Vive Les Femmes by Chic & Choc: A Quirky French Time Capsule from ’84
Alright, so here’s the deal—Vive Les Femmes by Chic & Choc is one of those albums that feels like it fell out of a time machine straight into your lap. It’s got this wild mix of Latin vibes, pop energy, and that unmistakable French chanson flair. Released in 1984 under Warning Records, it’s not exactly what you’d call “mainstream,” but man, does it leave an impression.
Let me start with the title track, Vive Les Femmes. This song hits different. Like, imagine sipping espresso at a Parisian café while someone serenades you about celebrating women (hence the name). The rhythm has this bouncy, almost cheeky quality to it, like it’s winking at you while you listen. You can’t help but tap your foot or maybe even hum along if no one’s watching. And yeah, sure, some of the lyrics might feel a little dated now, but there’s something charming about how unapologetically ‘80s it all is. Plus, who doesn’t love a good anthem for lifting up ladies?
Then there’s Kelkukela. Oh boy. If Vive Les Femmes is the classy cousin, Kelkukela is the quirky weirdo sneaking around the family reunion. I mean, just try saying “Kelkukela” without cracking a smile—it’s impossible! The track itself blends bubbly synths with these lush, almost tropical undertones. It’s kind of like someone took a steel drum, threw it into a blender with a Casio keyboard, and pressed puree. But somehow, it works. There are moments where the melody dips into this unexpected melancholy, which totally catches you off guard. By the end, you’re left wondering, “Wait…was that happy or sad?” Either way, it sticks with you.
What makes Vive Les Femmes stand out isn’t just its sound—it’s the vibe. Listening to it feels like flipping through an old photo album filled with Polaroids of people having way too much fun. Sure, it’s rough around the edges, and yeah, some parts sound kinda lo-fi compared to today’s slick productions. But honestly? That’s part of its charm. It’s messy, bold, and unafraid to be itself—a true snapshot of mid-’80s France.
And hey, here’s a random thought: if aliens ever landed on Earth and asked us to explain human creativity, I think I’d hand them this album. Not because it’s perfect, but because it’s real. It’s got heart, humor, and enough weirdness to remind you why music matters in the first place.
So go ahead, give it a spin. Just don’t blame me if you find yourself randomly shouting “Kelkukela!” in public.
