Man, French people are weird. Normally one attempts to avoid such broad, egocentric and essentially nationalist generalizations-- especially in published writing-- but not with the French. They're just too damn weird. I'm not even talking about the stuff that most people point to-- the snails and Jerry Lewis and whatnot, forget that stuff. Let's talk about Toog. Toog!

Yes, Toog is weird. I mean, look at him. He's not wearing a shirt! He's got an orange! He's got stuff written on him! He's crazed. Toog! He samples barking dogs and uses them as lead instruments, and he sings about his white trousers, and he gives his songs absurd titles like "Cyclopean-Hate." And he does it all in French. What a nut. He's totally out of control. Really, the world has never seen anything as weird as Toog. Toog!

I mean, take the melody to "The Green Giant" as an example. It sounds so alien, so bizarre. It sounds like, well... wait, actually it sounds like a folk melody. But it's played by some weird computer! That's crazy! Who would have thought to do that? Somebody French, that's for sure. Toog! And that piano part there-- sure, it sounds like it was written in the 1920's by a well-known composer, but sandwiched in between all those bleeps, it sounds brand new. Like nothing you've ever even dreamed of hearing before. A new planet, an undiscovered deep-sea fish. Who else could do that? Toog, that's who. Toog!

The weirdest song by far, though, is "Look at Me!" That crazy Toog takes the vocal cadences of gangster rap, delivers them as if he's falling asleep, and puts it all over a bouncy little synthesized ditty. Such a reversal, such a brilliant trope of pop-culture trends! Derrida, Foucault, Toog! Viva la France! Toog! Tooooog!

Oh, and that last song, "Dental Love." He uses a real live dentist's drill in it. So weird, so innovative. Toog! Ah, but now, alas, the album is over. Let's listen to it again! No! Wait, a better idea: let's learn from Toog's example and use this disc in ways nobody has ever dreamed. In better and more surprising ways. Yes, as a birdfeeder. Or a loincloth. Perhaps like a playing card in the spokes of my bicycle. Listen to its lovely clicking as I ride away. Toog! Toog! Toog!

-Zach Hooker