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"Glammy punk, sleezy disco...neo synth-pop, Côte d'Azur kitsch and even some really pretty chansons..." --Montreal Mirror

"With the right amount of sincerity and sardonicism, for the the first time in history, the world might just surrender to the French" --URB mag

"I surrender." -- BUST

	H Magazine Summer 2008 When your video’s been banned by YouTube, does that mean you’ve truly arrived? full story...
	Paris Obs JEUDI 12 Juillet 2007 On l'a vu avec les Pipettes tout au long de l'année dernière, le pastiche ( ou remise à niveau pour les jeunes générations ) sixties a la cote. Mais quoi de plus flatteur, a priori, pour l'ego national que de voir qu'à New York un journaliste, un champion d'Air Guitar, un sommelier, un professeur de science politique, tous américains, et une artiste française, ont lancé un groupe parodiant, en français et en anglais, Dutronc, Hardy et autres yéyés franchouillards ? Il est même plutôt étonnant de voir dans un club branché de Brooklyn un « Jean-Luc Retard » et une « Céline Dijon » ( leurs pseudonymes-blagues ) chanter avec un accent approximatif des histoires de « Fille atomique » devant un public médusé. Mais quel intérêt pour un public parisien peut bien présenter ce « Grand Guignol bilingue » ? A vrai dire, voir l'héritage musical des yéyés revisité à coups de riffs garage, d'électro et d'autodérision, c'est assez jubilatoire. La mondialisation amusante.
	Parisist Show Review (Paris, France) Feb 7 , 2007 The jury was out, as far as Parisist was concerned, on the advisability of a New York band pretending, coyly, to be French. But last night at the Paris-Paris, Nous Non Plus made their case loud and long, converting all naysayers with their dizzying energy, brilliant lyrics and infectious melodies, all rooted in a solid drumbeat. And, it turns out, one member of the band, one who does a lot of singing, is actually French. Nous Non Plus (unlike its previous incarnation as Les Sans Culottes) is proving to be way more than a gimmick, and more than just the sum of their influences... (cont.)

	Spin CMJ Recap Jan, 2007 Céline Dijon at the Cutting Room with Juliette and Ben from labelmates Hello Stranger

URB magazine LA show review March, 2006 "The sort of thing that makes older hipsters cream themselves...Part Gainsbourg, Bacharach, Gilberto and Le Pew...Céline captivated with an-impossible-not-to-stare-at bare midriff and a playful sensuality."

Bust Magazine Review Music Issue, Jan 24 "Nous Non Plus boasts the musical muscles that Les Sans Culottes lacked...60's faux-French pop, punk rock circa 1976, and sweet Edith Piaf meets-dreamy-indie ballads that overflow with confident savoir-faire."

From LA Weekly Jan 21, 2006 "What seems to have happened is that a fake French pop band became a (more) real, attorney-free rock band—which is much better, anyway. Nous Non Plus have been, how you say, liberated, and their exuberant new self-titled album is currently in CMJ's Top 10 with heavies like Wilco and My Morning Jacket."

From Playgirl Magazine (?!) Feb, 2006 "Poppy and sexy...Nous Non Plus do their respective countries proud."

Urb Magazine Feb, 2006

F5 Witchita Alt Music :: Around Hear Jan 26, 2006

Montreal Mirror Mar 3, 2006

Voir \ Canada Mar 4, 2006

Emorgei \ Canada March, 2006

From Weekend America on American Public Radio
Jan 7, 2006
They're obsessed with French pop music, but the band Nous Non Plus hails from New York. Weekend America host Bill Radke talks to Mark Wheat, of the Minneapolis radio station The Current, about their new CD which crosses classic French romantic sounds with American rock and roll. Écoutez.

From Eugene Weekly
Jan 19, 2006
Bonjour. We here at EW know how many of our fellow Eugeneans are loyal members of the Bill O'Reilly army and have taken his slandering of the "cowardly" French to heart. But we believe in equal-opportunity media exposure, so we felt it necessary to spend a few moments telling you about the hottest French band presently touring within our borders … even if they're just barely French. …Nous Non Plus …Nous Non Plus' chanteuse (female vocalist) Céline Dijon (ah!) hails from Paris, but the other six members of NNP come from foreign places like Pittsburgh, Denver and San Francisco. The septet actually met at the Rhode Island School of Design in the early 1990s and transplanted to New York City in 1998. Their music is a tongue-in-cheek American interpretation of French pop, but the songs are catchy with a dancehall-friendly sound. >>Full Review<<From Portland Mercury
Jan 24, 2006
Made up of a Frenchy and a buncha Yanks, Nous Non Plus play spunky (what a gross word) French-sung glam punk. It's a little like Stereo Total or the scene in National Lampoon's European Vacation where Chevy Chase and the family are in the art museum on fast-motion. And it's a total gimmick, a joke: hoaky, kitchy, but it's good. And that's my problem with it; I don't wanna traffic in flimsy hipster "art projects" like this, but their new record (self-titled) is catchy, exciting, and never dull or hackneyed or too obvious. It's like ABBA if ABBA were Frogs, punk, and not dating each other. Like Stereo Total, it loses its effect when they sing in English, but the dude who does the English-sung lyrics is so fucking sleazy I wanna hang out with him and hit the town in search of greasy kicks. I dunno... why am I apologizing and second-guessing and disclaimering—why front, why fight the urge to gush—I LOVE this shit. Ever see the 1970 Richard Strick film version of Tropic of Cancer, the one with Rip Torn as Henry Miller? This's kinda the music version. Greasy. Greeeasy. AG

From Slipcue.com
November, 2005
An outstanding album by this spinoff of New York's faux-French frogpop band, Les Sans Culottes. Unlike the various Sans Culottes albums, this disc seems like less of a one-note joke, displaying instead greater musical depth and variety, ranging from breathy, Francoise Hardy-esque ballads to nervy '77-style punk, jittery technobleepery ala StereoTotal, steamy Roxy Music-ish synthpop and New Wave, dreamy modern indie stuff... all done with great aplomb. The French-language lyrics remain blithe, silly and self-mocking, but the musical chameleon act is quite impressive. This is a darn good record; definitely worth checking out!

