For a guest-list only (read: free) evening at Fontana’s in SoHo, in a claustrophobic little room, indie-rock stalwarts the French Kicks took the tiny downstairs stage following fellow New York rockers Jacksonknife.
The event was sponsored by Camel cigarettes—a theme that wasn’t so much as hinted at save a cheery cigarette girl in full regalia.
About forty-five minutes before the headliners went on, the suspense was palpable, as the crowd brimmed with anticipation—some solid indie music was in store, and there was an RSVP list for goodness sake (which always makes one feel special). Plus, the Kicks were doing a performance gratuit (that’s French for “free”). (Note: besides their name, the ensemble’s French connection only makes its presence known on one track—“Cloche,” French for bell—on their 2006-released disc Two Thousand.)
The Brooklyn-based four-piece features vocalist/keyboardist Nick Stumpf, who—it was immediately clear—possesses a chilled-out stage presence that fits perfectly with the group’s sprawling, trippy sound and his drawn out delivery. Stumpf, whose brother Lawrence assumes bass duties in the quartet, started out on guitar, then three songs in manned the keyboard, later played bass, and would continue to switch instruments throughout the night. Early on in the show, Nick announced that their next gig in the New York area would be in April, just after the release of their new album.
About halfway into the set, guitarist Josh Wise took over lead vocals, singing one of their new songs “Carried Away,” which showcased the group’s fluency in bubbly indie-pop and saw drummer Aaron Thurston keep the beat with maracas. With Nick Stumpf back on keys—and shaking an orange—a few numbers later, the outfit hit their stride as Wise again took on lead vocals.
By turns, the French Kicks displayed deftness in a range of closely-tied genres—with Stumpf on the keyboard next to the band’s solid rhythm section, they shaded spacey and electronic prog rock in a latter-day Radiohead vein; then up-tempo garage rock, akin to the Strokes, guided by Thurston’s breakneck drumming.
Often introspective, though always brimming with energy, the French Kicks grooved through about twelve songs—including a one-song encore—with aplomb and ease. Les coups-de-pied (that’s French for “the Kicks”) did their best to make sure everyone in attendance at Fontana’s on this February night was, despite the freezing weather, feeling pleased and mellow, though certainly very rock ‘n roll (that’s French for “rock ‘n roll”).
--Andrew Palmacci
