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Rating: An impressive debut to say the least from the French band La Femme, who from the Atlantic shores of Biarritz deliver us a work with a captivating, danceable, and electrifying energy, yet at the same time, is filled with flashes of psychedelic surrealism capable of satisfying even the most demanding tastes.
The title and cover image do not lie: with Psycho Tropical Berlin we are faced with a carefree and spirited declaration of intent, with a distinctly postmodern flavor. What strikes the most is the heterogeneity of the material and the underlying influences, evident not only in the transition from one track to another but even within the internal components of the individual pieces.
The result is a playful potpourri of reinterpretation where various elements converge, perfectly amalgamated: old-school French pop styles, irresistible surf melodies, evocative reverberating psychedelic backdrops, echoes of Kraut electronics, a certain punk and new wave flair.
The journey begins straight into the action with the energetic rhythm of carefree and far from trivial tracks like the Dadaist Antitaxi and Amour Dans Le Motu, which in the second half, veers towards the forms of a seductive exotic lysergy, and later, leads to the cinematic suggestions emanated by the self-titled La Femme and the subsequent Hypsoline (with its related interlude), one with a Tarantino vocation, the other more distinctly Lynchian, in its dreamy and hypnotic surrealism.
Then it's time for the lead single Sur La Planche 2013, a compelling surf pop earworm that counterbalances the expansive acid atmospheres of It’s Time To Wake Up 2023, a phenomenal piece able to blend references from the Velvet Underground and Indian-flavored psychedelia with a Krautrock matrix that directly recalls fellow countrymen Stereolab. The same references are found in the subsequent Nous Étions Deux, where an additional Serge Gainsbourg singer-songwriter mood is added along with an ending that has a shoegaze flavor.
With Packshot and Welcome America, we find ourselves in the realm of French-style electronic punk, while Saisis La Corde brings to mind Fellinian circus shows and industrial noises from the suburbs, and Le Blues De Françoise carries the cadence of a small organ nursery rhyme with trip-hop nuances. They are followed by an overtly synthpop song like Si Un Jour and the tribal-psychedelic hypnosis of La Femme Ressort, graced by the delightful vocalizations of singer Clémence Quélennec.
In conclusion, Psycho Tropical Berlin is a truly enjoyable and fun album to listen to, flowing without losing its grip for even a moment, but also a brilliant display of writing that bodes well for the future of this young French band.
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