From Babysue.com
January, 2006
Really great upbeat escapist dance pop. ...Nous Non Plus was formed from fragments of Les Sans Culottes. As such, they are continuing with the same basic mission...writing and recording what sounds like French pop...but really isn't. This band seems more groove oriented than Les Sans Culottes. The rhythms are more dance friendly and direct. Simultaneously hilarious and catchy, the tunes on this debut album are incredibly effective...each sticking with the listener like mental super glue. The band consists of Celine Dijon, Jean-Luc Retard, Bonnie Day, Cal d'Hommage, Professeur Harry Covert, Morris "Mars" Chevrolet, and Francois Hardonne. Far from being a mere joke band, the folks in ...Nous Non Plus are providing high quality music that is unique and hypnotic. Ultra creative tracks include "L'Amant," "Lawnmower Boy," "Monokini," and "La Ballade de Tourette." Highly recommended. (Rating: 5+++) From Miami New Times
Dec 1, 2005
Bi-continental septet Nous Non Plus scares up sumptuous, blasé cool on its self-titled debut, whipping elements borrowed from the Strokes, Stereolab, and the B-52s into delectable French pastries. And so we get delights like "Lawnmower Boy," where the band makes like Guitar Wolf on a New Wave kick; the disco hip-shake quake of "Tant Pis Pour Toi," as mirrorball-infectious as anything in Franz Ferdinand's arsenal; and "Monikini," a swank, horn-chart fiesta whose chorus consists of unisex baaaaaas. But the luxurious bubblebath lullaby "Premier Balser" makes for the record's tastiest dish: harplike guitar blush, fluffy trumpets, and Mellotron-like keyboards swishing languidly about as lead vocalists Celine Dijon and Jean-Luch Retard stage-whisper sweet nothings back and forth to one another through the scented steam.

From Splendid.com
December 12, 2005
Nous Non Plus is one undeniable pop gem after another, from "Tant Pis Pour Toi" continental disco to "L'Amant"'s folksy strum and rich strings, to "Fille Atomique"'s sunny, garage-friendly pop, to "Premier Basier"'s sophisticated, jazzy groove. These filles et garcons get their points across regardless of your French-language skills. If there's anyone who can resist "Lawnmower Boy"'s pure, unadulterated bliss, you don't want to have anything to do with him. He's probably a Bill O'Reilly fan. >>Full review<<.

From The Orlando Weekly
December 15, 2005
The members of NNP have funny French pseudonyms and they met at the Rhode Island School of Design. (Although I'm just assuming that they're pseudonyms, the odds are pretty good that the singer was not born with the name Céline Dijon, nor do the bassist's parents call him Jean-Luc Retard.) While the in-joke of the band's goofily Gallic concept is easy to ascribe to collegiate shenanigans, you'd be doing yourself a grave disservice to dismiss Nous Non Plus as being too smart for their own good. In fact, the best thing about this self-titled debut is how much stupid fun it is. Having yet to determine exactly what they want to sound like, François Hardonne (stop me now) and the rest of the band throw a little bit of Plastic Bertrand, a soupçon of Laetitia Sadier and a whole lot of Jane Birkin into the mix. Thus, it swings some ("Monokini"), gets raunchily funky ("One Night in Paris"), loses itself in atmospheric groove ("Après-Soleil") and never allows its knowing wink to turn into a condescending leer. Which makes it not very French at all.

From LoveHasNoLogic.com
Is that Freedom Rock? Then turn it up!!!
November 25th, 2005
What do you get when you cross a slew of non-native french(wo)men, over the top sexual energy, fuzzed out guitars, up and down bounce-a-second rhythms, a background in design and an ex-members tag that admittedly means absolutely nothing to me? An album that would be impossible for me to hate, that’s what. Nous Non Plus - Lawnmower Boy from the Self-Titled CD which was released on Aeronaut Records. Much in a similar fashion that I imagine Japanese music lovers obsessing to no end over their favorite American sounds based off of stories I’ve heard and bands I’ve talked to, I obsess over all things European and pop. Throw in an accent, foreign language, some keyboards and some ultra tight melodies and I’m hooked like a three-eyed fish. Nous Non Plus‘ debut album is nothing short of perfect with it’s rough around the edges guitars, simply too good to be true multi-dueling (how do you refer to three? tripletted, trilling, trinourmous, voiceriferous tri-force?) vocals, unassuming rhythm section and super smooth keys. Me = swoon. Love it. Record comes out Tuesday. Record release show at Mercury Lounge in NYC on Dec. 1st. Oh, and how cute as shit is that cough halfway through the song at the beat break? Yeah, try not to love this one.From San Diego City Beat
December 14, 2005

Goes Well With: Serge Gainsbourg, Nouvelle Vauge, Camus Conundrum White

In a world filled with sour shoegazing and psuedo-political pop-punk, it’s easy to lose sight of life’s simple pleasures: a sip of wine, the taste of fine brie and the gentle sounds of a feminine voice talking about threesomes. Sounds lovely, oui? The debut of the New York band formerly known as Les Sans Culottes (minus a member or two) is a tongue-in-cheek romp through overblown sexual and euro-trash themes, flavored liberally with electronica à la Casio, disco and Yé Yé pop. >>Full Review<<

From Neumu
Nous Non Plus are an offshoot of the great Franco-Brooklyn-esque Les Sans Culottes, and, if you speak French, I believe you can get the full story of their battle for the heart and soul (and brand name) of this synth and drum-machine-enhanced Euro-pop predecessor in "Tante Pis Pour Toi" ("Too Bad for You"). The song mentions the former and current names of the band, and it has a wah-wah laced, disco-rhythmed "fuck you" vibe that's instantly recognizable, if not translatable. Even at its bitterest and most biting, however, this is a band that manages to keep the dance beat going, and its self-titled debut is as sexy, as fun, as party-ready as you could ask for. That the band is not actually, literally French (with the exception of Celine Dijon) adds an intriguing layer of irony to the whole enterprise. As those characters in French 101 foreign language films are always saying, "Formidable!" >>Full Review<< Slate.com
October 24, 2005
Jean-Luc's rendition of the events that led to the formation of ...Nous Non Plus

Here is a sampling of press from when the members of Nous Non Plus were in Les Sans Culottes.

