Damn. The weekend has finally arrived after three of the most stressful weeks of my life. Primal Scream had me convinced movin’ on up would be a joyous experience with gospel backdrop and syrupy guitar solos—not so much. Instead, I find myself handed the keys to a car already halfway off the cliff, shit stream churning menacingly below. On occasions such, I find myself strangely comforted by obscure foreign music, preferably of that dancey variety that tends to marry well with heavy drinking and the odd who-gives-a-fuck flail. Card carrying anglophile I be, but there’s just this deep, onomatopoeic bliss that comes when totally dropping it to a song whose lyrics amount to incomprehensible gibberish (see: Nena, David Gray, etc.).  Anyhoo, tonight’s prescription is a bit of eighties, new wave dance funk care of Parisian inamoratos, Les Rita Mitsouka. “C’est comme ça” (roughly, “That’s How [BITCH!!!*]) captures everything good about new wave circa 1986—that twitchy, pseudo accomplished  yet ambrosial kitsch that in a perfect world would blast from the jukebox of everyone’s favorite dive bar come one AM each Friday night. Also, thank you Google Translate for letting me know the phrase I keep hearing as “The fuckers move!” more or less transcends all language barriers….

*Emphasis mine.