If you've checked out THE FRENCH'S recent album "Local Information," you'll know this nicely offbeat pair of synth terrorists (John Morrison and Darren Hayman, formerly of Hefner) are up to all sorts of weird downbeat electro-pop insurrection in their spare time.
"Porn Shoes" and "Gabriel In The Airport" are arguably the album's two star performers and make an inspired pairing as a double A-side single. The deceptively sweet "Porn Shoes" is genius lyrically, with Morrison's lispy, but loveable vocal letting loose classic stuff like: "She wore gold shoes with diamante, just like Kylie on the TV", while her would-be partner is taken aback by her gold court shoes reminding him of the shoes porn stars wear. The apprehension and expectation of a blind date as told through the protagonists' clothes, it ends with Morrison's summation: "He'd have a girl with flat-soled shoes, but he wouldn't know what to do with her" as the lugubriously great tune stumbles to a crescendo. Magic.
"Gabriel In The Airport", meanwhile, is probably the album's wittiest song of all, juxtaposing Peter Gabriel with the Archangel Gabriel and slyly attacking rock's "conscience" en route. Bizarrely, Morrison's incredulous vocal reminds me of Sparks' Russell Mael on this one (well, minus the throttly falsetto), but that superb couplet: "And the British Airways girls they sigh, saying "there goes that Phil Collins guy"" must be the unlikeliest opening to a memorable chorus this or any other year. A veritable hit, if there was any justice left in this world.
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As a bonus on the CD, we also get two non-album tracks: "Nasty And Mean" and "Punk Rock's Gonna Die". The former's just a squiffy, squelchy dickaround which needn't concern us, but "Punk Rock's Gonna Die" again comes within scaling distance of the album's peaks, pitting a simple, melancholy piano ballad against some wonderfully jaundiced observations of 1977 (and all that), seen through an argument with a girlfriend. "Lizzy said 'Fuck the Unions', Lizzy said 'Fuck the IRA', the sort of things you could say...back in '78" intones Morrison tremulously, making it sound like the saddest thing in the world.
Wonderfully witty and deliciously droll, The French are testament to what subversion, cheap synths and an unbridled imagination can achieve. Vive la difference, mes amis.
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