Washington City Paper
City Lights
By Anne Marson
From the August 13, 2004 issue

A joke band is no longer a joke when its members' songwriting skills surpass their humor. Take Brooklyn's Les Sans Culottes (roughly translated as Those Without Underpants), which has been making guitar-driven, daffy, '60s-style French pop (think slumming ye-ye) since assembling at the Rhode Island School of Design in the mid-'90s. The Culottes' fourth full-length, Fixation Orale, finds the mostly American-born septet (only chanteuse Celine Dijon is a real Frenchie) firmly in character, jerking along to arch lyrics in the language of stinky cheese and stinkier love. But one needn't have suffered through high-school French or the Jerry Lewis catalog to appreciate the vulgar obviousness of such noms de rock as Mars Chevrolet and Jean-Luc Retard.

LA Weekly - Weekend Pick
by LA Weekly Staff
4/3/04

Les French--Why are they so very trés enchanté? Je ne sais pas, but ici est un spirited sept-member ensemble from l'arrondissement known as Brooklyn (pronounced "Bruke-leen"), which we couldn't locate on a map but must be the Silver Lake of Paris, judging by the band's mismatched old clothes and smoky aura that's both alluring and repulsive. Named for the "ill-clad and ill-equipped volunteers of the French Revolutionary army." Les Sans Culottes (meaning "without underpants") take on the '60s French pop sound of Serge Gainsbourg and add arrangements a` la the 5th Dimension to ridiculously groovy effect. Their Faux Realism (yeah, they met at art school) CD features such escargot-y fluff as "Non Merci, Oncle Sam".

The Missoula Independent
by Andy Smetanka
6/24/04

France has always been pretty isolationist in its pop outlook. Inlook is more like it. They've never really seemed to have the band thing down, and even the few French bands that could accurately be described as "big" anywhere outside of France can be a little perplexing. Air? What's their deal? Has no one in France bought a new record since 1978?

But Great Ghost of Charlemagne, if Les Sans Culottes isn't the most adorable band since Shonen Knife, I'll eat a shoe with cheese on it and have the waiter massage my grandmother. Dirt-simple breakneck pop with glacially cool female vocals backing a hepcat who sounds like he wears Converse All-Stars with his kerchief and Breton fisherman's sweater. The women wear mini-skirts and in real life probably look like they just stepped off the improvised set of Breathless or Vivre sa Vie.

They sing in French and English in the same song, and the less you speak of one, the more enjoyable it probably is. They also sing a song in Esperanto.

They have names like Mars Chevrolet and Kit Kat Le Noir. They wonder, lyrically, what the English is for "je ne sais quoi" "allo âllo" hands down the catchiest slice of francophone Dada yeh-yeh since the Plastic Bertrand?s ?Ca Plane Pour Moi.? They call each other ?my little cabbage.? Sixty times in a row listening to it just isn?t enough.

San Francisco Weekly
by SILKE TUDOR
3/31/04

Les Sans Culottes. Loosely translated as "Those Without Undergarments," this Brooklyn-based septet performs picture-perfect Parisian ye-ye -- the sassy, sparkly equivalent of American go-go music -- in French, with a profusion of feather boas, silk scarves, and below-the-belt attitude. Truth be told, only one member, Celine Dijon, has any blood ties to France, but that hasn't stopped Kit Kat Le Noir, Jean Luc Retard, Pascal Blase?L, Morris "Mars" Chevrolet, Cal d'Hommage, and the singing style-czar Clermont Ferrand from acquiring ridiculous accents and laudable savoir-faire. In fact, so adept are these Brooklynites at resurrecting the wild, sex-and-popper-soaked world of the 1960s Parisian discothe`que that you might forget yourself and light up a cigarette right there on the dance floor and, through the smoke-induced haze, imagine Francoise Hardy and Jacques Dutronc up there onstage, with Serge Gainsbourg and Brigitte Bardot smirking in the corner. While music this effervescent and visceral hardly requires content, a French-speaking pal assures me that Les Sans Culottes are lyrically quite clever, which might account for the group's staying power. After six years, faux ye-ye might begin to wear thin if it were not rife with some sort of intellectual challenge. And indeed, if the broken-English intros are any indication -- "SOS Elephants" is "a tale about a group of animals escaping from a zoo in Paris. It's part of a long tradition of this, animals taking revenge" -- there's more to Les Sans Culottes than a proliferation of keywords like Balzac and Apollinaire and irrepressible pop music. There's a healthy does of foolishness, too.

BabySue.com
by LMNOP
6 /12/04

his seven-piece band includes members from Paris, La Jolla, San Francisco, Pittsburgh, and Denver...all of whom contribute their mental and physical elements to create the challenging and unpredictable sound of Les Sans Culottes. Perhaps because the members come from so many disparate places, the band's sound collects sounds and ideas from all over the map. These folks now reside in Brooklyn...having taken up permanent residence as the New York band most likely to find an appropriate audience. The band is unique in that they sing all of their tunes in French...a rather unlikely choice for an American band. Les Sans Culottes tunes sound something like Serge Gainsbourg...if he were in a modern indie garage pop/rock band. Fixation Orale contains a wealth of upbeat, melodic nuggets...including "Toxico (the Addict)," "Tout Va Bien (I'm Alright)," and "Deux Boules de Glace (Two Scoops of Ice Cream)." Simultaneously funny and entertaining...and quite stylish to boot... (Rating: 5)

Time Out New York
by Mike Wolf
3 /12/04

Brooklyn's Les Sans Culottes have taken the whole faux-French-band thing pretty far-the group's live shows are superenergetic, fake-multicultural events. You might not learn anything about French culcha, but you'll probably hop around like a lunatic, just like the terrific backup singers do (and by terrific, yes, we mean hot).

Soul Shine
by LW
5/18/04

French power pop strikes again! Their indie French drawl makes "Allo Allo" a ringing success. All the high school French goes out the window and returns as fun, chic words like "Telephone Douche". A follow up to their more rock-centric debut album, "Fixation Orale" brings the softer side of the band to the forefront. This is most evident on "Tout Vabien". Les Sans Culottes do however carry enough drive to make the French side of the Cheerios box develop new meaning.

