With the release of Vol. II, the enigmatic Saguenay-based Pythagorean-Cubist Dada mantra-rock duo, Angine de Poitrine, has cemented its status as a global phenomenon, propelled in particular by their performance at the Rencontres Trans Musicales in Rennes, which was broadcast by KEXP. While this music captivates with its familiar strangeness and technical precision, the extraterrestrials Klek and Khn de Poitrine, both 333 years old, first caught the public’s attention thanks to their visual style—as zany as it is mystical: black-and-white polka-dot costumes, exaggerated noses, and papier-mâché pyramids. It feels like witnessing a cryptic, absurdist ritual.
Behind this theatrical façade, however, lie formidable musical mechanics. Khn, the grand pontiff of the loop pedal, wields a unique double-neck microtonal guitar incorporating a bass. With stacked loops activated with surgical precision, he builds structures of dizzying density.
Opposite him, Klek, a broad-shouldered drummer with a drooping nose, imposes an unrelenting rhythmic rigor, navigating between irregular time signatures (5/4, 10/4, etc.) and sharp breaks. Together, they give the impression of an unstable edifice that, nevertheless, never collapses: each layer first accentuates the dissonance before giving rise to a coherent groove.
While micro-intervals in melodic scales exist across many cultures, they have rarely been pushed this far in a rock context. This is where the duo’s genius lies: transforming “wrong” notes into a surprisingly accessible experience. Through repetition, a sense of cohesion eventually emerges, creating an electrifying discomfort that borders on the sublime.
The album unfolds like a series of moving tableaux. “Fabienk” opens with a jagged dissonance that transforms into a desert cavalcade, punctuated by otherworldly vocalizations. “Mata Zyklek” builds a minimalist tension before exploding and then settling into an almost surf-like groove, infused with punk energy. “Sarniezz” kicks off with confidence and pulls us into a race of nervous stop-and-go. “UTZP” begins like a Balkan polka in a caravan before shifting into a battlefield. “Yor Zarad” evokes a breathless chase that concludes in a heroic march, while “Angor” hammers out a hypnotic motif with ritualistic overtones, propelling the listener toward scorched landscapes.
Despite its conceptual depth, Vol. II remains deeply engaging. Where other experimental projects retreat into their own complexity, Angine de Poitrine opts for playfulness, humour, and an unexpected accessibility. With Vol. II, the duo delivers an album that is both a sonic laboratory and a strange celebration—a work that unsettles, amuses, and fascinates, confirming that Angine de Poitrine is far more than a viral phenomenon: a precious anomaly that puts Quebec on the international map.
