Last weekend, Idolator videographer Alex Goldberg caught French synth-punk band Neimo for the second time. The first time, he was so irritated by shaggy frontdude Bruno Dallesandro’s onstage mimicry of rock’s great frontmen that he intended to use his digital skills to poke fun at him for all the Internet to see. But the second time, he felt a stirring inside of himself that he couldn’t quite explain. Well, he tries to explain it to us (with supporting video evidence) after the jump.
Maybe I was just tired. Or maybe I was just cranky because I was carrying a heavy bag. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that I was anticipating waiting in the Knitting Factory (quite possibly one of the worst venues in New York) for two hours to see Why?.
Whatever it was, I was in a bad mood, just in time for the second opener, Parisian band Neimo. Watching, I found myself conflicted. While they more or less reminded me of the Strokes (with some New Order synth) and while guitarist Camille Troillard’s guitar work reminded me of the Edge during U2′s better days)–and while, being a dance punk guy, this catchy, fun music would usually appeal to me–frontman Bruno Dallesandro kept my bad mood going, shamelessly drawing on every frontman you cared to name, from Iggy Pop lounging on the floor to David Lee Roth in your face to the statue-like stare of Julian Casablancas to Pelle Almqvist’s antics. A complete phony, not even content to stick to stealing moves from one band a la Sam Endicott biting Brandon Flowers.
Last weekend I had a chance to to see Neimo again, and I went with the sole intent to make a video calling Bruno out for his derivative shtick. But this time I had a much different feeling watching him chicken dance and kiss girls in the crowd. Could I actually be into it? Was I really enjoying myself? What if it wasn’t my classic NYC music snob attitude that had me crossing my arms and sending a dirty stare at the stage, but jealousy? When I am in my room lipsyncing to iTunes in my underwear before i go out, I pull the same exact routine. Bruno was the physical manifestation of my bedroom make-believe.
So I must apologize for hating on Bruno Dellasandro because (as I’m learning in therapy) I was really hating on myself. Maybe he does wear one too many scarves, and his matted “I didn’t shower” hair looks a little too effortless. But If i was a frontman for a French post-punk synth band I would probably be pulling the same exact moves. Bruno, I’ll admit you are a cool dude. Maybe I have a bit of a man crush on you. You know, like Jerry Seinfeld and Keith Hernandez.