Rolling Stone Magazine
by BENJAMIN FRIEDLAND
7/17/04

It takes a special strand of rock & roll quirk -- or is it lunacy -- to be an American-born band but sing in French. Yet the seven hipsters in Les Sans Culottes ("Those Without Undergarments") may just pull it off -- and, to be fair, one of the group's singers is originally from Paris. The rest, though, hail from the States, all eventually enrolling in the Rhode Island School of Design, where they formed. And on Fixation Orale, their fourth proper album, the Brooklyn-based septet bops through twelve tightly-wound guitar-songs that might otherwise be Kinks-like, if it weren't for all the French. As it is, this sharp pop is ironically inventive and totally fun. Swirling keyboards and airy, toe-tapping rhythms flutter around boy-girl harmonies that discuss "menage a toi"s and ice cream. Sill, though, it's near impossible not to snicker at the band and wonder if they're for real. Perhaps some questions are better left unanswered.

Slipcue E-Zine
by The Slipcue Staff
7/27/04

If the Bay City Rollers had been French instead of Scottish, and fell into the thrall of some dadaist garage rock scene run by Esperanto cultists... Well, they might have sounded a bit like this gleefully tounge-in-cheek "French" rock band from Los Angeles, who giddily skip from rock genre to rock genre as easily and breezily as they slide between languages. Cracking jokes in pidgin French, broken English, and whatever random syllables seem to be laying around at hand, these folks make no sense, but they sure have fun. The crunchier guitar riffs may be a little hard-rocking for your average frog-pop fans, but folks who liked April March's collaborations with The Makers may find kindred spirits here. I haven't seen them live, but I imagine they are a lot of fun.

The Boston Globe
by The Globe Staff
5/21/04

In Les Sans Culottes, Francophiles have found their B-52's. Not since singer France Gall pranced her way through "Teenie Weenie Boppie" in the late '60s has French pop sounded so danceable and infectious. And to think such revelry comes from a Brooklyn band whose name, which once referred to 18th-century French revolutionaries, now translates as "Those Without Undergarments." Gall's perkiness, it turns out, enlightens much of the material on "Fixation Orale." Les Sans Culottes even covers her Eurovision hit, "Poupee de Cire." Band members hail from, among other places, Paris and Detroit, and you can tell they've been listening to equal parts Serge Gainsbourg and MC5, especially on the rollicking "Train a Grande Vitesse." The band's fifth release runs the gamut of styles, from sugary-sweet pop to lean garage rock. Ten of the 11 songs are sung in French, with one in French and English, and one in Esperanto. "Tout Va Bien" could induce a cavity with its gooey, echoed choruses, and on "Menage a Toi" band leader Clermont Ferrand orders, "Tell your ma/ Tell your pa/ I think we can make a menage a toi." But the cheekiness transcends the songs: The two female singers are named Kit Kat Le Noir and Celine Dijon. Can't you just see the beehives? In Les Sans Culottes, Francophiles have found their B-52's. Not since singer France Gall pranced her way through "Teenie Weenie Boppie" in the late '60s has French pop sounded so danceable and infectious. And to think such revelry comes from a Brooklyn band whose name, which once referred to 18th-century French revolutionaries, now translates as "Those Without Undergarments." Gall's perkiness, it turns out, enlightens much of the material on "Fixation Orale." Les Sans Culottes even covers her Eurovision hit, "Poupee de Cire." Band members hail from, among other places, Paris and Detroit, and you can tell they've been listening to equal parts Serge Gainsbourg and MC5, especially on the rollicking "Train a Grande Vitesse." The band's fifth release runs the gamut of styles, from sugary-sweet pop to lean garage rock. Ten of the 11 songs are sung in French, with one in French and English, and one in Esperanto. "Tout Va Bien" could induce a cavity with its gooey, echoed choruses, and on "Menage a Toi" band leader Clermont Ferrand orders, "Tell your ma/ Tell your pa/ I think we can make a menage a toi." But the cheekiness transcends the songs: The two female singers are named Kit Kat Le Noir and Celine Dijon. Can't you just see the beehives?

Junk Media Magazine
by Jay Breitling
7/4/04

Fabricated in some twisted rock and roll research lab at RISD, this septet of Francophiles delivers a searing set high on concept (an American act spot-on recreating a French approximation of a British appropriation of an African-American art form) - and probably pills, lots of pills. The Brooklyn-based outfit's take on fuzzed-out '60s French pop, complete with lyrics delivered in the mother tongue, charges headlong out of the speakers armed with mind-melting organ solos ("Telephone Douche") and mop-top guitars ("Allo Allo"). The record's shaggy, retro sound is purposefully authentic, but its boundless energy makes Fixation Orale fairly addictive listening and dispels any concern that the kitsch and novelty of the act takes precedence over the music.

No mean feat, considering the overwhelming majority of LSC's fan base, and even this reviewer, doesn't know what the hell the singers are singing about (telephone douche?), except, of course, for the obligatory rocker about a menage a trois. But armed with the sophisticated whimsy of Belle and Sebastian and Les Savy Fav's pilled-up mania, Les Sans Culottes seem poised to supersede French Roast as the hottest Gallic thing in the minds of America's hipsters.

Voir Noir
by E?Ltienne Roy
4/29/04

La plus francaise des formations ame?Lricaines signe un nouvel album, son quatrie`me depuis ses de?Lbuts a` Brooklyn en 1998. Ces francophiles, fe?Lrus de la pop des anne?Les 60 des Gainsbourg, Ferrer et Dutronc, nous servent 11 titres originaux - 11 pie`ces franco et une en espe?Lranto - ainsi qu'une reprise de Poupe?Le de cire. Malgre?L la futilite?L de cette dernie`re, les compositions de cette joyeuse bande sont agre?Lables, inspire?Les et fide`les aux glorieuses anne?Les ye?L-ye?L. En fait, elles de?Lpassent largement le cadre de ce courant autrefois fort prise?L, puisant leurs influences e?Lgalement dans la pop ame?Lricaine et britannique (r&b, psyche?Lde?Llique, garage, etc.). Les musiciens (La Parisienne, Ce?Lline Dijon, Kit Kat le noir et Clermont-Ferrand) cachent fort mal leur accent amerloque mais, somme toute, Les Sans Culottes n'en demeurent pas moins so charming!

