Five reasons to get French Kicks

1 They have a singing drummer. At the front of the ensemble on stage, vocalist-sticks man Nick Stumpf exudes a spastic old-school charm that evokes Dick Dodd, crooner-beat keeper for L.A.’s “Dirty Water”-lovin’ ‘60s garage-rockers the Standells.

2 They play more than one note. The 4-year-old D.C.-to-Brooklyn quartet’s debut album, “One Time Bells” (StarTime International), provides an entertaining twist on a lot of old formulas. Various tracks blend angular punk, jam-style garage and pulsing post-punk with dashes of soul, California-pop harmonies and even some Prince-like tendencies. All in 38 minutes.

3 They are 21st century mods. C’mon, just look at ‘em.

4 They sound like the Velvet Underground, but not really. French Kicks’ tunes have a low drone and a cynical-sweet wit, but the Velvety thing is more of a feeling. Even on forceful numbers, Stumpf’s keening vocal deadpan conjures up a cocoon-like dislocation, and the songs fetchingly fuse gnarly noise and pretty, pretty melodies.

5 They mean it, maaaan. Live shows for Stumpf, his brother-bassist Lawrence Stumpf, guitarist Matt Stinchcomb and guitarist-keyboardist Josh Wise are less about exuding ‘tude and more about delivering gritty, hook-filled fun. Scratch up some action with them Tuesday at the Troubadour.

French Kicks, with No. 2 (featuring Neil Gust of Heatmeiser), Sunshine. Troubadour, 9081 Santa Monica Blvd, W. Hollywood, $8 advance;$10 at the door, 8 p.m. (310) 276-6168.