The Feeling Of Love – Live At Route Du Rock: Collection d’Hiver – 2013 – Past Daily Soundbooth: Rock Without Borders
The Feeling Of Love – Live At Route du Rock: Collection d’Hiver – February 17, 2013 – Radio France International –
A taste of Parisian Punk tonight by way of The Feeling of Love, as they were recorded in concert at the Route du Rock, Winter Collection on February 17, 2013.
I recently ran across this article in The Agit Reader, written by Helen J. Grose which gives you a glimpse into the band, if you aren’t already familiar (they have been on a U.S. tour; twice).:
The Feeling of Love
by Helen J. Grose
” They don’t tour Germany and they don’t play garage music, but the Feeling of Love do create music from seemingly twisted inspirations. Scampering once again from their bunker in the small French town of Metz, they’ve taken all that was bang-on with their last LP, OK Judge Revival, further obsessed on repetition, and contorted it with a heavier psychedelic sway. In short, Dissolve Me is good.
With the band committed to finding the “trance,” the keyboard has pulled up its odd socks, and the monolithic drums relent nothing as they succeed fully in reaching a state of abstraction. But the reverb is what makes your head feel like someone is blowing up a balloon in there. You’d not be unique in thinking you’re drunk upon listening to this, although you know full well you are straight as an arrow and haven’t touched a drop or powder of nothing. This album reminds me of the endless times I’ve had to use walls to walk in a straight line.
Opener “Cellophane Face” is a standout no doubt. A lovely teeter between Spacemen 3 and Roger and the Gypsies’ “Pass the Hatchet,” it’s obviously taken very strong cues, but works absurdly well nonetheless. It’s a knockout surrogate beholding an excellent result of two such oddities colliding.
On title track “Dissolve Me,” it sounds like the hand reaching for a guitar accidentally snatched a raygun, and the drums thud along with a relentless charge. If sloths could play instruments and held a penchant for reverb—and just happened upon chance to listen to Suicide—this would be their encore song. And somewhere along the way a pack of cheeky French rascals started a mutinous sing-a-long. It stomps along in a strangely sluggish way, and then you’re left imbibed in their chanting vocals.
Lyrics of the past have included rape, torture and jailbait, and it’s a pleasure to hear that they still remain negative and perverted, although that’s apparently debatable. So while they pummel you with the means to get your knees twitching, don’t overlook that they are indeed talking about strangulation via plastic bags, your mum’s dress, and your dad’s pants.
Fettered by money, the Feeling of Love members still reside in Metz, a town beautifully historical, but not one you’d presume has residents itching with anticipation of what is bashing about in the space krautrock circles. But it is environments like these that beget pleasure for us. It’s progressively harder to blaze trails these days, but it’s invigorating when a band lets all the wonder previously heard ferment, allow it to rot for a petite stint, then head to the studio. The Feeling of Love are hitting their stride, albeit a brazenly mischievous one, but most definitely a rousing one.”
Crank it up and get ready for the Three-Day Weekend.