LA Citybeat
Tangier Show Review by Ron Garmom
4/3/04

The fun in watching...les sans culottes...and..the band's lively exoticisme...60's french ye ye pop...groovy...neat filets of seeds-dolls-surfaris-raspberries-stooges...ferrand's sultry croon is the product of six years of painful dues paying having his wet way with lyrics en francais...kit kat le noir and celin dijon provided chick decoration...intriguing...high-concept...rock..hips wriggled...heads bobbed...jacked hooky baby. .. punk-ass satirists pissing on Yakov Smirnoff.

Soulshine
Canada's Essential Guide to New MusicLes Sans Culottes
Album Title: Faux Realism
Rating: * * * *
Genre: French Pop

Have you noticed that music has lost its spunk for the francais? The Flaming Lips may do wonders for the costume business, but where is the va-va-va-voom? Brooklyn's Les Sans Culottes ripen the big apple of 1960s French "ye ye" pop and allow you to take a bite out of a sound that reinvents classic beauty and vibrancy of the yesteryears of French culture and fashion. Each track has a kick in its chorus that keeps you bopping your head and swinging your hips. The French Evolution is here.

Weekly Dig
LES SANS CULOTTES
Live in Paris CD (DCN)
by Sam Howard

I was once in a band with French conceits; I wasn't so good at musicking but was kept on for my decent faux-French accent. This septet does it grievously well. Moving past the party-party histrionics, a listener gets struck by the musical-linguistic fluency of the girls and boys of Les Sans Culottes. They know how to both play and pronounce. In the end, however convincing their aspect, they play too well and mirthfully to be merely French. What's more, the Sans Culottes theater is elevated above carnival shtick or mortal silliness by the strong parts of their '60s garage and Rive-Gauche rousting go-go. This is a performance in purple, a show, but its strength is greater than the gag-names, the lusty songs about Balzac and Appollinaire, the costuming and clowning. The girls gown a good deal of the songs in sultry velvets, offset ably by Clermont's fervid, tummy-contracting salvos. From the testimony of this album, a live show is even bolder and brighter than the night of the Beaujolais Nouveau. Nobody's ever worsened for wine and a rock-Marseillaise. (DCN)

sefronia.com
9/10 stars -- April 2003

Dans "South Park, le film", les gentils kids américains se mettaient à jurer comme des charretiers à cause d'une série télé, et, horrifiés, les États-Unis déclaraient la guerre au Canada. Mais maintenant il est trop tard, l'ennemi agit de l'intérieur : le ver est dans la (grosse) pomme, tout nu et prêt à terroriser l'Amérique puritaine et hygiénique. Depuis six ans et trois disques, Les Sans-Culottes (LSC), autoproclamés "meilleur groupe de rock français en exil", perfectionnent à New York une solide réputation assise sur des concerts hilarants, déjantés et qui rockent dur.

Quelque part entre LSD et SLC ("Salut Les Copains”), ce groupe à la biographie fantaisiste mixe joyeusement dans son shaker pop française "yé-yé" des années soixante et rock garage en un cocktail coloré et euphorisant. "J'suis snob, y'a rien à faire..." fredonnait Boris Vian : depuis Brooklyn, les LSC mettent un point d'honneur à chanter en français. Ils vivent en rêve sur la Rive Gauche, Olympe lointain dont ils s'imaginent descendre, beaux comme des dieux dans leurs tenues Michel Polnareff échappé de "Casanova 70" - avec des épingles à nourrice - et minijupes Saint-Laurent à motif Mondrian.

Leurs chansons sont truffées de name-droppings de références sixties et de lieux parisiens (de Babar aux Buttes-Chaumont en passant par la chaude rue St-Denis) : une géographie apprise amoureusement sur des cartes. Dans leur frigidaire on trouvera plus sûrement de l'Orangina et de la Veuve-Cliquot que du Coca-Cola ; Les Sans-Culottes entendent donner aux yankees une petite leçon de savoir-vivre frenchy and chic ("Non merci Oncle Sam"). Une leçon apprise à l'"Ecole de merde" : de cette bombinette punk et gravement absurde à la sexy et ensoleillée "Sa Sabine", on en voit de toutes les couleurs. Ici pas besoin de Prozac : Balzac et Apollinaire se débauchent sur les rythmiques twist endiablées de Jean-Luc Retard et Harry Covert ; Jacques Dutronc, Nino Ferrer et les Strokes se télescopent au son d'un orgue Hammond priapique ("SOS éléphants"). Comme maître de cérémonie, le "Caruso du Massif Central" : j'ai nommé Clermont Ferrand (!), leader pataphysicien qui fait rocker la langue française comme rarement - Jean-Louis Murat peur retourner se pignoler dans les fougères. La délicieuse Céline Dijon (!!), en solo sur "Les sauvages", égrène ingénument des horreurs cannibales et érotiques, rejointe aux chœurs faussement angéliques par Kit Kat.

Plutôt que sur le remix mou et trop propre de "Funky peripherique" qui sonne comme Imagination, c'est sur la grandiose "Le coq sportif" que devrait s'achever le disque : enregistré live à la très hip Knitting Factory de New York, Céline Dijon réussit le tour de force de faire crier "Cocorico" au public qui en redemande ! Grâce à leur énergie dévastatrice et leur humour, les LSC se jouent des clichés pour livrer moins une parodie qu'un pastiche sincère et éclatant. Furieusement dandys, drôles et "roquefort'n roll" : Les Sans Culottes sont vraiment trop bath : visiter absolument leur site.

SF Examiner
Show Preview - 1/30/2003
Stateside couch potatoes are already unknowingly familiar with the music of the Brooklyn-based Francophiles known as Les Sans Culottes. Their song "L'allumeuse" is featured in the Hewlett-Packard commercial where the young girl uses her HP digital camera to take panoramic shots of Paris from the Eiffel Tower.
Not one of the members of this pseudo-Parisian septet is actually French, but they all virtually eat, sleep and breathe the Left Bank, making kitschy retro Franco-pop. They regularly sell out dates in NYC, where downtown hipsters think they're the cat's meow.

