Rather than brooding in quarantine, FouKi smokes green, writes, composes, hangs out, records. The lyrics are by Léo Fougères (his real name), but the quills of Tom St-Laurent, Clément Langlois-Légaré and Adel Kazi-Aoual also see activity. We note the insertion of an absurdly sordid story (a BBQ jumps into a basement and roasts a cook) and an excerpt from an ADISQ gala, when Louis-José Houde discusses FouKi and his requests to the caterer… for snacks! You can guess that the word, “grignotines”, has become a running gag for the mildly stoned, to the point of becoming the title of an EP. For lack of making himself understood beyond an audience that’s learned his dialect well, FouKi knows how to create a consonant and attractive mumble. One can see that Dominic Hacek rhymes with cross-checks, that brown bills and blue notes are evoked by a narrator in search of love, and more good stuff follows. The salivating, sativa-soaked MC/singer concludes on the topic cinnamon buns. The music? A mix of trap, reggaeton, and other herbs. Clément Langlois-Légaré’s guitars go well with the beats of QuietMike, Pops & Poolboy… not bad, not bad. These pandemic anecdotes won’t go down in history, but will probably make FouKi and his buddies’ fans smile.
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