “French Girls” is a record that is so much fun, it is more or less impossible to listen to without a smile on your face.
There’s 10 songs here and it’ll take up about 20 minutes of your time. And it’ll be about double your daily allowance of sugar.
Right from “Crazy Yo” – the opener – to “Dude Rocker” which ends it in a very Ramones type way, to listen to this record is to go back in time.
Whether it’s the 60s stylings of “No Morals” (charmingly it dismisses this as “yeah, she is Canadian” as though it explains all you need to understand) which seems ready to recreate “Speedy Gonzalez”, or the raw Garage Punk of “He’s All That” there’s an innocence here, a love of rock n roll, and it’s as fluffy as Candyfloss.
The bass rumble of “Independent Woman” hides a greater truth. Surf rock – if it was played by The Shadows – it is also a kind of feminist one fingered salute. Joan Jett would approve, and that makes it cool.
There’s some extremely tuneful and catchy tunes here but they hide their truth (as we’ve discussed in the opening paragraph FG are no strangers to this. For all that “Hottie” at first glance, could be played at the school disco, its also seemingly horny as hell. They get away with this again on “Summertime” by virtue of the fact that it sounds like an explosion in the Skittles factory and the lead guitars jangle on “Sodapop”, which appears to take Blondie’s “Hangin’ On The Telephone” as its starting point, and “Aerobicise” doesn’t even hide its intentions, as it rumbles along. Brilliantly, it’s the most punk thing here and still rhymes “hard” with “leotard” so kudos all round.
This, by and large all has the air of one long shindig. “Pizza Party” adds the fancy dress and the Halloween. And if on one hand it is ridiculous, then on the other you are so swept along with it all you are past caring.
“French Girls” is an album that could only have come from an American band. Its cocktail of bubblegum, Spring Break, the prom, garage rock and attitude, though will resonate wherever people like tunes – and have a pulse, because if this doesn’t make you want to move then you are probably dead anyway.