Miss Kittin Albums (9)
What The Critics Say
"Frank Sinatra" appropriated the sentiment of Bauhaus' "Bella Lugosi's Dead" and I Com contained spatterings of Siouxie's essence, but Miss Kittin's infatuation with goth is more prevalent than ever on Batbox. On this sinister but whimsical collection of 13 tracks -- accentuated by fitting CD art of cartoonish bats and a 22-story haunted house by Emily the Strange artist Rob Reger -- Kittin playfully references witches, ghosts, and bats aplenty: bats in boxes, bats biting necks, and even bat pedals powering her microphone. Her dark sense of humor is still intact, and she maintains that aloof charm and sweet savoir faire that enabled her to easily pair up with a wide scope of electro artists in her past (Felix da Housecat, Chicks on Speed, Detroit Grand Pubahs, and Golden Boy, among others), but now, with her sophomore solo attempt, she seems to be completely comfortable in her role as a soloist and ready to experiment and expand on prior ideas. Staying true to her electroclash roots, there's less of a driving minimalist force than in her days with the Hacker and more of a mainstream polish, likely due to co-producer Pascal Gabriel, who worked on Kylie Minogue's albums. You can hear remnants of Kylie as house influences creep in, providing a chance for Kittin to embark on more inspired and daring vocals, sometimes drifting from her trademark disenchanted monotone to breathy harmonies. Most important to the success of Miss Kittin, though, is that she's at the top of her game as a DJ and sexy as ever, scorching club dancefloors while flirting effortlessly between the blips and scabby percussion of "Pollution of the Mind," rocking out the dirty Joy Division bass and handclaps on "Grace," and bringing it down to a soothing synth ballad of unadulterated melancholy on "Lightmaker." As she emerges from the broken cocoon of Detroit and German techno influences into a unique artist of her own -- one who is slightly experimental but never lacking a head-bobbing hook -- it's hard to argue when she quips, "Frenchies do it better." ~ Jason Lymangrover, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
If the electroclash movement did anything besides get a bunch of gawky people laid, it nourished the liberal vertical marketing of electronics through the sediment of music. That fief's unintentional yet nevertheless influential royal Miss Kittin takes its latent notions to heart and foot for I Com, her solo debut. By 2003 a mostly full-time Berliner, Kittin collaborated for the record with that berg's Tobi Neumann and Thies Mynther, producer dudes who have files on both Chicks on Speed and Peaches. This feels right, as Kittin has cut a solo rug that's informed by the Chicks' newsprint clothing art beat futurism and dyed in Peaches' sexy muddy juice, but is drier and droller than either, and cooler than a night on the town with the universe's most hippest kid. She's always been smart, this one called Kittin. But with I Com, she has winnowed her dueling personas -- brilliant techno-inflected DJ and haughtily self-aware vocalist -- into a fantastically complete, wildly inventive package that offers the lunatic best of both badass sides. "Professional Distortion" splatters guitar distortion over clicking rhythms and rap detachment from the woman herself; "Requiem for a Hit" drops salty lyrics ("Um, excuse me, would you mind to...pump?") on a peppery beat, before getting all naughty over lite rock plinks. But I Com isn't all about the dancefloor. "Happy Violentine" is a coldly functional valentine, a blippy Teutonic take on Björk's odd bird emotion poetry. "No love is part of the job," intones Miss Kittin. "Switch me in a standby mode/Until someone presses play." "Allergic" and "Clone Me," too, sound like electronicized versions of shrill post-punk detachment, while Kittin's old pal Hacker appears for "Soundtrack of Now," I Com's Detroit techno interpretation. The album's production is strong and the beats are varied and inventive throughout. But Kittin's album truly excels in its darkest, weirdest moments. The seven-minute-plus "Dub About Me" is unsettling in its extrapolated, minimalist rhythms -- its dark shadows steadily coalesce into a demonic lover built from blown circuit boards. Best is "I Come.com," where Kittin becomes the robotic voice of Wi-Fi feminism, daring you to take a trip through her wires. Careful -- the essence of Siouxsie Sioux is haunting your Blackberry. In the end, none of I Com is really techno -- it's technique. The best bits and pieces of the post-everything genres have been rearranged in a newfangled data stream to represent Miss Kittin's very elusive, entirely accessible muse. The alluring result is cool, reloaded. ~ Johnny Loftus, All Music Guide
'Radio Caroline, Vol.1'
Release Date 3/25/2003
Tracks 20
Label Emperor Norton
