Ouf métal

Tonnerre de Brest! Thanks again to Amulet's Heathen Stephen for turning me on to yet another wickedly groovy French metal band from 1985 as it was love at first listen for this 'head, the mind-bogging-ly bizarre cover art withstanding! Now, I was hesitating between this and another "Bucket(head)view" (admittedly, once you get into the swing of things it's hard to stop) but the Francophile in me won out in the end - also, why not considering Strattson's similarly jocular and singular weirdness?!

Gwar "joyeux lurons" i.e. revelers will likely dig the Parisians' sole full-length, Ouf Métal, as axe-man/shouter J.C. Stratt equally adheres to maniacal histrionics while the revved-up, barreling instrumentation reeks of Oderus Urungus' cronies' free-wheeling but committed overtures. For instance, not only are they both (coincidentally, albeit one authentically, the other tongue-in-cheek) expressed in "la langue de Molière", but the former's indelibly sardonic and wry "Je M'Appele Jacques Cousteau" from Hell-O possesses the same bopping, excitable bent - and captivating, jiggling intro - as "Le Bourreau", possibly my favorite Ouf Métal offering. To wit, its spastic yet direct and super simple chorus has been stuck fast in my psyche for a while now - it takes me every ounce of restraint to not break a sweat i.e. out into an animatedly jerking marionette on the bus but I'm delighted to share how I'll be lying in bed trying to fall asleep when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, "Le Bourreau" - complete with its hip shaking musical twang! will pop in my head and I'll just start smirking and laughing out loud uncontrollably. Just ask my roommate, he knows - all too well might I add!

Immediately noticeable is how the sassy, shaggy n' snaggy hook-laden bass lines (and drums) are on an even keel with the guitar and vocals, which evoke the front man/ lead guitarist's possible Senegalese or Cameroonian origins as these possess an undeniable African French flair which duly enhances Ouf Métal's overall congenial and jocose disposition. Check out the mad shuffle to opener "Face à la Lune" or J.C.'s pumping, hifalutin' vocal overtures on the squealing burnt rubber evoking closer "Speed Machine" (which, all told, should have been included on the soundtrack to Death Race 2000!).

Also, one look at the band line-up, whose members all share the same "Stratt" surname, confirms Strattson undeniable comedic bent - another reason it reminds me so much of Gwar or Green Jelly, though this last surely fails to match its colleagues' highly adequate musical aptitudes. Which brings me to J.C. and Fred Stratt's twin guitar offensive; the lead playing, while nothing overly spectacular, shines none the less while managing to compliment the otherwise frenetic instrumentation as opposed to simply one-upping it. Strattson really is a team effort without any one member overshadowing the others, Placid and tamer instances include the brooding yet catchy-as-Hell "Au Coeur Du Temps" as well as the eloquent, natural harmonics infused "Children Of The Damned" style guitar progression opening "Ténèbres", although its multiple neoclassical solos duly showcase J.C.'s commendable chops which reside in harmony with a rock solid battery comprised of bassist Lionel Stratt and drummer Fabrice "Brisfa" Stratt - an endearing heavy metal "family" if there ever was one.

A final footnote: it's astounding what a strong and obviously clear influence Strattson has had on contemporary, hard-driving like-minded rockers Amulet when one hears a track such as "Le Blues", as it's an absolute, all-around dead-ringer for the Londoners' "Mark Of Evil" off their 2014 full-length debut, "The First" (which makes me wonder if the sophomore release will be titled "The Second but I digress). In any case, all I can say at press time (and now as I wrap this up), given I've sitting here this whole time with a burning desire to urinate, is OUF!