Angine De Poitrine @Prospect Building Bristol – 13/10/26

Math rock nodders, mosh pit rockers where crowd surfers cross the barriers and dot the I’s

This was my first time; I had purposely not seen any footage. This ensured the music was cemented and enjoyed in my brain, leaving the live show to be a whole different wild experience (hopefully). I’d not even seen the viral performance on KEXP which turned a lot of people on to Angine De Poitrine, nor the recent Jools Holland performance. I’m going in fresh in a world where you can see everything before you see it — for once I haven’t. If that’s not enough, I gained a last-minute ticket to a sold-out gig! Enough to bolster anyone’s excitement. It feels like I’ve won the dottery.

I’m here for the music and here for the paper mache, obviously.

The merch tent is heaving. I soon have a t-shirt to match my dotty shirt, as do many others. Is it strange to buy merch before you’ve seen a band? Who cares. With me (literally fully invested), me and friends filter into a lovely spot front left as Angine De Poitrine take to the stage at 9 on the dot. I have good pre-gig nerves, the ones you get when you are not quite sure what is going to happen. There’s an instant outpouring of smiling glee when the “Brothers De Poitrine” take to their packed polka peddle plinths. The band hold still in solidarity, hands aloft in a Pyramid Salute which is mirrored by the crowd with Triangle Palms everywhere you look. Their “speaking voices” resemble if you were to dangle Mr Blobby upside down in a swimming pool and give him a megaphone. The weirder the better; I’m all in.

What better place to start than Angor opening with low pumping bass which is looped to form a groove below rocky bluesy guitar. All played, of course, on the supreme polka-infused double-neck guitar, making a striking image. When you think you’ve seen it all, two aliens turn up in Polka Paper Mache and rock your faces off.

Yor Zarad is pure nose-flapping toe tapping jam, starting with a circular riff then synchronising with the drums to go from jerky to stop-start precision — a sound to behold and a beat to move to.

I weave through the corridor of uncertainty to gain a vantage point pit-side and prepare to sweat. Happily, I’m greeted by a lovely mix of revellers and transfixed barrier-clutching fans. All very happy to partake in the surreal crowd-participation math-rock squats. The set is also a great mix of their albums, with Volume 2 slightly outnumbering Volume 1, which is to be expected. If a band that plays minimum 6-minute songs can have bangers, then Angine have 3 stored neatly in their giant dotty hats.

Here we go…

Sarniezz makes me feel like I’m being chased at speed in a rock fever dream, the bass lulling you into a false sense of security before the pedal hits the floor and the band fly through crazy time signatures with poise, precision and long flappy noses. This is a space where there is room for math-rock nodders, mosh-pit rockers where crowd surfers cross the barriers and dot the I’s. Once one goes, all do. Surfing the Fabienk wave of robust robot funk, with no words to sing to; people around me bob around making audible squeaky guitar noises. It’s hard not to! This song has a stomping quality — with the funk-bass breakdown a joyous response to a high-tempo stomp of a song — straight on my running playlist. Sherpa is rocket-fuelled with energy, musical prowess and endurance, yet another 6-minute song crammed with twisting invigorating energy surges with sustained onslaughts of frenetic and menacing drums.

A guy in an Aphex Twin t-shirt turns to me and firmly states, “They do not do encores.” Fair enough, they don’t need to. So, 3,500 dazzled and delighted fans wander off. I think to myself: is there anyone else at this gig that thinks they could come anywhere close to recreating what Angine do? Full respect if they do.

At a great gig you should leave twice as excited as you arrived.

I DO.