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The surprising part is not that this Quebec outfit mixing country music, folk, surf, and a dash of Elvis exists, but that they have been doing this for three decades plus and yours truly is just finding out.
Really, this review only needs five words: Francophone spaghetti western rock songs.
Get your headphones on and listen to this master of mood make his way across the undulating sands, the wet guitar reverb, warbling organs, crystal-clear claves, and snaking melodies sounding like surf music for a desert holiday.
No denying this band exists in a dual space of Gen X ridicule and genuine nostalgia. The new album is filled with the same sunny indie-rock wink-and-grin disposition that rightfully earned them the title, broadcasting into/from the airwaves of 1994.
One final challenge awaits: swim through the Reservoir of Bliss, filled with honey, liquid moonlight, and endorphins, then dance in slow motion across the infra-disco, as BRONCHO's underwater guitar syrup and whispered falsetto choruses are playing.
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