Chromeo is like a test of how much you like fun.

If you have the nerve to say you don’t like Chromeo, I immediately draw two conclusions about you: You  have no sense of humor and your idea of fun and my idea of fun stand on opposite sides of an unbridgeable rift. Let’s just go our separate ways and call it good.

If, on the other hand, you happen to like fun, Chromeo has something for you to hear.

On their newest record, White Women, the Canadian duo slide elegantly from silky smooth hook to silky smooth hook on a cavalcade of analog grooves and big four-on-the-floor beats best characterized as “the funk.”

This is the album they’ve been building toward for sometime. It’s smart, with clever lyricism that doesn’t make sacrifices to fit in a genre that isn’t always known for it’s intellectualism. There’s substance here, and it isn’t just in the break-neck beats or syncopated bass lines. All the hallmarks of Chromeo music remain — perfect, vintage 80′s patches, talkbox, well-timed call and response between the instruments and vocals — but there’s a refinement that we haven’t seen on their previous albums.

The first track, “Jealous (I ain’t with it),” is noticeably commercial (in fact, it’s already been featured in commercials), but goddamn if that hook doesn’t fit the beat better than a black spandex body suit fits Jennifer Lawrence. And they don’t stop there. As the title track of their accompanying tour, “Come Alive” features vocals from Toro y Moi’s Chaz Bundick and chorus so smooth you could spread it on toast.

And there’s so much more than just the singles — the record has some serious follow through. “Old 45′s” has a wistful nostalgia about it, and “Frequent Flyer” moves from the 80′s to the early 90′s with a mega-huge New York house chorus.

There’s something for everyone on this album.

That is, if you’re fun.

No joke: I went to Paris last year just to see Breakbot. Granted, I was already in Europe and I had friends that were going to be there, but I don’t know if I would have made the trek if it wasn’t for Thibaut Berland’s appearance with Ifrane and a live band at Solidays Festival.

And it was amazing.

Today, a friend shared this video of Breakbot playing at La Bellevilloise from 2012. It has a distinct Soul Train kind of feel, with dancers making moves on stage with Berland, star filters for the lights, and 70′s fashion that’ll make you say “Whoa.”

It’s a 40 minute set, and it’s 40 minutes well spent.

Get your Saturday started right.

Belgian producer The Magician released the 43rd incarnation of his Magic Tape series. As usual, it’s a disco heavy journey through modern house music.

From his Soundcloud:

Hello Everyone,

Here is Magic Tape 43 ! Plenty of surprises in it…

Kisses,
The Magician

 

Cherub wants you to fuck to this record, and they’re not shy about it.

Take the lyricism of Neon Trees, the sonic palette of Chromeo, mix in a healthy dose of Prince, and then drop the tempo like panties on prom night, and  you’ve got Cherub’s second full-length release, Year of the Caprese.

“This is that disco shit / that makes you feel alive,” says singer Jordan Kelley on ”Disco Shit”, the second track on the record, and it’s true. When they disco, it is that disco shit you’ve been looking for your whole life; it’s the stuff your mother talks about with a dreamy, nostalgic look in her eye as she reminisces about the ’70s, when you start wondering just how many people could have been your dad if things had been different.

But there’s no escaping it: this album is built for sexing. These are the formative moments of the next generation of disco, the catalyst for those nights grinding to the uptempo jams that follow. This is an investment in the future of disco, an incubator to secure the legacy for the next generation that will grow out of these hip-swaying songs. You will be that nostalgic parent, and Cherub wants to get you there.

They certainly walk the line between cheesy and authentic, and at times, they fall on the wrong side of it. The most glaring example is “<3″ — starting right with the title. ”I want to take / A sledgehammer to your car / And break / Everything apart,” says the chorus, culminating in an acoustic sing-a-long that has all the hallmarks of a Chris Carrabba unplugged album. Still not satisfied, they decided to leave the studio discussion where they applaud their heartfelt performance there at the end of the track, to remind us all that that really was the take (I mean, he made it more major). It reeks of major label single-centric pressure. Mistakes were made.

Is this a brilliant album? No.

Is this a game changer? No.

Does it have some clever moments, catchy hooks, and is it fun to listen to? Yes it is.

The tennis ball sample on “This Song is for You” is great. The tempo drop on “Work the Middle” is a great way to end the track. The calypso ballad, “Strip to This,” will elicit a smile from even the most cynical critics, despite it’s tired theme and painfully obvious anti-climax (get it? Cause it’s a strip club. You never get to fuck. GET IT?!). Apparently they intend to include their biggest single, “Doses and Mimosas” on every release, but fuck it, three more beers and you, me, and Mr. Carrabba can sing along with the greatest acoustic breakdown Cherub has ever performed.

It’s a fun album. If that’s what you want, what you expect, then they gotchu.