K-X-P
The Lexington, London
19/01/2011

Anyone watching K-X-P walk onstage tonight could be forgiven for feeling slightly unsettled. Of the three figures, all shrouded in dry ice, the first could be a 1940s soldier at a techno rave, the stilted fragility of the second shares something in common with a zombie and the third is enveloped in a large black cloak (think Scream minus the mask).

The stark logo behind the stage mirrors the monochrome symbol that adorns the cover of the Finnish trio’s self-titled debut album, and is pretty much the only visual association that most people present have had with the band, until now. The record’s schizophrenic krautrock is enough to turn heads though, and when we see frontman Timo Kaukolampi and his band, it all makes sense. In boots and a cut-off t-shirt, his eyes are ablaze with unhinged abandon as he wraps himself in his mic lead, hair and limbs flailing.

The rhythmic and repetitive motorik sounds on the album are injected with a new energy tonight; the set coming in waves of diligent plodding and elongated psychotic blasts of white noise. These rambling songs somehow manage to be Satanic, romantic and barbaric at the same time as emerging from the black hole of K-X-P’s collective mind with undeniable dancefloor appeal buried somewhere underneath. ‘Pockets’ is the most conventional of their repertoire and it shows, yet it is the remainder of the set – the crumbling, freakishly intense kraut-disco – that stands out; with the crowd torn between dancing and running for cover.

K-X-P are a more demonic Kraftwerk, a more personable Suicide, smeared with the charismatic disco appeal of the likes of Optimo’s Twitch and Wilkes. Where others might plagiarise and rehash, this is a band that could well break the mould, even if they are a slightly scary proposition for a Wednesday night.

Ben Homewood