Il Est Vilaine aren't from Brittany, but they sure are tricksters. The Francophiles among you might have caught on to the corny pun in their name (beating a certain presidential candidate to the punch all while turning the name of the pastoral Ile-et-Vilaine region into, literally, 'he's a nasty woman") but the real takeaway is that these born-and-bred Parisians don't take themselves too seriously - especially in an era in which there is much too much of that happening. It was in 2014 (and on Dialect Recordings) that Florent and Simon tossed their debut 12 into the ring, the rightfully named Scandale - a tight little bombshell released that roused the electronic music scene out of its complacent little catnap.So there we had it, two outcasts refusing to eat at the same table as the tech-house scene queens, serving up three whiplash-on-the-dancefloor cuts drenched in sweaty hedonistic disco and wrapped in a battered motorcycle jacket (with a gooey post-punk-pop core for good measure.) A clear mission statement right out of the gates, watermarked with mystical incantations and throbbing with rock 'n' roll's primitive drive. Everything and the kitchen sink, and a bag of chips - an invitation to just let lose that's even better than the sum of its parts. Moving on to this new platter. We set the scene: motorcycles blazing from the airport strip to the strip joint, our heroes traded their Oberkampf stomping grounds for a sleepless weekend of Spanish groupies, discount bikinis, whiskey and bukkake. And a creative spurt that left us with a mutant of a record, the sound of rock and techno crashing through a drum kit mid-coitus, interrupted by La French Chanson
