Kap Bambino
Blacklist

Smell of alcohol and other atrocities.

The floor sticks under the bare and dirty feet.

Cigarette butts everywhere and people collapsed on top of each other.

There are spirals of smoke in the air and there’s a dim, dark light that swallows everything. Every person, every individual, becomes a small candy thrown into nothingness. The music is loud and destroys everything. It's Kap Bambino. Caroline, practically anorexic or thereabouts, with her hair tending towards orange, who croons and screams, gasping among the abandoned butts. Those spirals create clouds of many shapes and colors. Every light becomes a small glimmer of nothingness. And every beat. Every electronic beat becomes a heartbeat.

The Kap Bambino play just like that. Like a rave carried on with conviction. After a while, many get lost, as in war, stunned by drunkenness and smoke, but still allow themselves to be carried by the sound. They are an endless party that tears apart at a sunset.

Less violent than Atari Teenage Riot and less genius/artistic than the excellent Crystal Castles, but listening to them during a drowsiness is a sentence. They force you to dance. They destroy the abysses with an extraordinary track like the beautiful and unleashed "Dead Lazers" (not coincidentally chosen as a single) and with "Blond Roses”, a track that sounds like a symphony of Game Boy on acid. Other times, they themselves seem to become drowsy at the party, with unconvincing fillers like an up-and-down "Blue Screen", which despite rather powerful synth rounds sounds like a pretty harmless cheesiness, or a "Human Pills" that wants to be a cross between You Love Her Coz She's Dead and Eraser Errata, ending up revolving around the same "melodic" line. Luckily, "Batcaves", just the right amount of wicked, livens things up a bit, and a "Acid Eyes", very beautiful and destructive just the right amount, which recalls the most danceable and inspired moments of Alice Glass's poetics, saves some dead moments. Not to mention a shard that is pure bliss in the balance between punk and driven electronics, namely "Red Sign", which sounds like the pop version of any infernal Alec Empire scenario. 

What is certain is that if "Blacklist" were to end up, by sheer chance, in the player during a "quiet party," rest assured: there's the risk it could even get deadly. The poetry of pogo is all here, in an album a bit nasty, grumpy and imperfect, but incredibly irresistible. 
And know that certain passages ("Dead Lazers" first and foremost), could transform the little cousin's communion banquet into a devastating acid party with unexpected consequences. The important thing is to take the risk.