John Solomon

When The Plasticines took the stage for their set as the opening act at The Viper Room on Friday night, you could almost hear the tongues of every gentleman, or at least those brought up on dirty movies and rock and roll, hit the floor. The three girls standing above them—and the fourth seated at the drum kit—were the epitome of three irresistible things: they were pretty, talented, and very, very young. Born and Raised in Paris, The Plasticines played their only Los Angeles show that night, and although at times the stage seemed far too small (and the venue a little too empty) for their well-rehearsed, showy set, they certainly brought a little bit of, you know, je ne sais quoi, to the Strip.  I watched from the sidelines, both baffled and entranced by the many contradictions at play in front of me. While the songs they played were seamless, mature pop numbers with just the right amount of verse-chorus-verse, the coltish exuberance of the girls’ performance made it seem like they were doing this for the first time (in a good way).  This push-and-pull between been-around-the-block maturity and youthful abandon made it almost impossible to stop watching them. The Plasticines’ lead singer, with her hair in a bright blonde Barbarella bouffant, went from slapping a tambourine listlessly to tipping back a Budweiser and shouting at the audience in a thick French accent, her sequins almost seeming to drip off of her thin frame. It made me think of the riot grrl declaration “Revolution Grrl Style Now!” and about how this was all grrl style without any of the revolution. Perfectly polished, totally sexy, but not at all arch. Although I was desperately looking for something, anything, subversive about their cover of Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots are Made for Walkin’,” I couldn’t find it, but I guess that’s not always what rock and roll is about. Sometimes, I guess, it’s important to have a little pop, to be polished, and to admit that a French accent and a school girl giggle really are incredibly freakin’ hot.

—Maud Deitch