With Geese, it’s relatively easy to see the mass appeal: for all their Beefheart-ian sharp angles, the New York quartet ultimately resemble others (Radiohead, etc.) who have managed to bridge the gap between experimental instincts and popular acclaim. Angine de Poitrine, however, is a harder phenomenon to satisfactorily dissect.
A construct of fiendishly complex musical ambition and high-brow conceptual experimentation, the instrumental Quebec duo’s blend of self-administered microtonal constraints, minimalist personnel (just a drummer and guitarist who multitasks via live looping) and profoundly marginal reference points (the knotty twitchiness of math-rock, unorthodox sprawl of the jazzier edges of vintage prog) suggests they are fated for the world’s more discerning and intimate rock holes, catering exclusively for serious music obsessives who reject anything that whiffs of hype or the mainstream. Instead, tickets for the band’s upcoming UK tour were snapped up instantly (in Leeds, an additional date later in the year in a venue with five times the capacity of the club the duo play in May also quickly sold out) and the band’s records are being reprinted to meet escalating demand.
That this spike in profile follows a KEXP live performance that went viral could lead the more cynically inclined to conclude that the duo’s unexpectedly high profile (in context of their uncompromisingly odd music) must be down to their striking visual gimmick: the duo protect their alter ego-d anonymity by performing in outlandish polka-dotted uniforms complete with outsized rubber snouts and bizarrely shaped headgear. This theory dissolves on exposure to Vol. II, however.
Angine de Poitrine’s use of microtones and hypnotically spiralling structures packs more than a faint memory of the microtonal experimentation of King Gizzard and the Wizard Lizard, whilst their fondness for unpredictably shape-shifting yet tightly steered multipart compositions suggests an unorthodox mission to combine the rigidly controlled, angular muscle of math-rock with the logic-defying virtuoso indulgences of the jazziest, loosest practitioners of vintage prog. You may also detect remnants of the physically pummelling yet intricately nimble workouts of early Battles (especially whenever vocoder-ed, helium-hued sing-song vocal hooks pop up).
However, the sense of inexhaustible energy and sense of joyous glee that fire up Vol. II belong to Angine de Poitrine alone. There is no shortage of complexity and experimentation on offer here, but these six hook-laden workouts are also unfailingly infectious, even funky in a twitchy and hyperactive way. For evidence, see how second half of “Fabienk” twists into a robotic disco stomp, with looped riffs criss-crossing each other over a steady, sweaty groove, or how “Mata Zyklek” gallops out of the gates with froth on its chops like a rabid post-punk-funk outfit on a superhuman dosage of caffeine. Elsewhere, “Angor” slows the pace (relatively speaking) to weave a dense yet still uncluttered web of circling riffs, with captivating results that aren’t a million miles removed from the genre-defying post-rock constructs of, say, Tortoise, or the intricately insistent constructs of Horse Lords.
Throughout the album, the duo’s sound stretches and bends like pliable dough, somewhat unmoored from any solid foundations, subject to abrupt and unexpected – yet still cohesive – contortions with little advance warning. The duo’s ability to match the experimentation with a sparkling energy and infectious drive suggests that Vol. II would impress even if its creators dressed in nothing more eye-catching than road-worn jeans and T-shirts.
