Gig review: Angine de Poitrine at Brudenell Social Club, Leeds
The much-hyped Canadian rock duo make a joyous virtue of their self-imposed limitations at the start of a sold-out UK tour.
There’s a long line of bands using the mystique of gimmicks to boost their appeal: think ZZ Top with the beards, Kiss in their make-up phases, any black metal band slathered in corpse pain, or Slipknot’s masks.
Angine de Poitrine go a step further. The anonymous band members aren’t seen in public without their trademark polka-dot, triangle-adorned costumes, complete with headgear – with prominent papier mâché snouts – that are halfway between the Clangers and a Cubist impression of a cuddly extraterrestrials in a low budget 1970s eastern bloc sci-fi epic.
They also arrive with an admirably preposterous myth: apparently the guitarist/bassist Khn and drummer Klek (possibly not their real names) are 333-year-old time-travelling aliens, which explains why tonight’s stage banter is delivered in rarely decipherable, electronically mangled gobbledygook.
Gimmicks alone couldn’t possibly explain the Quebecois duo’s speedy trajectory since a 25-minute KXEP live video went viral. The brief UK tour that opens tonight at the absolutely rammed Brudenell sold out in a flash. So did a quickly booked follow-up tour, including an October date in the considerably roomier Leeds 02 Academy. Their two albums – 2024’s debut Vol, 1, and recently released Vol. 2 – are in high demand.
It’s difficult not to feel suspicious when faced with such a rapid onset of hype, as we now know that the teams for such seemingly ‘authentic’ indie rock acts as Geese have bought into the dark arts of social media algorithm manipulation to boost their profile. However, it feels outlandish to think that anyone would pick music this defiantly obscure in its inspirations – sprawling 70s jazz-prog à la Gentle Giant, Frank Zappa’s most contorted virtuoso displays, the over-caffeinated nerviness of math rock, King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard’s microtonal opus Flying Microtonal Banana – as the next big thing to bet the house on.
As soon as the duo’s endearingly wacky pre-show onstage gym workout is over, it begins abundantly clear that Angine de Poitrine shares King Gizzard’s ability to combine the most eccentrically zany weirdness that countless hours of killing boredom in tour vans can generate with some serious musical ambition and ability.
It’s easy to view purely instrumental experimental music as a cerebral undertaking that is best consumed in hushed appreciation. However, this is the kind of show where the audience – impressively diverse in age and appearance – pogo and crowd-surf, even sing along to Angine de Poitrine’s microtonal riffs and counter-intuitively ricocheting grooves.
Built on loop pedals that enable Khn to perform the duties of two guitarist and a bass player and Klek’s metronomic, pummelling yet nuanced drumming that brings to mind the relentlessly hammering needle of a sowing machine whenever the tempo picks up (as it often does), tonight’s proceedings make a joyous virtue of the duo’s self-imposed limitations.
The result is intricate yet muscular high-voltage dance music that seems even more impressive considering that it can’t be easy to breathe, nevermind play physically demanding music, inside those outsized outfits.
As the sweaty proceedings grind to a halt after 75 minutes with an energised gallop through the debut album’s Sherpa (with Khn throwing in flash displays of pure shredding alongside the customary tight dispensation of stacked-up riffs), it’s easy to believe the hype.