The Singles Jukebox

Via Laureline and the south of France comes a tune with a slightly misleading title…

[Video][Website]
[5.08]

Peter Ryan: This saunters much more gracefully than its namesake. Bonus point for hooting.
[6]

Alfred Soto: A charming, succinct genre exercise (I wish she sang “vodka” instead of the title) by the yeh-ooh-ooh-ooh sample dangling from the accordion.
[5]

Cédric Le Merrer: Mathieu Boogaerts, who wrote this with Luce, is the worst/best French variété artist. Wort because he’s the most precious artist in a genre plagued by widespread sickening preciousness. He’s the best because at least he’s not shy about making coy, quirky mumblecore. Luce is basically the same: she has that unnerving tendency of French variét’ singers to be more actress than songstress. But at least she can act. Every line of “Polka” is infused with personality and subtle nuances of playful and sad, far from the plain, even-handed diction of Boogaerts.
[8]

Gaya Sundaram: A quirky, matter-of-fact and oh-so-French song about dancing and love. How could I say non? “Polka” is endearingly cute without being saccharine.
[7]

Austin Brown: I love the escalation of the stakes here that you only find out about if you follow the lyrics — far from the bland ode to a twee art form I thought it might be before, this is prime deconstruction material. Still, it’s a little disheartening that the ace guitar solo steals the show rather than acting as part of it.
[6]

William John: The underlying melancholy that slips further into view as the song goes on provides some intrigue, but on the whole I can’t shake the notion that this is what Meghan Trainor would sound like were she born in the Languedoc.
[3]

Katherine St Asaph: I miss Regina Spektor. Regina would know her way around a polka.
[5]

Patrick St. Michel: Intensely charming and pleasant.
[5]

Scott Ramage: I was determined to say something about every track this week. But it feels like listening to this should be beyond anyone’s remit. Retro, uninspired and generic. I would like to say that it simply isn’t for me, but I wouldn’t want to actively imagine anyone who this is for. Can we do Keren Ann next year?
[1]

Megan Harrington: I have this vision of my sister as the sort of woman who would languidly listen to a record on a Sunday morning while drinking black coffee out of a tea cup. I think of her as a bit sad and serious and I’m always sure this record is an Edith Piaf record — I mean, everything sounds sadder and more serious in French. As Luce’s closet of colorful clothing and playful dance moves illustrate, it’s not. “Polka” is restrained, it’s not screaming runs or pounding synths, but it’s also unselfconscious, something of a frolic. My sister might like it; she’s got a great sense of humor.  
[7]

Brad Shoup: Wry and playful: she even imitates the sound of café-pop better than the band. For a song about learning the steps, Luce’s cohorts are content to do the bare motions.
[5]

Kenny Komala: Luce, what do you want, girl? You want to dance the polka, but not with some guys, because they only want your unmentionables. But then, you want to dance it totally nude. Huh? This hot-and-cold attitude is tiring.
[5]

Jonathan Bogart: It’s a difficult time to be mean about Gallic tweeness. So I won’t.
[3]