Let’s make a baby, maybe, honey

The French Kicks - Close to Modern

Redon's Cyclops

I always imagined the French Kicks as a group of dudes who really love J. Crew but who also do not mind getting some dirt on their khakis, literally and metaphorically (in the metaphorical sense, khakis represent the soul). This song is great but also very goofy in some ways. It's hard not to think of the singer of this song as someone who's wearing sockless loafers (and Oakley sunglasses) at a backyard cook-out and who, after about 12 beers, picks up the keg nozzle and pretends it's a microphone. This person is not singing to you or me. Not at all. He's probably singing to the stony memories of old girlfriends which, like caryatids, bear the weight of--etc.

[Buy One Time Bells]

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