Friday, they bring their fabulous Bardot-inspired sound and over-the-top live show to the Bottom of the Hill, where they'll perform songs from their latest album, "Faux Realism" (Aeronaut Records).

CMJ Monthly
October 2002Les Sans Culottes are a band that delights in a good bad pun - with stage names like Jean Luc Retard and Celine Dijon, they make a musical mélange of garage, cabaret and 60's ye-ye pop that lends itself to descriptions like "Roquefort & Roll.” This ersatz French-by-way-of-Brooklyn septet writes songs in the Franglais of a high school student who’s used his French-English dictionary to look up all the dirty words. To the inattentive listener, the crooning chorus girls and psychedelic organs of songs like "Sa Sabine” are sexy and fun, with the campy, danceable appeal. Those who’ve spent some quality time with French language tapes are rewarded with wry and raunchy translations, and even some playful social commentary ("I do not wish for a McFoie Gras/ Do not supersize me/ It is completely crazy/ The Anglo-Saxon global system of cultural imperialism”).

With their self-released previous albums of cover songs, Les Sans Culottes proved they could ape the "classics” of the genre by the likes of Francoise Hardy and Serge Gainsbourg – material already ripe for satire. Yet somewhere amid the artifice – the day-glo colors and Pepe le Pew accents – Les Sans Culottes show themselves to be more than just a high-kitsch send-up, and deliver something real. –Kerry Miller

Soit dit en passant
Une Interview avec Céline DiJON

La douceur d'une fin d'après-midi de printemps, un drink au bar d'un hôtel cosy de Saint-Germain-des-Prés : sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine mais le temps s'arrête pour Céline Dijon. Charme et distinction : la muse des Sans-Culottes et chanteuse extraordinaire (en français dans le texte), est venue passer quelques jours de repos à Paris; So chic!

Read the interview in Soit dit en passant

Flavorpill - San Francisco
October, 2002

Incroyable! Borrowing heavily from '60s icons like Jacques Dutronc and Serge Gainsbourg, this campy posse has been blowing the proverbial roof off le mother style for over two years. Striking an uneasy balance between reverence and parody, the seven-piece band sings in French, but most certainly rocks like New Yorkers. Their latest CD, Faux Realism, features buoyant and catchy pop songs, but the band is truly best enjoyed live. Singer Clermont Ferrand's heavily accented between-song banter coupled with bassist Jean Luc Retard's outrageous outfits and posing takes the live experience into a hilarious exercise in irony that will not please your French friends. (CA)

The Boston Globe
GO! TUESDAY - Oct, 2002
The French connection
By Christopher Muther, Globe Staff

Francophiles rejoice! Les Sans Culottes, the hippest pop combo this side of the Seine, swing by T. T. the Bear's Place tonight at 9 for a show of sparkling retro rock en francais. Any band that features a singer named Celine Dijon is tops in Go!'s world.

Splendid - e-Zine
October, 2002

At first listen, you might dismiss Les Sans Culottes as a novelty act -- an international, frat-party-rocking bunch of kids playing in the shallow pool of Austin Powers-influenced retro-pop and psychedelia. Between band members with stage names like Celine Dijon, Jean Luc Retard and Kit Kat Le Noir and the sheer goofiness of a band name that translates as "those without undergarments", these folks just reek of gimmickry.

However, LSC have a peculiar kinship with such cult acts as Gwar and Dread Zeppelin: they're all musicians brimming with talent whose fabricated mythology is so irresistibly over the top that listeners are dying to buy into it. Just look at chanteur Clermont Ferrand (ex-Les Refusals): furs, frilly purple shirt, disheveled locks in his eyes, bottle of vodka in tow -- but his sultry croon is honed by six years of painful dues-paying.

Its leap in recording quality aside, Faux Realism could easily have been pulled from a 1967 time capsule. The album's guitar tones, bridges, hooks, backing vocals and even choice of bass guitars invokes some hardcore nostalgia. LSC really did their homework, too -- in addition to collecting the appropriate elements, they've learned how to use them well. Album opener "Sa Sabine" mixes clean electric-guitar arpeggios, a solid back-beat, sexy, feminine "doo doo do doo" vocals, fuzz bass and lyrics like (and bear in mind that this is a translation) "Sabine drives her Saab convertible. Sabine is a yuppie snob. She loves her car. I am dreaming of sand castles."
LSC bust out the mellotron and organ solos, skillfully delivered by key-man Morris "Mars" Chevrolet", on "SOS Elephants", a tune about an escaped elephant in heat. There's a subtle, revolutionary message here, wrapped in a mild gross-out ("He has abundant feeling. He finds ravishing, a powerful politician. One may hear his cries throughout Paris: 'Sos elefants!'"). And just to remind us that this is a modern album (as if elephant-buggery songs were all the rage in '66 -- Ed.), Faux Realism includes the horn-laden, wah-wah heavy Bert Roden remix of "Funky Peripherique", suitable for all manner of modern-day bodily gyrations.

Most of these songs will seem more than a little familiar, inspiring regular episodes of "Hey, isn't that a poorly-disguised rip-off of (fill in the blank)?" Please consult the Spinal Tap rule book on this point. Of course there are licks and chord choices that hauntingly recall classic tunes, but once again, it's simply the musical language and characteristics of popular radio circa 1966-69; how distinct was each song from the next?

-- Dave Madden

SF Weekly
October 2-8, 2002 Night & Day pick

Brooklyn: Home to hip-hop, Manhattan expatriates, bad accents -- and '60's French pop stars? "Oui oui," say the Francophiles of Les Sans Culottes. The seven-piece party band may call Brooklyn home, but it pledges its allegiance to France. With tongues planted firmly in cheek, the New Yorkers have adopted Gallic personas, from silly monikers (Celine Dijion, Kit Kat Le Noir, and Jean Luc Retard for example) to phony broken English. Despite the air of joie de vivre, these bons vivants take their kitsch -- and their music -- seriously, as the new album Faux Realism shows. Even the group's name, roughly translated as "Those without undergarments," is a humourous homage to all things French and a subtle reference to the volunteers of the Revolutionary army. Although the songs' satirical wit can be lost in translation, LSC's cabaret-style act -- complete with mod get-ups, sex-kitten frivolity, and outlandish wigs -- transcends language barriers. Bottom of the Hill, Saturday Oct 5.

