There are bills on which the (dark) stars align: Kloahk, Supershotgun and Midnight Street of Rage in Cirque Électrique's Anti-Club is a good example. In this small venue with its often dubious technical conditions (on this particular evening, the sound was surprisingly good), there were three strong universes but, above all, three varied opportunities to shake your booty, roll your hips and sulk in the dark. Everything we love.
MIDNIGHT STREET OF RAGE
In fact, we're surprised to see the synthwave metal duo Midnight Street of Rage launching the party: as well as being the longest-running project, they're also the winners of the contest to see who has the most Facebook followers (for what it's worth...). And even if the crowd doesn't fill up in the first moments of the set, the atmosphere quickly becomes heated. It has to be said that the ingredients to set the mood are there: their dynamic synthwave and geeky references caress the audience (especially those with greying hair: 80's nostalgia is starting to be a grown-up affair). Above all, Midnight Street of Rage dust off the clichés with wicked riffs that give the tracks their thickness and bite. It's both furious and exhilarating, with the two guys on stage communicating their enthusiasm with energy... and they know that covers of old stuff are a big hit. Making Gala's Freed From Desire and Dead or Alive's You Spin Me Round their own, with the addition of big guitars, can't go wrong at the end of a set, and the whole circus was indeed electric.
SUPERSHOTGUN
One of the great things about the evening's running-order is that the atmosphere gradually fades into darkness as the sun falls behind the horizon. Supershotgun's synthwave is far less festive, and while we can appreciate the more nostalgic and luminous touches, the thick layers set a menacing scene for the scowls of villainous conspirators (the Anti-Club seems particularly well-suited to conspiracy). Gradually, the intensity rises and the more atmospheric parts give way to more aggressive wickedness. If there's dancing on Supershotgun, it's with a grim look on your face and a show of muscle; there's no happy swaying of the pelvis and no rhythmic clapping of the hands. And then there's this guy, there, in his exo-skeleton, behind his gear: the visuals are fleshed out over time, the timid lighting gives pride of place to red and black, and there's a whiff of futuristic underworld with a hint of nightmare about it... But behind that authoritative beard, you can also feel the sparkle in his eyes, the mischief that springs up with a smile, and a discreet stage presence that grows with each new date: without a microphone, the artist communicates with his gestures. A bit like Carpenter Brut, Supershotgun plays the tough guy with its imposing facial hair, its equipment and its wall of sound, but you can also tell it's an entertainer and a bit of a joke: it's dark, the atmosphere works like a charm, but there's this playful pleasure, this awareness that we're having fun and that we shouldn't take it all too seriously either. It's badass, fun and immersive.
KLOAHK
No more laughter. Night has been falling for some time now when Kloahk takes to the stage and plunges us into his ghostly, melancholy world. A figure both touching and disturbing, the pallid figure played by Paul Prevel, an analogue spectre whose features emerge from the shadows, comes to sing us his industrial rock laments, drawing from the shadows of Nine Inch Nails, Gary Numan... or even Placebo (in the audience, we hear a fine analysis: ‘he sounds a bit like Brian Molko, but in a good way and without the rotten voice’). Time goes by and with each release, each live appearance, Kloahk convinces us a little more: here we have one of the finest projects on the French industrial scene, something sincere, accessible and catchy. We love the sensitivity that emanates from it, but also the sinister touches, the most recent tracks showing a heaviness and darkness that we hadn't really seen from Kloahk before, and which hints at an imminent third EP.
As for the setlist, the opening track, No One Will Miss You When You're Gone, with its French lyrics, envelops us and draws us into the darkness. Later on, Kloahk rearranges his collaborations with Divine Shade and Shaârghot to free himself from guests and deliver ‘solo’ versions. The late hour, intimate setting and overwhelming crowds provided the perfect conditions to lose yourself in your spleen, staring at a beer-soaked floor (we hope it was beer, the smell does raise a few anxious questions), getting your guts scratched by those cathartic guitar riffs. Accompanied by Olivier Hurtu on drums, already his colleague in Shaârghot, Paul Prevel is a little too rare for our taste with Kloahk. His talent and sensitivity give him a unique voice and, apart from a slight imbalance on stage (the drums are set back in the dark, leaving one side of the stage a little empty), everything works. This spectral figure who floats through the night to haunt us with his mournful, darkly dreamlike laments is decidedly unique. The world doesn't know it yet, but Kloahk is one of the finest industrial music projects we have in France, and it's about time people knew it.
