Rixe – Tir Groupé EP

Last week, I was reading through the first 2025 Sorry State newsletter and quickly noticed that among many great releases, their best-selling record of 2024 was Rixe’s latest EP, Tir Groupé.

This confirms my long-held theory that Rixe isn’t your average Oi! band—they’re more like a business project. The trio has been around for a decade, and while they haven’t released a proper full-length (if you don’t count the Collection LP), their seven-inch EPs have been repressed countless times and sold in the thousands. I’m not entirely sure how the Oi! revival happened, but suddenly everyone was rediscovering Nabat, Camera Silens, and the legendary Chaos En France compilations. There are a few that have managed to capitalize on that hype, and in my opinion bands like Rixe and Lion’s Law are ridiculously overrated.

I usually avoid writing negative reviews or talking about bands I don’t really care about since there are so many worthy ones that deserve attention and support (if not for some original or groundbreaking music, then at least for their socio-political message). However, I decided to write about the new Rixe EP because, surprisingly, I actually liked it. While all previous releases didn’t bring anything new to the table, Tir Groupé is incredibly catchy, tapping into the ongoing ’80s nostalgia in a really good way.

In French, “tir groupé” literally means “grouped shot,” coming from shooting terminology for shots that land very close together on a target. Figuratively, it can also describe a coordinated action by a group working together efficiently. The four tracks here, Rixe’s latest coordinated effort, hit the heart of the earliest French punk bands—like Métal Urbain, known for pioneering drum-machine use—then continued by many others in the country, and here Rixe blend in super-infectious synthpop beats (especially on the B-side tracks “Citadelle Rock” and “La Clé II”). There’s also a retro-styled video for the leading track “Tir Groupé,” looking straight out of the ’80s tube TV screens. Rixe’s lyrics have never been anything revolutionary, but they seem to be singing about their hometown Paris among usual everyday life things and we’ve seen tons of poor lyrics from Oi! bands, so there’s nothing to worry about.

Overall, this EP feels similar to Rixe main songwriter Maxime Smadja’s old band Condor, but with a stronger pop twist. I’m not sure how genuine this effort is—or if the band’s main purpose is just make you “shut up and take my money”—but this new drum-machine laden EP is the only Rixe record I’ve genuinely enjoyed.