Hefner were one of those bands who were little more than a name to this writer. London-based; had one or two OK tracks that sounded decent enough in company on a compilation; basically also-rans at the end of the day. You know the drill backwards, I'm sure.
So you might think the arrival of a new project from Hefner stalwarts Darren Hayman and John Morrison would be cause for little more than a brief outbreak of shrugging, but you'd be wrong. Woe betide you if you pass up "Local Information", the debut from their new vehicle THE FRENCH. Believe me, you're missing something witty, intelligent, mildly subversive and crammed with low-key electronic pop treats if you do.
Largely keyboard'nsequence-based, with some organic instrumentation (such as Fender Rhodes, occasional bass and the briefest snatches of guitar on suburban dissatisfaction tale "Canada Water"), "Local Information" is a fine exercise in minimalism, something akin to an anglicised Magnetic Fields slugging it out with early Pulp.
It also helps that the album opens with a 24-carat classic in new single "Porn Shoes." A portrayal of a date as seen through the clothes of the two participants, it opens with Hayman deadpanning the wonderfully evocative: "He wore a cotton shirt by Ben Sherman, and underpants by Calvin Klein" and proceeds to the chorus where the guy is surprised by the girl's Kylie-esque shoes and suggests: "He thought they made her sexy, but they weren't what he expected." Great. I won't spoil the ending for you, though.
The evocative musical backdrop consistently draws you in, but so does Hayman's laconic, lisp-heavy drawl, which really scores on tracks like "The Wu-Tang Clan", where over brusque electro-pop, he unleashes the tale of a girl who's an outsider and relates to the infamous rappers more than her friends. Then there's the similarly memorable "The Pines": a story of love, lust, terrorism and forest fires from the Deep South. It concludes with the ridiculously brilliant line: "We know the FBI and CIA are frightened, they won't keep our love underground."
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But most of these tracks are real contenders. "The Stars, The Moon, The Sun" is a terrific dissection of suburban bohemian mores and personal incompatibility; "When She Leaves Me" is like the most low-key imaginable modern response to Scott Walker's "If You Go Away" with the minutiae of everyday life cluttering Hayman's memory of his girl walking away ("When she leaves me, the rusted car outside my house will still be there") and the hilariously droll "Gabriel In The Airport" juxtaposes Peter Gabriel with the Archangel of the same name and features the immortal chorus line: "The British Airways girls they sigh...there goes that Phil Collins guy." One can only ponder what punishment they've got in mind for Sting!
Understated, sly and shot through with the brand of vitriol that's usually only released by projects involving Luke Haines, "Local Information" is an essential guide to The French's bizarre world, but be warned: it's the kind of obsessive, voyeuristic info you'll never find down the local tourist office.
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