The only language more foreign to me than French, is the language of the dance.

Sure, much like I can order a baguette on a bustling rue in Paris, I can (almost) hold my own on the dance floor by bobbing my head back and forth (somewhat) in rhythm and occasionally uncrossing my arms from time to time. But, really, it’s not a natural fit. It doesn’t look right. I don’t get it. I don’t want to get it. I’m happy with the way things are.

Besides, if I’m on the dancefloor, who is going to hold up the walls by leaning against them?

Yet there I was, on the dancefloor at Rotture, doing my best not to dance to the bumping French disco-pop of Yelle. Fleshed out by a keyboardist and excellent drummer, Yelle was just what you expected her to be; downright adorable, a restless ball of energy, very French. Her between-song banter was extremely polite, but during the songs themselves (primarily from Pop-Up, although there was some other material I didn’t recognize) she jittered about, happily beaming with pride as she tore through “Dans Ta Vraie Vie” and feeding off the energy of the eager crowd—many of which I spotted earlier at Hot Chip. I have a feeling that the next time she comes through town, the venue (and crowd) will be a whole lot larger.

Also, if you need proof that most mashups are the work of the devil, please take a listen to this Yelle meets Weezer mashup. Seriously. Somehow the genius behind this war crime of an MP3 ruined not only my favorite Yelle track (“Ce Jeu”), but my favorite Weezer song (“Jamie”) as well. Thanks for nothing.

MP3:
Yelle + Weezer - Jeumie

The above live photo was taken from her MySpace page and, judging from the Knitting Factory banner in the background, was not from last night.