Samuel Bing, Melissa Thorne, Baby Alex, Phat Jeph, G-Bone, Julian Wass and Patrik-Ian. (With guidance from Donna Donna, Malibu Sue, Larry the Duck and The Ghost of Arif Mardin.)
“John Shade moves with composure and ease through arch, almost dour indie pop (”The Believers”) as well as joyous dollops of Of Montreal-inspired electro pop. The sexily deadpan “Cable TV” brings all the moods together, celebrating the joys of cheap motel rooms and Janet Jackson songs with boop-beeps, handclaps, and a wry smile.” - Spin Magazine
“In the spirit of I’m From Barcelona, Loney Dear or Boy Least Likely To, Fol Chen employs all my favorite electro-fey devices: cheesy ’80s keys, propulsive beats, sporadic strummy guitars that bounce between channels and, of course, xylophone. Beginning with understated, low-register vocals, the keeps building, layering on more instruments and even tossing in a key-change for good measure.” - Paste Magazine
"Fol Chen distinguish themselves during John Shade's midsection with some seriously percussive production. "Red Skies Over Garden City (The Ballad of Donna Donna)" tumbles out of the court of King Crimson with cavernous drum patterns, while "Winter, That's All" manages a stomp-the-yard drumline mixed with rave keyboards. But if you're gonna pick a breakout single from John Shade, your best bet is "Cable TV". It's lyrical idea is cliché, but there's a certain sense of slink (if not necessarily sexiness) that recalls, I dunno, Bran Van 3000 or any number of late-1990s one-offs-- its "Killing Me Softly"-style sitar drop is just dorky enough to be kinda loveable." - Pitchfork
“L.A.’s best new band? Probably. Fol Chen’s beguiling, witty synth-pop with guitar, funky keyboards and West Coastian harmonies comes from a semimysterious unit that, according to its bio, sounds like “that mysterious black object that the creepy family is staring at on the cover of Led Zeppelin’s Presence album.” - LA Weekly
“Just as Led Zepelin’s design firm Hipgnosis plopped a miniaturized 2001: A Space Odyssey obelisk amidst vaguely sinister domesticity for Presence’s cover, Fol Chen seek to start dance parties for stiff indie kids.” - Under The Radar
“In what could have been a brave experiment gone horribly wrong, the ragtag stylings, samplings, and influences of Fol Chen create a tight ensemble - not only of performers, but of song genres. The album isn’t an identity crisis so much as pre-made mixtape.” - Venus Magazine
“Right around the corner, independent music is happening in the weirdest and most wonderful way. These Highland Park homies have an ear for combining a unique electronic programming and processing to their inde-rock song structures.” - Dublab
Traffic was thick, thick, thick and Samuel Bing was unwell, strung out on the latest psychotropic fads: sleeplessness and feeling crummy. The Northern State was crawling, the usual twice-a-day funeral procession for Robert Moses. Above the overpasses, the clouds were lined with gristle. Even the horizon seemed to be sinking. So, it came just in time when Donna Donna transmitted her message over the open radio waves – a phantom broadcast from a station whose signal had long since dissolved into static. She spoke backwards for security and you could barely hear her voice between the Crazy Eddie ads, but Samuel Bing had his radio loud. He understood each word. “Initiates in the society of Fol Chen,” Donna Donna whispered, "Let’s get to it. While you sit in traffic, John Shade is busy spreading his black mischief. Here's the Screamer of the Week: 'Birds Fly' by Icicle Works.” Samuel Bing turned off his car and opened his trunk. No one was moving, so no one bothered honking. The trunk was filled with what looked like garbage, but this wasn’t just any piled crap — every object was a module in a greater, yet-to-be-created whole. Samuel Bing fished out a cassette tape and a broken ice-scraper. He inspected the sides of each, found the hidden grooves, snapped them together. He grabbed a faded Polaroid, an old paperback romance, a polyester potholder, and a pair of drugstore sunglasses. He snapped each edge to edge. He chose twelve items, then another six, and arranged all eighteen in interlocking circles that together formed a wider circle. Just to be safe, he welded the grooves with a cigarette lighter, slapped the whole thing on his back. From beneath a crusty blanket where the spare tire should have been, he pulled a wide, machete-like sword, and shoved it in his belt. Then he leapt into the air and let the currents carry him.
Melissa Thorne and Phat Jeph were waiting in room 12A when Samuel Bing landed in the parking lot of the Desert Hot Springs Hotel Spa. They met there in times of elevated risk, when the Highland Park compound was out of the question. Phat Jeph was ripped on peppermint schnapps again, but he was a gentle, melancholy kind of drunk, and hard to deal with sober, so Melissa Thorne made sure his glass stayed full. Samuel Bing didn’t bother knocking. He already had a key. He searched the bathroom, looked under the bed. “Where are the others?” he asked. “G-Bone and Wass are on the way,” said Melissa Thorne. “What about Baby Alex?” asked Samuel Bing. They fell silent, just stared at the rug. Samuel Bing knew what had happened, but he poured himself a schnapps and asked anyway. “Shade got him,” Phat Jeph slurred. Samuel Bing gripped the pommel of his sword. “We don’t have time for this,” said Melissa Thorne, and elbowed Phat Jeph in the ribs. “Okay, here’s the idea,” he said. “We have to take this battle to Shade. We have to build a serious pyramid. That way we can take the measure of the stars, the distances between them. Like the Aztecs and the Incas and King Tutankhamen.” “I’ve drawn up some plans,” said Melissa Thorne. She pushed the blueprints across the filthy bedspread. “You in?” Samuel Bing smiled for the first time all week. He pulled his sword from his belt, tested the blade with his thumb, nodded. “I’m in.”
Hello les amis deux nouveaux morceaux en ligne sur mon espace..
enregistrés comme d'hab à la maison en chaussettes entre deux coups de
sonnettes des voisins.... dites quoi vous en pensez.... Bloody fate
& Overdreamt.
Hello buddies, two new songs uploaded on my space... recorded live at
home, in socks between two rings of the neighbours... tell me what you
think.
Really nice gig in Rennes, France last week end !! I must say I'm more fan of your live sound and energy than of your studio songs ! But you are great anyway ! See you ! Antoine
thanx for the add. I'm back now from england and i finally put your vinyl on my player... really nice and fresh album reminding me that nice show in Hull. Keep on ! and just ring me if you're arround lyon or if you look for some place to play down here i have few contacts .... mathieu.
enjoy