Music Dish
Les Sans Culottes - Faux Realism, Aeronaut Records
by: Ben Ohmart (Assistant Editor) 2002-09-20

"...While the music tries not to be influenced much by today's harsh aggressiveness, they do believe in a pristine quality of recording. However, the hype says that this is a group that has to be seen live. Even the New York Daily News says that. Still, this platter of French surf rock will give you an ample appetite for the trek to the East. Influences? Try Serge Gainsbourg, France Gall and Jacques Dutronc. When you've finished looking those names up online, head over to their site and give a listen at just what France was doing while the Beatles were so busy here." Full review

New York Newsday
LES SANS CULOTTES, "Faux Realism" (Aeronaut)

by Kevin Amorim
September 20, 2002

Not just for Francophiles - if any actually exist - Les Sans Culottes' "Faux Realism" could be the soundtrack for "Laugh-In," if Rowan and Martin and the gang spoke French. The seven-piece band, which resettled in Brooklyn a few years back, embraces such a '60s go-go vibe that it's difficult to dislike the group. Even the translation of the group's name is amusing - "those without underwear," or something like that. Just say qui.

YourSound.com
Flying Frenchies CD Review by Andrew Tefft, Sept. 17, 2002 Drawing influence from French musique pop of the go-go '60s this NYC group combines faux-Frenchy silliness with seriously fun pop savoir faire. Meaning "Those Without Undergarments," their namesake refers to the volunteers of the French revolutionary army. After toiling in the trenches of the NYC club circuit for six years, this troupe of misunderstood artistes hopes to truly bestow Le Freak upon us unsuspecting Anglo-Saxon dogs.
The band features ringleader Clermont Ferrand (chanteur), Kit Kat le Noir and Celine Dijon (chantueses), and Jean Luc Retard (basse), among others. The backing band stylishly references pop cliches and propels the go-go beats...and yes, there's a smattering of accordion in there too. Non-Francophones have to reach for a French-English dictionary to fully enjoy the tongue-in-cheekiness of "SOS Elephants!," "Ecole de Merde," and the other tunes. Turning to their website, I found lyrical translations that revealed the depth of their satire. Referencing Francophilia from Balzac to Babar to Gaugin to the clothing line Le Coq Sportif (The Athletic Rooster), the high-brow hilarity made me wish the lyrics were printed with the liner notes or the jokes made more accessible to English ears. Some examples: "No thank you my Uncle from America/ I do not wish for McFoie Gras/ do not Supersize me" from "Non Merci Oncle Sam." From "Sa Sabine": "At the beach near St. Tropez/ Sabine drive her Saab convertible/Sabine is a yuppy snob/ She love her car/ I am dreaming of sand castles."

A live version of "Le Coq Sportif" provides a glimpse of the raucous crowd-engaging spectacle their shows must be. A remix track of "Funky Peripherique" shows another catchy side of the troupe. Catchy and fun if the listener is willing to become more cultured at the behest of these dashing Frenchpersons.

Boston's Weekly Dig
by Ad Frank

While the group is a well-executed homage to late '60s French pop kitsch, some of the songs on Faux Realism are nearly good enough for one to beg them to drop the shtick and just play the pop. The melodies on "Balzac 7502" and "The Tongue of Romance" are downright gorgeous, as is the singing, courtesy of chanteuses Kit Kat le Noir and Celine Dijon. Even Clermont Ferrand's tourrete's-laden vocals on lead track "Sa Sabine" are earnest enough to generate some pathos, even if you don't know what the hell he's singing about. For all that, the arrangements and spirit on Faux Realism may well be fun enough to make the listener want to run out and see their next live performance.

Les Sans Culottes - Faux Realism - review
(CD, Aeronaut, French pop)

Cool French pop with plenty of tricky twists. The tunes on Faux Realism range from straightforward pop to new wave rock...something like a cross between Serge Gainesbourg and The B-52s. Though the band sings in French, they are based in New York City...injecting a much needed shot in the arm to folks in the Big Apple. Les Sans Culottes (the name translates to "those wet undergarments") are happy and upbeat...while never sounding phony or overly sweet. Probably destined for cult status because they sing in a foreign language, these folks provide plenty of upbeat hummable treats on this album. Our favorites are "Sa Sabine," "Ecole de Merde," "Apollinaire," and "Funky Peripherique." Cool stuff...! (Rating: 4+++)

Les Sans Culottes - Faux Realism - review
Long Island Music Scene.comFrench for "Those Without UndergarmentsO?L, these popsters take us along a rarely traveled path of Euro synth-pop, with a hint of mischief. Opening track "Sa SabineO?L comes on like a refreshing hybrid of Human League and Falco, and the female backing vocals are very reminiscent of the New Romantic era of the early 1980Os. "SOS ElephantsO?L is a testament to the versatility of this troupe, as it bounces along like a Monkees tunes with more time changes than you can shake a crazy straw at. "The Tongue Of RomanceO?L strikes a perfect chord for lovers looking for that song to play while dancing on the veranda. It could easily pass itself off as a James Bond theme. "Funky PeripheriqueO?L has that certain dancehall groove that will guarantee this band has a bright future.

The horns are so tight and nasty here, you wonOt be able to stay on the sidelines while everyone else gets busy on the dance floor. Come and get some.

MUSIC CONNECTION - CLUB REVIEWS - March 2002
Show: Spaceland, Los Angeles
This is music you can listen to long after you've enjoyed the group's raucous stage show. This act is sure to gain a rabid following for their tri-color, as well as their off-color style.

