Someone left the cage doors open, and these apex predators of the rare-groove food chain are loose and on the prowl. Funk is a natural habitat for most of the Swiss quartet’s instrumentation, the crisp, concussive drums, fat fuzz bass, and grinding Hammond organ. The secret weapon, however, is Olivier Bill’s flute, more aggressive, sexy, and sinister than the instrument frankly has any business being. A couple of jams dial things down to a smoulder, but they’re just moments to catch one’s breath before things get weird, wild, and sweaty again. This debut album’s dancefloor directives are damn near coercive.
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