The French Kicks

Among the glut of New York rock earlier this decade, The French Kicks stood out in perhaps a more unassumingly traditional yet no less legitimate way—by writing fine songs. The debut album One Time Bells and its preceding EPs were crisp, and full of choppy guitars. The 2006 album Two Thousand, however, found the band focusing on their pop hooks and crafting more accessible songs, while not abandoning the influence of their garage rock peers and forebears, but refining them into something a little less abrasive. That trend continues on Swimming, an album packed with a willingness to take risks in both directions.

The band says that most of the songs on the album are the result of first or second takes, and that’s easy to believe; it’s neither overpackaged, overthought or over-recorded. Rather than focusing on the raw power of '60s and '70s garage bands, Swimming borrows more from left-field pop bands, like The Kinks and T. Rex. The album is full od unexpected and rewarding flourishes: the sinewy guitar on “Atlanta,” the high-pop grandeur combination of handclaps and strings, married to the jaggy rock-and-rollisms on “Abandon,” and the joyous riffery of “Carried Away.”

For a band putting out quality albums at the rate of every other year—this release being their fourth studio abum—The French Kicks have been able to tap into their energy, exploit their creativity in all its different streams, and maintain their momentum. The result of their efforts is Swimming, a pleasant and cohesive album from a band that could have easily fallen into rock'n'roll pigeonholes like most of their NYC rock brethren, but that thankfully hasn't.

—Chris Hassiotis
05.21.08

On Swimming, the French Kicks trade the shiny electronics of Two Thousand for guitars and live percussion, but even though this is the most organic the band has sounded since One Time Bells, the intricate arrangements and production that were Two Thousand's focal points remain. Swimming is, well, swimming in lavish sounds, with layers and layers of blissful harmonies and melodies, chiming guitars, and drumming that is subtle but still manages to stand out from its surroundings. Unfortunately, as on Two Thousand, these beautiful, inviting sonics overwhelm the songs they're attached to. Too often, it's easier to notice the decorations -- like "Carried Away"'s strummy guitars and flute-like keyboards, or the big drum buildup that opens "The Way You Arrive" -- than what they're decorating. Much of Swimming blurs into an attractive wash that sounds appealing in the moment, but leaves very little lasting impression; tracks like "Atlanta," "New Man" and "Said So What" end up being just too subtle for their own good. However, there are a few more memorable songs here than there were on Two Thousand. "Abandon" and "Love in the Ruins" bring back a little of the band's early, post-punk worshipping sharpness, giving some edge and shape to Swimming's softness; "With the Fishes"' shimmying beat and shimmering guitars feel like a dream pop twist on '50s rock, and "All Our Weekends," a bittersweet look at a samey relationship, actually uses the album's repetitive sounds to its advantage. However, by the time "This Could Go Wrong" ends Swimming even more gently than it started, it feels like you've remembered these pretty songs instead of actually hearing them. It's almost impossible to dislike Swimming's pastel beauty, but it's nearly as difficult to work up much enthusiasm about it. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide