Gans are a noisy drum and bass duo out of Birmingham (augmentede on stage by a sax and flute player) and trying to pin them down stylistically is a losing game. You can hear bits of Madchester, flashes of nu metal, a touch of Britpop attitude, but it comes out as something much messier, a collision of lad culture, terrace chants, punk abrasion and rave energy. It should feel like a jumble, but it hangs together because they play it like they mean it.
The set is pure impact, loud, scrappy, constantly in motion, something you can throw your head into or move to without really deciding which one you’re doing. There is just enough structure underneath the chaos to keep it from drifting, and just enough chaos to keep it from feeling safe. More importantly, they look like they are enjoying themselves.
In half an hour, they have the Bataclan on their side, slightly dazed, a bit roughed up, and clearly into it. By the time they walk off, people are already drifting toward the merch table, trying to figure out what they just saw and whether they can take a piece of it home. This is what setting the bar looks like.
