French people ... I swear, how much more superficial can you be, Plastiscines?
Let me get the rant out of the way and then I'll tell you how much I love these girls.
Okay. Plastiscines are from Paris, and it sounds and looks to me like the four girls used to be models -- or still are? -- and then, one day, some Prada designer saw them and thought, "WOW! Those girls would look so much hotter playing guitars, bass, and drums!"
Sure enough, the foursome are now clad not only with super sleek and sexy instruments but matching $300 jeans, mini skirts, beautiful leather jackets, and ridiculously pricey haircuts.
And they've got me. This is a girl group at it's most appealing for me; a completely produced entity at it's most worthwhile and compelling.
The music itself isn't incredible, but it's fun and rough and those are things that -- by today's standards -- have sexy and "must-have" written all over them.
It's punky, it's New Wave-y, and it's oh-so French. Remember Plastic Bertrand? Remember how they were French? Remember how they flopped? Plastiscines are like: the most genuine of efforts, but the country's still so damn indecisive and in constant revolution.
Hey, I love it. Check some of this out. (Indie my ass ... these girls are signed to bloody Virgin.)