I sure as shit don't jibe with King George II's hardline on Euro pacifism, but what's the fucking deal with all the poofy French musicians these days? Sure, the Parisian electronica scene had its moment in the late 90s, with Daft Punk, Air, Cassius, et al, producing worthy, if not groundbreaking, material, but who from those long-gone days of healthy Franco-American relations has released anything in years truly worth scuffing your retro Jordans over? And while I'm at it, why does every critic with a guilty American conscience feel it necessary to play Lucky Pierre to any couple of Parisian (ahem) assholes with a 606 emulator? Wake the fuck up, dudes. Mirwais and Black Strobe haven't released any material much more substantial than your average coke-nosed electroclasher.
So here comes this Electronicat character, sauntering in to impress we Yanks with another set of guitar-rocking electro. Thing is, the deafening hype accompanying virtually every single goddam dance-rock record released is starting to chafe, y'all-- it's time to charge ahead and accept that the looks-like-it-might-be-here-to-stay genre is already starting to excrete its share of sewage. The steamer in front of me, 21st Century Toy, comes courtesy of one Fred Bigot, a proud Frenchman with a predictably tired nom de punk that all but explains why he couldn't come up with a better recording alias than "Electronicat."
Much of the frustration here derives from the album's asinine simplicity. I'm not saying all electronica needs to be complex-- see Casiotone for the Painfully Alone as an example of wrenching the most out of minimal gear and production, but it's, what, 2003, and hammering endlessly at the same distorted synth tone for an hour isn't gonna win anybody new friends.
Channeling the glam era on opener "Tonight", Bigot's vocals come off like a second-rate J Spacemen, fresh off the gear and just not fucking handling his shit. "Tonight" introduces a shrill, off-key synth midway through that mixes things up a bit, but for the most part, the track's Bolanist stance is about as good as things get. "Frisco Bay" sets sub-Casio-preset backing to Digifuckery101 knob-twiddling, irritating female backing vocals, and some of the worst lyrics I've heard this year. (I'd quote them but I seriously can't put myself through it.) The "best" track here, "Hoo Woo Woo", evokes only the empty sentiment of its title; the worst, "Till I Die", is a mindless three-fingers-on-a-keyboard ditty notable only for the outrageous gall it had to lift its title from one of Brian Wilson's final masterpieces.
Electronicat would probably appreciate if 21st Century Toy was noticed by the hungry masses for its disco-cum-Nuggets hero worship. But while champions of the record (may you all burn in hell) might endorse its 60s-revivalist rock influence as a welcome change from the early 80s-leaning post-punk most commonly associated with rock-dance unions, the fact is, there's a reason the latter period synchronizes so well with modern electronic production-- most of the post-punk bands invoked in the rock element of the equation already had more than a trace of funk injected into their icy artsiness. Compared to the Rapture or !!!, this stuff just doesn't cut the filthy-smelling cheese Bigot surely enjoys after a grueling two hours' work in the studio. I'm sure plenty of folks will congratulate themselves for being so fucking cool while listening to this record, but I must admonish you, young hipster: When it comes to getting your dance-punk freak on, buy American.
