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FRENCH KICKS - Two Thousand
| StylusMagazine | | New York’s bastard children don’t make noise. They’d rather speak lightly about old friends and passing conversation instead of rambling on about the subway being a porno or the rat they found in some dilapidated apartment....full text |
| | PrefixMag | | There are these bars in New York (and presumably in any other reasonably with-it American city; NYC ain't the center of the universe, you know) where the deejays loudly spin '80s pop-disco junk every damn night: synth-heavy glop with quick big-drum beats and dramatic choruses, as recorded by good bands such as the Smiths and not-good bands such as [insert your fave crappy Euro one-off here]....full text |
| | PitchFork | | Now more than ever, the Kicks' post-punk/garage cred hangs by a thread. Long the whipping boys of New York's revivalist clique, the dorky kids lumped in with the cool Walkmen/Strokes crowd, this foursome's only remaining link to the scene rests in its locale. Somewhere between debut One Time Bells and 2004's Trial of the Century, they morphed into a pop-rock group, about as post-punk or garage as U2's last album. Fittingly, Two Thousand sounds like a wistful, tuckered-out, twilight-of-career album for a band that never saw much daylight....full text |
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FRENCH KICKS lyrics |
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