The Scotsman

Snapped Ankles

Mono, Glasgow

- FIONA SHEPHERD

THE name is a reference to the film version of Stephen King’s Misery, but that is only the first attention-grabbing gambit from art rock collective Snapped Ankles. This mysterious four-piece hail from Hackney and bring the cosmic Krautrock party wherever they go, but the identity of their members is shrouded in mystery – or specifical­ly in hairy pagan masks adorned with antlers and what looked like a bicycle light.

In 2017, they crawled out of the forest with their Come Play the Trees concept debut; now they have made it as far as the local estate agent’s office to borrow some sharp suits and a “for sale” placard in order to flog their latest album wheeze, Stunning Luxury.

And music fans of all ages are buying – at this show, the kids moshed and crowdsurfe­d to the garage rocking energy, while the heard-it-all veterans at the back got off on their fresh take on some old sounds – their lo-fi machine music recalling the analogue punk of Cabaret Voltaire, the baleful intoning of The Fall and the fidgety new wave pop of Devo and The B-52s.

Their entire approach was rhythm-based, led by some brilliant, tight, taut, rat-a-tat drumming over which the rest of the group could get a little deranged - with some forays into the crowd and even outside for a brief guitar solo - or disturbing­ly groovy in the case of the trippy cowbell punkfunk of Pestisound (Moving Out).

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