K-X-P

Finnish trio K-X-P aren’t the best at self promotion. Their band bio lists four people and mentions a rotating drummer (they currently have two drummers playing live). Their photos usually feature obscured faces. At their show at Loppen, they perform on a darkened stage while wearing black hoods, which suggests that one cannot live so far north without bringing some kind of black metal influence into his work. None of it really suggests upbeat, danceable electronica.

But despite their best efforts, K-X-P are curiously accessible. There is no harshness coming from the sawn-off guitar or the table full of knobs that singer Timo Kaukolampi twists, nor his reverb-laden, swampy vocals.

It’s not a big crowd, but everyone is dancing. All the little tables have been abandoned, left piled with coats dangerously close to the candles. Watching hands flail in the air and people jump around during “Space Precious Time,” the mood comes close to touching on rave culture, even as Kaukolampi attempts his best growl.

While having two drummers can seem like a gimmick, in the case of K-X-P it adds further dimension to the otherwise programmed music. It’s a little difficult to distinguish what’s coming from a person directly and what’s coming from a table of wires, but the literal feeling of being propelled forward by their movements compensates for this cerebral uncertainty.

And the confusion about preprogrammed sounds versus physically present instruments is perfectly in keeping with the tone of the evening. It’s hard to reconcile the notes that stretch out into acid-inspired whirs with the group on stage. It’s hard to reconcile that the bodies are dancing around in the low-ceiling Loppen and not in a festival tent in a field. But it’s only these superficial things that feel mismatched. Shut your eyes and enjoy the spaciness, and everything feels right.