Rendez Vous Manqué by Longue Distance: A Funky French Time Capsule from '84
Alright, let’s get into this. Rendez Vous Manqué by Longue Distance is one of those albums that sneaks up on you like an old friend you forgot about but instantly vibe with when they show up again. Released in 1984 under the French label Studio 1, it’s a wild mashup of rock, funk, and soul vibes—sprinkled with boogie beats and gogo grooves. The whole thing feels like cruising down a neon-lit Parisian street at night, windows down, wind messing up your hair.
First off, props to Cyril (who mixed AND recorded the album) for giving it that raw yet polished edge. And can we talk about Mouton's photography? It’s got that moody, retro-cool aesthetic that makes you wanna frame the cover art and hang it on your wall.
Now, onto the tracks. I’ve gotta shout out “Rendez-Vous Manqué,” the title track. This song hits different—it’s smooth, kinda sultry, but also packs this punchy bassline that just won’t quit. You know how some songs feel like they were made for a specific moment? Like, maybe you’re sitting alone in your room thinking about life choices or dancing awkwardly at a house party? That’s this track. The way the vocals glide over the instrumentation is pure magic. It’s not trying too hard; it just is. And honestly, isn’t that what good music should do?
Then there’s “Chanson Préfabriquée.” If “Rendez-Vous Manqué” is all sleek confidence, this one’s more playful and quirky. There’s something almost cheeky about its rhythm—it bounces around like it doesn’t take itself too seriously, which is refreshing. It reminds me of those random nights where everything goes sideways, but somehow it ends up being the best story later. Plus, the guitar riffs? Chef’s kiss. They’re sharp enough to cut through the mix without stealing the spotlight.
What sticks with me most about these two tracks is their ability to transport you. One minute you’re chilling in 2023, scrolling through Spotify playlists, and the next you’re vibing in some smoky French club in the mid-’80s. It’s weirdly nostalgic even if you weren’t alive back then.
But here’s the kicker—the unexpected twist no one asked for: listening to Rendez Vous Manqué feels like eavesdropping on a conversation between genres. Rock flirts with funk, soul winks at boogie, and somehow it all works. It’s messy, imperfect, and completely human. Kinda like life itself.
So yeah, give this album a spin. Not because it’ll change your world or anything dramatic like that, but because sometimes you need a little funky French flair to remind you that music doesn’t always have to make sense—it just has to move you. Oh, and if anyone asks why you’re suddenly obsessed with obscure ‘80s albums, blame Cyril. He started it.
