Hatepinks US Tour - January 2009 - Shitty press, pour ce que ça vaut...

SAN DIEGO CITY BEAT - Published: 01/20/2009
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French punk rockers Les Hate Pinks must have felt like the stars were aligned when they found out they’d be kicking off their first-ever U.S. tour with TKO label-mates and Orange County legends The Stitches at Bar Pink last Thursday night.

Singer Olivier Escobar, a 37-year-old public librarian from Marseilles, France, was anything but mild-mannered and wasted no time insulting the crowd. “We are really happy to play in some pit hole tonight!” he said to sarcastic applause. “We’ve always wanted to play Mexico!”

Les Hate Pinks ripped through their trademark ’77-style pop punk full of sneering taunts and bratty lyrics with songs like “Kissing Cops with My Ass” and “I Piss in Your Swimming Pools.”

After the show, Escobar, who closed out the set in bondage head gear, sipped on a vodka and apple and juice and affably kept the insults going: “It’s a great shitty bar, a great shitty town.” When the subject of French literature was broached (music critics really are insufferable snobs), Escobar’s sneer turned into a scowl. “I don’t care about books! I just deal with computers!”

No one has ever accused The Stitches of being pretty, but they were spectacular Thursday night. The chaos that erupted when they kicked off their set made Les Hate Pinks’ performance, which was spirited and energetic, seem downright workmanlike.

Bass player Johnny Witmer announced that the show was dedicated to longtime fan and San Diego resident J.J. Orsborn, who died on Jan. 5. The Stitches were one of his favorite bands.

“It’s hard to be here and not feel his presence,” Witmer said after the show. “J.J. was San Diego.”

The Stitches will be back Saturday, Jan. 31, to play a benefit show for Orsborn’s family at the Ken Club.
—Jim Ruland

Les Hatepinks with the Stitches

The Hatepinks' ferocious punk and dangerous live show is just too good to last. Tickets available at the door.

What's the most punk rock thing a band can do these days? Well, according to The Hatepinks, it's not puking onstage, getting naked or putting bags over their heads and passing out while playing (all of which they've done). Rather, it's simply not having a MySpace page. Take that, corporate machine!

Hailing from a somewhat unglamorous side of Marseille, France, The Hatepinks have been rude, crude and just plain socially unacceptable for six years, all while tearing up underground clubs and house parties around Europe with a blend of English-influenced punk and unexpected stage antics (think, The Damned meets a more sharply dressed GG Allin). According to frontman Olivier Gasoil, in an interview with a punk zine, the band doesn't just hate the color pink, but "sandals" (watch out, San Diegans), "Belgian tourists" and "all the records you like" as well.

And in congruency with the destructive and wild nature of the band, they're just too capricious to last. Their first U.S. tour will also be their swan song as they plan to break up once they return home. It's safe to say that their show here is historic, but how often has musical history felt this volatile?

last modified January 6, 2009

Le Hatepinks, the Hacks, Autolite Strike at Funhouse, 9:30 p.m., $7

I recently had the pleasure of seeing the Dead Milkmen reunite. They were smart, political, subversive (altering their lyrics to "Tiny Town" to include the verse "I knew a girl named Sarah Palin, she blew all the roadies for Van Halen") and just as awesome as I wanted them to be at 16. I bring this up because Frenchies Le Hatepinks give their songs titles like "I Am A Divorce," "Should I Kill Myself or Go Jogging?," "Ikea Kitchen (it's like a gas chamber)" and remind me of the Dead Milkmen in their simplicity, wit, fuck-you-itude and fevered commitment to promoting the punk rock epitaph that life is, in fact, shit. They differ in that Le Hatepinks have wrapped themselves so heavily in a black Snugglie of guttery clichés it's near impossible to figure out if they are seriously serious or a brilliant, French, punk rock Spinal Tap. Regardless, it's a treat to ponder the question, as they are superbly fast, irreverent and raw.


Snobbish? No. Très snotty? Mais oui, mes amis! The opposite of brie-eating sommeliers, Les Hatepinks defy American stereotypes of the French as pretentious foodies and poets. This bratty quartet plays '80s-inspired garage punk that's taut, tuneful, and pierced by both skinny-tie New Wave hooks and snide cynicism: Imagine the Briefs' snarky, smart-aleck pogo pop given a Francophiliac twist. And they don't spare themselves from criticism, either, as songs like "I'm a Gimmick (New Wave Punque Is Fuquing Shit)" prove — that is, if you can understand their accent.
Details: In any case, freedom fries will not be served when Les Hatepinks cook up Frenchie punk for American bellies on Sunday, Jan. 18, at 8 p.m., $6 USD
— By John Graham
Published on January 12, 2009 at 4:23pm

The Hatepinks @ The Funhouse

Great pictures here.
French punk band The Hatepinks is winding its way across the world on its farewell tour, and was kind enough to stop in Seattle along the way. The Wednesday night Funhouse audience was treated to an all-out punk rock spectacular, complete with plastic bag masks, duct tape, sunglasses at night, and lots and lots of incomprehensible French. What a fucking night.