Les Breastfeeders Les Matins De Grands Soirs

It seems like a recipe for disaster: the amalgamation of Quebecois passion and delivery with garage rock in the vein of late New Bomb Turks or — pardon the nostalgia — Swedes like the Hives circa "AKA Idiot.” However, in the case of Les Matin De Grands Soirs, this seven-year-old quintet have so much fucking soul, you wonder if James Brown himself might pour out of the speakers, drop to his knees and go, "Damn, that’s some soul!” Twang-y, plunk-y and tinny: they sound like the worst words any band could hear in reference to their sound, yet when dealing with nouveau garage rockers, those are the core elements, of which Les Breastfeeders certainly indulge. Extending out their style to incorporate aspects of early (International) Noise Conspiracy before they got sucked up into their own puzzling politics, Les Matins De Grands Soirs — and, in effect, Les Breastfeeders — maintain good company and great songs. (Blow the Fuse)