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Some listeners have always suspected that Caroline Herve's Euro-princess persona, Miss Kittin, was a bit of an act. But as her detached vocal delivery has become more and more ubiquitous, it is exceedingly difficult to tell where the character ends and the real person begins. With her first stateside mix CD, Herve finally tears down the facade, proving that she is much more than the champagne-toasting chanteuse that her sensual accent and fashionista lyrics have always suggested. Granted, Miss Kittin continues the practice of speaking over the tracks, offering challenges such as, "How can you be a DJ if you don't shake your ass in the middle of the ground?," but following an opening statement about her life and family, Herve has already informed listeners of which voice she is using to speak. Almost as a side effect, Herve also proves that she is a wicked DJ, easily blending hiccupping beats by IDM operators Autechre and Pan sonic into subdued house rhythms compliments of Blaze. Click-stepping German minimalism, hyperspace Detroit techno-electro, and even languid trip-hop beats all deftly come together with precise manipulation that few DJs would ever have the nerve to pull off. As the title says, Radio Caroline is a far more esoteric and complicated musical place than the sleek electro-trash ghetto where Miss Kittin is usually placed. The only concession made to the nouveau sound comes with the inclusion of Alexander Robotnick's "Dance Boy Dance," but even that selection rides the line between wave and techno. This mix will surely surprise the public, whose only perception of Herve is her electro-fad alter ego. But to the increasing amount of fans who are tiring of that particular strain of dance music, the surprise is a pleasant one. ~ Joshua Glazer, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Miss Kittin may have attained international infamy for her deadpan singing on such electroclash anthems as "Frank Sinatra" (produced by the Hacker) and "Silver Screen-Shower Sceen" (Felix da Housecat), but don't be mistaken -- she's a techno DJ through and through, and an impressive one at that. She showcases her stock in trade well on her debut mix CD, On the Road. Released in early 2002, shortly after she'd become the toast of the electroclash scene, the mix is highlighted by remixes of her aforementioned two signature songs, but this is no electro mix, nor does it even border on electro-techno. In fact, On the Road is a rather straightforward mix of hard techno. There are practically no vocals and there is little kitsch here outside of the slightly wry intro where Miss Kittin whispers in her trademark deadpan delivery, "What do you think Miss Kittin is doing on the road? flying? raving? eating? spinning? rocking? breathing? smiling? crying? waiting? dreaming? sleeping?," followed by the opening salvo of DJ Rush's "Motherfucking Bass (Tanith Remix)" and its sassy vocal tag: "Do you like bass?/Motherf*ckin' bass in your motherf*ckin' face!?!" After this expectedly playful beginning, Miss Kittin gets down to business and unexpectedly drops one bombastic hard techno track after another by the likes of Gary Martin, Umek, Heckmann, and James Ruskin. The mix takes an interesting turn at the halfway point, when Miss Kittin teases in the Laurent Garnier remix of "Silver Screen-Shower Scene" followed shortly afterward by a crafty tweaking of "Frank Sinatra." From here, the mix-closing run is nothing short of amazing: the "suck my" part of "Frank Sinatra" mixed as an a cappella over the squawking sax intro of Garnier's "The Man With the Red Face," into the 909 hailstorm of Plastikman's "Elektrostatik," into the out-there sounds of Plaid's "Ohh Be Do," into the even-farther-out-there electro of Pink Ellin's "Futurist," into Miss Kittin's dreamy outro ("Do you wanna come? flying? raving? eating? spinning? rocking? breathing? smiling? crying? waiting? dreaming? sleeping? with me?"). Taken as a whole, On the Road certainly isn't the debut mix most would have expected from Miss Kittin. The French-born Berliner seems wholly uninterested in the electroclash scene she'd been pigeonholed in, no doubt to the dismay of some. She's instead fashioned her debut mix as a wholehearted appeal to the more respectable and long-standing techno establishment and proves that she, as a DJ rather than an electroclash diva, has both the technical skills as well as the creativity to complement her unquestionably novel personality. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide
'First Album'
Release Date 1/1/2001
Tracks 13
Label International Deejay Gigolos
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
This French-Swiss duo pumps out retro-'80s-style disco beats and silly lyrics, creating a fun, goofy, ironic vibe that is sure to be a hit in Europe and perhaps in America. This, their debut album, includes their 1997 R-rated single "Frank Sinatra," undoubtedly the standout cut on the album. Thick-accented Miss Kitten sings lyrics like "To be famous is so nice.../Kiss my ass/In limousines we have sex/With my famous friends." Most of the songs have lyrics in a similar style: bad English, not properly translated, almost nonsensical, probably all on purpose. The beats here, courtesy of the Hacker, are very fun, perfect for nearly any party, but even better for a Euro-themed one. Miss Kittin speaks rather than sings, and does so in a deadpan pattern that is very Euro-disco. They seem to be trying to reach over and above that generally stale genre, and they mostly succeed. ~ Adam Bregman, All Music Guide
