#26 Lapin Machin

The first time I saw the Lapin Machin, it was on a drunk night, in the amazed eyes of a girl

She told me that she had seen a crazy and frenzied band: naïve punk, clown pop, humorously happening, absolute DIY, rage of a 15 year-old in their backpack. They’re even Parisien. Totally unique.

In fact, their name was kicking around for a while in the Pop In (rue Amelot), where the band was having a blast at the Sunday night [very] open mic nights. In response to those times’ disabled folk sessions Lapin Machin brought on an ultra DIY drum kit (read: “Wow guys, we found a couple boxes in the street, let’s start a band!”) which drew in the crowd and overwhelmed them with its savage yet fresh appeal. So, when I first encountered them in person there was no doubt in my mind: the Takeaway Shows were envisioned for Lapin Machin. Just because they’re like the boom mic that accidently falls into the camera’s frame-an anomaly that seems like a force of sabotage but also a bearer of honesty and emotion, still exposing those scratches and bruises you got when you were a kid.

When I asked them to give me a bio to add to the text they basically shrugged their shoulders as if it didn’t matter. Something I could theoretically say would be: “Formed out of rehearsing AC/DC covers and doses of megadrive, the group has successively transformed from indie-punk, into lofi-pop, into death-folk, into anti-rock and indie-junky before becoming what they are today: boxes, wood, and screaming.” Love would be the closest description. All this is the closest I could get to the truth.

When hearing the band, a lot a people would say “Moldy Peaches!!!”. After all it’s difficult to hide the references. The rabbit ears (lapin meaning rabbit in French) also make you inevitably think of Adam Green during his funny days.

Ok the Parisian Moldy Peaches, but isn’t it much better than the Versailles kids under the influence of Bloc Party?

The videos were filmed last September at dusk in the basement of Potemkine (a Parisian DVD store). The session started with screaming and box pounding, taking off pretty powerfully until we were kind of booted out by the boss of the store who didn’t understand why this dirty band of regressive punks were kicking around the neighborhood. We then wandered around for hours playing loudly in the most “bobo” or gentrified neighborhood of Paris. We then found a car and compelled the owner to let us use it for a couple minutes, at which point we would return it. Needless to say we got it, but the owner was flipping out when we brought it back. Violette, the girl from the band, later got on top of a truck to do a little serenade to the stars.

I really love these three musicians. They’re something that’s becoming more rare as time goes on: an energy that truly communicates, that makes you want to jump and scream. They just released their first album under the micro-mini-nano-label Antiskool Records. You can’t really find it anywhere a part from Ground Zero or by mail order. Loaded with beautiful and ripping tracks, these are the songs with which you fight off cloudy days.