Odio París, Odio París
El Genio Equivocado, Spain
by Andrew Casillas
Here’s a quick summary for the simpletons in the audience: Odio París’ debut full-length sounds pretty similar to The Pains of Being Pure at Heart. So however you feel about that band’s first record, this album will leave you with pretty much the same taste in your mouth. Thanks for reading Club Fonograma! Alright, for the rest of you, here’s the low-down. This Odio París debut LP is fantastic. Like the sort of fantastic that makes you want to go to sleep ASAP so you can get up and go play this record for all of your friends the next day.
While it is the latest in a wave of indie rock records bringing back the sounds of the George H.W. Bush years, this one brings something to the table that this wave of mainly-hucksters routinely overlook: warmth. That’s not to say that this is a loving record—if you and your partner decide to play one of these cuts at your wedding, I am assuming you don’t really have many family members. What these guys have and understand is that, beyond the sheen and feedback needed for that My Bloody Valentine/Sarah Records-indebted white noise, the great shoegaze records evoked a feeling. That oblique feeling that tortures your gut until you submit to its subtle dominance. Loveless, For Keeps, and even Ride’s Nowhere were not built on the extravagance of their façade, their greatness lies within the layers underneath their framework. Those were records that would not let you take them at face value. Some bands work years to put these parts together. Odio París, on the other hand, have crafted an evocative, haze-filled classic on their first attempt.
Odio París is one of those records that’s greater than the sum of its parts. Indeed, if there’s one real flaw on the album, it’s the lack of one defining, anthem-like number. However, that doesn’t mean that you will have trouble finding a wealth of great tunes throughout the record. From “Cuando Nadie Pone un Disco” and it’s Sonic Youth-but-with-keyboards! vibe to the ethereal qualities of closer “Nana Blanca,” the entire album sounds crafted to appeal to anyone’s tastes. Lyrically, the album’s tales of love and despair are a bit naïve in nature, which I realize can be a turn-off to many, and that’s fair. But when these guys dress it up in shoegaze-ravers like “Ahora Sabes” and the delicately poppy “San Antonio,” the drama can be too delicious to ignore.
Some people out there may instantly turn off when they hear white noise; some may still listen to Loveless once-per-week (for real, I know you’re out there). Whatever your previous experience is with this sort of rock music, Odio París is definitely a band that’s worth giving a precious listen to. Who knows? You may fall in love with them, or they may fall in love with you. Or you might hate the record. However your ultimate feelings may turn out, you’ll know that there’s definitely something about this album—even if it's stuck in your gut.
Odio París, Odio París