Vancouver embraces alien overlords Angine de Poitrine, proving microtonal riffs can indeed brainwash humans.
Some nights the internet hands you something so bizarre you can’t look away. March 2026 was one of those nights. I’m scrolling along, minding my business, when suddenly I’m staring at two paper‑mâché creatures: one with a double‑necked guitar and dollar signs for eyes, the other sporting a floppy proboscis‑monkey nose while hammering the drums. It was so wonderfully off the rails that I froze, trying to decode the guitar tone that sounded out of tune… until I realized it wasn’t out of tune at all. It was microtonal.
Who were these polka‑dotted freaks flipping the musical world upside down with alien costumes, alien language, and alien tuning? I didn’t know — but I knew I had to be at the show. I mean, aliens have a solid track record in rock performance. Just ask KISS, GWAR, or Ziggy Stardust.
Turns out the duo is called Angine de Poitrine — literally “angina pectoris,” as in a heart attack — a two‑piece avant‑garde project from Saguenay, Quebec. They don’t do interviews in French. They don’t do interviews at all. Instead, they communicate in a self‑invented alien language made of clicks, clacks, guttural moans, and whatever cosmic nonsense they feel like. The guitarist goes by Khn, the drummer by Klec, and together they play a polyrhythmic, instrumental fusion of acid techno, disco, and rock. No vocals. No explanations. Just pure, weird, hypnotic sound.
Naturally, that’s exactly the kind of thing that reels me in.
Fast‑forward to August at the Commodore Ballroom, night two of their Vancouver debut. Night one at The Pearl sold out instantly, so this second show was added — and also sold out. Vancouver had never seen Angine before, and they brought along one of their influences, René Lussier, to open the night. Their discography is short but potent: Volume 1 (2024) and Volume 2 (2026).
It had been a long time since I’d seen the Commodore use a curtain, but that’s how this one began. When it finally pulled back like the first page of a storybook, the two stood facing each other and launched straight into “Angor,” the closing track from Volume 2.
Watching the crowd was half the entertainment. Some stared at Angine like they were witnessing actual extraterrestrials. Others behaved like they were part of the alien cult — forming triangles with their hands and bouncing around during “Yor Zarad.” Most of their songs run past the six‑minute mark, so there’s a lot to absorb: looping, layering, odd time signatures, and that microtonal guitar weaving in and out of the mix.
Khn is mesmerizing to watch. He’ll play a bass line, loop it, then jump to guitar and stack riffs on top of each other until the whole room is wrapped in this strange, beautiful sonic web. His playing swings from alien microtonal runs to surprisingly “normal” electric guitar solos. Klec, meanwhile, keeps the polyrhythmic drum patterns tight and relentless. They mostly stay centered on stage, occasionally breaking formation so Khn can face the crowd. Between songs, they speak in their alien tongue — except for one moment where we got a single, triumphant “Vancouver!”
Tracks like “Mata Zyklek” and “Ababa Hotel” kept the room locked in. The volume was loud but comfortable — loud enough for a bit of slam dancing at the front, but not quite ear‑plug territory. Apparently some shows get full mosh pits.
The biggest eruption of the night came from “Sarniezz,” the song that first grabbed everyone online. Khn starts with that infectious bass riff, loops it, then layers guitar lines until the whole thing becomes a spiraling, hypnotic groove. Watching him tap pedals with his polka‑dotted bare foot while Klec drives the beat forward was genuinely magical.
They closed the eight‑song set with “Fabienk” and “Sherpa.” The alien theatrics continued — Klec tapping Khn’s nose with drumsticks, both of them staying fully in character. When the final note hit, they simply bowed in their alien language and walked off. The crowd hesitated, unsure if an encore was coming, but eventually realized that was it.
And honestly? It was perfect.
Angine de Poitrine delivered one of those rare shows where you walk out feeling like you witnessed something groundbreaking — something that could spawn entirely new genres. Their sound is strange, addictive, and unlike anything else happening right now. If you can get a ticket, go. You’ll be squatting, bouncing, and forming triangles with your hands like you’ve joined the cult… and loving every second of it.
Setlist:
- Angor
- Yor Zarad
- Tamebsz
- Mata Zyklek
- Ababa Hotel
- Sarniezz
- Fabienk
- Sherpa
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