|
|
French indie band Tahiti 80 making waves worldwide
By Michael Trammell
Who knew the Japanese were such Francophiles?
I'd spotted the Japanimation-styled CD cover of Tahiti 80's Puzzle in the indie rock racks of a Tallahassee record shop back in 2000. The fact the music producers were an outfit called Atmospheriques reeled me in.
I asked the clerk for a listen, swung on the headphones and had the album's first track, "Yellow Butterfly," swirl into my ear. A plaintive but spot-on-key voice yearned while an acoustic guitar strummed in the background. Then a pause. Next, a drumbeat, a funky rock rhythm, followed by a moderate samba-ish bass line, jangley electric guitar, and a reach-for-the sky voice with rich harmonies smoothing the way into a funkadelic sound.
No wonder the British press called these European boys the retro-futurists of the new century.
Tahiti 80 blends pop, soul, funk, and psychedelic synthy sensibilities into an indie rock mix that is next to impossible not to fall in love with. Catching this French quartet live in London in the summer of 2001 cemented the deal for me.
I waited an hour in line on the side street entrance to the Bar Fly Club in North London, praying the 30 yards of impatient young Brits ahead of me would scoot off to locales more their speed. One hour turned to two. The line thinned. I slid closer to the front.
Finally, we were allowed to slap down our ten quid notes in the bouncer's cash register and climb the stairs to a black box of a room with a tiny bar in back and a smaller stage in front. I squeezed my tall frame against a corner that jutted into the packed, standing-room-only viewing area. Folks behind me were not so lucky. I saw the stage; they saw the side of the bar and the grim bartender's goatee.
The lights went down, then up. Xavier Boyer, the lead singer and primary songwriter, sat hunched over an electric piano. Pedro Resende, a slightly paunchy but jolly bass player grooved into the bass, his fingers plunking a mad jazzy line. Mederic Gontier thrummed a syncopated chord progression on his Stratocaster. Sylvain Marchand tapped his snare. And then the vocals. Amazingly, Boyer sounded as clear, soulful, and perfect-pitched as he had on the CD, his voice a combo of pop angelic and reflective, tuneful folk.
The wall's corner jutted into my sternum, but I stood as happy as a child at the London Zoo as Tahiti 80 soared through most of the tracks on their debut CD Puzzle and several from the EP A Love from Outer Space. The Parisian rockers switched instruments with ease - on one song Boyer played bass, Resende popped along on percussion, and Marchand plunked a synthesizer. Incredible. Equally as incredible was the Brit crowd's manners. People squeezed against the stage would swim through the bodies, all the way to the bar, buy two pints of Bulmers, and then meander back past rows of shoulders and elbows, working hard not to spill the ale, to return to the front. No one shot even one dirty look.
The Japanese, oddly enough Tahiti 80s biggest fans, wouldn't have lasted a second in the Bar Fly Club's tight quarters. Despite the Japanese's issues with personal space, they have no issues with the Parisians' sound. Two of Tahiti 80's records have gone Gold (for selling over 100,000 copies) in Japan. And the trend continues with their latest release titled Fosbury.
"We've just come back from Tokyo for a promotional trip, and the people we've met, journalists, seemed to be really into our album," writes Boyer on Tahiti 80.com. The Frenchman seemed quite pleasedwith the response from his Asian fans.
"Our new single "Changes" is already out over there. It's too soon to sing it at a karaoke, but it's played a lot on the radio," says Boyer.
Here in the U.S., an instrumental track by the group has been hitting the TV a lot on recent Saturn car commercials. Perhaps this marks the emergence of the group from obscurity. Or not.
Don't wait on the public to make the Tahiti 80 pop-sound truly pop. Check Fosbury or any Tahiti 80 CD out yourself if you want something new, brilliant, and fresh.
|
