My Main Shitstain

Paris Suit Yourself
My Main Shitstain

BD175

Released 14/02/2011

What do you want from the ideal debut album? That it excites you, intrigues you, sometimes confuses you? That it takes risks, is hard to place in terms of the records you already know, that it’s short and sharp and bursting with energy and ideas and even hooks? That it makes you laugh, or cry, or has your jaw occasionally scraping along the floor? That it sets out its stall with utter confidence and no reference to what’s going on around it? That it’s delivered with total conviction? That it fits into no pre-defined 'trend' or 'scene' and instead creates its own space by force of will? If even a few of those are what you’re looking for then 'My Main Shitstain' by Paris Suit Yourself could just be your new favourite record.

The three core members of Paris Suit Yourself are all originally from Bordeaux, although singer Luvinsky Atche only met Marie Boye (bass and vox) and Victor Tricard (guitar, keys and vox) when they were all mingling with the uptight snobs of the capital city which gave them their name. But it was when the band relocated to Berlin (with Marie now back in Paris) and recruited Arkansas drum-lunatic, death metal nut and contemporary classical composer Joe Heffernan that the alchemy was made complete. They went into a broken down studio back in France and laid down 'My Main Shitstain' – a forty five minute album over whom the guiding spirits of Keith Levene, Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Fela Kuti and Ari Up hover, laughing, shouting and egging the band on.

From Luvinsky’s incredible voice, which moves from angry or ecstatic screams to fragile crooning in both English and French, from Marie Boye’s rock-solid bass and deranged backing vox, through Victor Tricard’s all-out guitar riffology and effortless way with a Korg, to Joe Heffernan’s pedal-to-the-metal polyrhythmic drumming, this is a record you won’t forget in a hurry. It’s also packed with enough hooks for a Justin Timberlake record (but with none of the cynicism).

So there you have it. Maybe the less we say, the better. Sit back, press play. And be careful with that jaw…

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