Nor do I pretend to speak French. I do, however, hear a murmur coming from their side of the pond. It sounds like the distinct rustle of some really interesting music emerging from the woodwork.

Now this is WUML, where underground music lives. Under those pretenses, I promise not to lead you astray. When I went to research this band, I could find absolutely nothing about them. In fact our spinitron playlist from when I played them last week was one of the top hits on google. That is weak!

So my dearest Chocolat Billy, For your sake, as well as our readers, I am giving you a review.

Mon Père Est Ma Mère is one of those albums that you listen through for the first time with a crooked smile on your face trying to make sense of what you are hearing. Starting off with what seems to be energetic math-rock, they tend to slip comfortably into a pair of post-punk pajamas, managing to escape by the skin of their free-verse vocals.

They tastefully hide catchy vocals lines throughout the album. Sometimes, however, these high-pitched outbursts take more away from the music than they give. Enough negativity though, there is enough going on musically to entertain you for all 41.1 minutes of the album.

I love their playful electronic aspects. They steal sample from household items: clanking glasses, spoons, and the lawn mower. It reminds me of waking up late on a Saturday morning. The synthesizer in blanc facile is a neat little addition too. It makes the song straight-dancy!

Talk is cheep though. If your good at such things, get your hand on this album. If not, just watch this video and dance in your room.


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