Read the review by Sarah Torribio-Bond

NIGHT BEAT: Faux French band ready to party at Venetian
January 25, 2002

"Las Vegas seems like the spiritual home of Les Sans Culottes, just as Las Vegas fakes the best of Europe and creates this (clean) version of it. You have a Venice with canals but no open sewage." -- Clermont Ferrand

Les Sans Culottes en spectacle à Montréal
Ze french touche

Le Devoir, Montreal
jeudi 27 septembre 2001
Lamarche, Bernard

Ils viennent de New York et chantent en francais. Sauf que dans la rue, ne les interpellez pas dans la langue de Moliére, ils n'entendront que dalle. Les Sans culottes sont une bande de joyeux lurons qui gardent bien vivant un petit pan de la culture francaise dans la Grosse Pomme. Ils ravivent la saveur émoustillée de la musique fran?aise d'une autre époque, avec leurs accents pop, disco et, par-dessus tout, yé yé. En pui..

The New Yorker
January 20, 2001

"The Brooklyn ensemble Les Sans Culottes play raunchy faux-French rock and roll that's both a sendup of and a tribute to the dark tunes of late-period Serge Gainsbourg and punchy ye-ye girl pop."

Les Sans Culottes voted. . .
BEST LOCAL UNSIGNED BAND in NYC
Voter's Choice + Editor's Choice 2000 Tip Sheet One of New York's Best, Les Sans Culottes are nominated for best local unsigned band for reconfiguring pop. Parlez-Vouz Francais? Who knew fabulous could mean "Without Underpants" (a translation of the band's name)? Then there are the chorus girlsNsinging, shaking and shimmying like Phil Spector fabrications of Josephine Baker doing Betty Boop...

Read full review

"Like Jose Bove pelting your McDonald's-eating ass with a bushel of apples, the French-by-way-of-Brooklyn party band Les Sans Culottes readied the crowd for a roquefort and roll revolution. As lead singer Clermont Ferrand struggles to put it in English, "this is music that gets in your butt." Kit Kat Le Noir sways and yodels 'Lolita Lolita' to calypso beats, while Gigi Soleil in go-go boots whispers a French version of 'These Boots are Made for Walking.' the chanteuses are to Ferrand what the B-52's Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson are to Fred Schneider - injecting his goofiness with a doo wop here, a yelp there.

Bassist Jean Luc Retard sports a sleeveless Honda shirt and blows air kisses to the crowd, Cal D'Hommage makes agonized love to his guitar,madman Beau Pantalon emits obscene bassoon like noises from his keyboard, and Pascal Blase keeps the beat so the band can "make you" such songs as "Ecole de Merde" (rough translation: School of Hard Knocks; literal translation: School of Shit) and Serge Gainsbourg's "Soixante Neuf Annee Erotique" (France after all, put 69 on the map)."

Carla Spartos -Village Voice
January 2000

Les Sans Culottes at Arlene Grocery
"Les Sans Culottes's cabaret-style, French pop quirkiness was intelligent, sensuous and funnier than shit. And, speaking of shit, we got a good laugh out of their anthem, "Ecole de Merde" ["School of Shit"]. Even funnier, they aren't even French! But, they did a damn good job of fooling us all. While it may sound like Les Sans Culottes were full of shit, they were plenty versed in French language and culture. All of their songs were sung in French with occasional "franglais" outbursts. They drew heavily on the "Ye Ye" era of French rock 'n' roll from the 1960's and were full of nostalgic, American-meets-French rock stylings, tastefully absurd fashion and playful social commentary -- all with a heavy dosage of humor. Building substantial momentum into this year's CMJ, Les Sans Culottes were awarded New York Citysearch's "Best Local Unsigned Band" award. The band featured the wry humor of frontman Clermont Ferrand and newly added backing vocalist, Michelle Pornoreve, who is also lead vocalist for fellow CMJ Festival band, Semi-Gloss. But even though most of us didn't understand a lick of French, Les Sans Culottes made you chuckle. Their cleverness filled the room and their tremendous following was a testament to their talent.

Dhu Siddappa - Unpop.com

Splendid E-zine
by Dave Maddan
8/21/04 American philosopher John Dewey describes "form" in art as a vehicle that takes the experience of an event "to its own integral fulfillment". I like to interpret that as "form is a boat that takes a collection of ideas from one shore to another". If I had to apply that theory to the form of Les Sans Culottes' previous releases, I might describe it as the Love Boat, making stops in Ibiza, Rio De Janeiro and Cannes, and picking up partygoers at each port.

So how do you plan your next album when your music is founded on such a stylized sound? If you are Les Sans Culottes, you just keep on hitting that shit, inflicting your zany universe upon the masses, forcing them to submit if they haven't already. Indeed, Fixation Orale presents the band up to their necks in suspiciously thick accents and raucous devil-may-care performances. Entertainment is, as always, the bottom line.

"Toxico (the Addict)" begins the set with a hard rock-cum-ska rhythm section full of fuzzy basslines and tough backbeats, offset by organ stabs and harmonies from usual suspects Kit Kat Le Noir, Celine Dijon and staggering front man Clermont Ferrand. The Brooklyn-based outfit opted to record Fixation Orale in Los Angeles, a move that put a bit more rock and roll into their mix. "Allo^ Allo^ (Hello I Love You)" picks up the pace with a hyper-blues guitar section, handclaps and shouting guy/girl duet; the lyrics, drawn straight from a French dictionary, translate as "What is your name / I am called Celine, what is your name / I am called Jean Luc, and you are very beautiful / you are quite handsome, c'mon let's go." After another romp with Dijon on a solo mission ("Garcon Culotte?L (the Saucy Boy)"), the band slows down for a sentimental ballad with "Tout Va Bien (I'm Alright)", organ and harpsichord working in tandem with harp runs and swooning girl power. However, it's back to the grungy grind on "Train a` Grande Vitesse (High Speed Train)": you can imagine Ferrand at the mic on this one, shaking like something in-between Beck and Morrison, honing his stage moves. In even more bizarre news, LSC sings a little campfire-style ditty...in Esperanto. It's a tale of a little bird, singing the song of hope (in Esperanto?), and the band, of course, approaches it with a drunken "All You Need is Love / Ob-La-Di,Ob-La-Da" chorus. They even pay homage to the great one, Serge Gainsbourg, with a flashy cover of "Poupe?Le de Cire (Wax Doll)", rife with sitar solos, contrapuntal organ leads, reverbed whistling and sexy girlie vocals.

If you didn't like Les Sans Culottes the first time around, Fixation Orale probably won't convert you, but LSC's insistence and energy should be enough to entice even the staunchest of critics.