Revolver - "Get Around Town" (2009)

I tuned into the Revolver saga just as their initial backlash (a necessary rite of passage for any indie rock band on the path from obscurity to omnipresence) was hitting the Parisian three-piece hard: “Get Around Town” was so popular in Paris’ hazy summer of 2009 that by the time the single made its way to the US, the only online comments I could find were vociferous complaints that the song was everywhere in France.

As a fresh pair of ears an ocean away, let me say this: “Get Around Town” clearly earned whatever airwave oversaturation it achieved. From the cheekily plucked, hollow-bodied guitar intro to the complex, almost madrigal-style three-part-harmonies, to the delightfully obtuse lyric (“it’s the body countdown, the body counts down”) to the tossed-off effortlessness with which the whole thing is delivered, “Get Around Town” is about as perfect as radio pop can get. The band brings unbridled energy—yet with an understated sense of self-control—to their material, like a Supergrass if Gaz Coombes’ idols had been Belle & Sebastian instead of the Buzzcocks. Miraculously, any preciousness is somehow left behind in childhood music lessons. Sure, Revolver has a cellist. But he’s a cellist who gets his instrumental freak on, thank you very much.

The band successfully sustains the many musical charms of “Get Around Town” throughout their full-length (albeit 25-minute) debut, “Music For A While.” The title references 17th-century British composer Henry Purcell, and, while I’m at it, yes, the band is named after the Beatles’ 1966 studio masterpiece—but despite the band’s giddy name-checks, the focus is on the songs (in particular, those gorgeous, textured vocal harmonies), not the cleverness that surrounds them. At least three other songs have the catchiness quotient of “Get Around Town” and the potential to follow it into radio intransience. Those angry comment-posting haters have their work cut out for them.

click the image below to listen to song previews or buy the album:

Plastiscines - "Zazie Fait De La Bicyclette" (2007)

Sauntering onto the Parisian rock scene with short, beguiling songs that radiated equal parts sass and smarts, the Plastiscines have a backstory that borders on the legendary: they met at a Libertines show, they were discovered by the producer of Kraftwerk, they were barely out of their teens when the ink was drying on their gilded record contract. From such auspicious raw materials, the Plastiscines wound up spearheading an entire movement—les bébés rockers—and, to date, earning the most stateside exposure of this rowdy Paris-based indie rock community.

It’s a crystalline, tidy sort of indie rock, to be sure. In fact, the Plastiscines navigate blithely past the cultural burden of needing to ‘rock as hard as the men’ that their female amerindie compatriots are often compelled to shoulder. Instead, the Plastiscines deliver a stripped-down sound that rocks in a compelling, often deliberately casual way that doesn’t necessarily call attention to the gender of the musicians. The singing’s another story, of course; singer/guitarist Katty Besnard’s laconic vocal delivery recalls Blondie’s Debbie Harry—a perceptive touchstone when your m.o. is balancing the seemingly incompatible mix of standoffish boredom and utter glee.

Speaking of glee, “Zazie Fait De La Bicyclette” is not the catchiest track on the album (the radio-ready “Loser”) or the one that flaunts the most punk energy (the snarling “La Regle Du Jeu”), but it is the funniest, and arguably the most joyously compelling. Over a wonky, mismatched minor key progression, Besnard describes an idealized stage-set of the most iconic elements of the Swinging Sixties (Twiggy in mini-skirts, mods and rockers facing off). Against this colorful backdrop, Besnard sings—like an 11-year-old spazz—about Zazie riding her bike at night. The band oom-pah’s along in cut time, mirroring the wobbly hold on a set of handlebars in the dark.

“Zazie” is a tossed-off, corny joke that doesn’t fit with the rest of the record. It could easily have been left off, or relegated to a b-side; but, like the titular heroine’s bicycle ride itself, sometimes the journey is more important than the destination. For now, I’m happy to pedal right behind the Plastiscines and follow them wherever they go.

click the image below to listen to song previews or buy the album: