Since its debut in 2011, the Pitchfork Music Festival has been a pillar of the fall season in Paris—whether you’re a music aficionado or a more casual enthusiast. The Pitchfork Avant-Garde sector, for fans of up-and-coming artists, concentrated a three-day string of soirées in the 11th arrondissement, where concert-goers could sample different groups and flit between venues that were all walking distance from one another. Here are three standout performances from Pitchfork Avant-Garde.
Bolis Pupul - Badaboum, Thursday, November 7
Google Maps indicated the Badaboum was closed, but it most certainly wasn’t. A giant disco ball nestled in the ceiling, like a solar system diorama, was more indicative of the evening to come than the folksy sounds of Christian Lee Hutson and Divorce—both Pitchfork Festival participants—playing over the speakers as the crowd waited for the concert to start.
Under geometrically-designed red neon lights, which flashed yellow and orange then dimmed when the concert started, Bolis Pupul got behind his Sequential Prophet 6. Pupul’s 2024 album Letter to Yu originated from trips to Hong Kong in search of his maternal heritage (born in Ghent, Belgium, his mother was Chinese, his father Belgian). He channeled familial introspection into a boisterous musical language of uptempo keyboards and synths, influenced by Kraftwerk, ’80s house, and la French Touch.
“Bonsoir tout le monde, comment ça va?” he queried cheerfully. “Vous êtes un peu chaud?” If people weren't hot yet, the heat would hit soon. Clad in a two-toned shirt (half-yellow, half-patterned and ornamented with beads glittering in the overhead lights), charcoal trousers, and white tasseled loafers, Bolis Pupul did not stop moving throughout his show, remaining totally connected to the crowd and summoning deep beats evocative of Tangerine Dream. When he played the plucky hit “Completely Half,” he marched across the stage, sidestepping and doing the running man, eventually popping out in front of his gear and making eye contact with front-row concert-goers. His slithering, relentless orbit melded video game vibration, wonky sci-fi, and ’80s movie soundtracks, the oontz oontz entangling with sirens and a clanging metallic tone.
Later in the set, he invited his sister to come join him: Dressed in head-to-toe red apparel, she played the flute and then sang as she prowled the stage, doing a joyous jig. “Now I’m going to play something slow,” Bolis Pupul wisecracked when she exited, launching into an amped-up rager. His outro was ethereal but twisted, as tweaked-out notes soured into a high-pitched squeal that became frantic and palpitating, like a robot unraveling.
Fcukers - Badaboum, Friday, November 8
“What’s up Paris. We’re Fcukers,” singer Shanny Wise coyly announced, arriving onstage after a pulsating intro of ambulance alarms and flashing lights. She wore Matrix-style sunglasses, which she lowered over her eyes throughout the set, and a white-and-black leather jacket zipped to the neck, firmly embodying the aloof cool girl. The NYC trio—which also included bassist-keyboardist-producer Jackson Walker Lewis and live drummer George Bass—detonated their set with a cover of “Devils Haircut” by Beck, Wise’s husky purr refreshing the deadpan original.
The group, who has cited The Chemical Brothers and ’90s house as influences, is summoning indie sleaze for the next generation with its party-til-dawn energy. The hype machine has been behind the group since it first formed in 2022: Céline booked Fcukers to play during Paris Fashion Week after their second show ever.
At the Badaboum, Fcukers’ dance party hit “Homie Don't Shake” shimmied into the jangling “UMPA.” Wise’s voice was sugary but never overly sweet, even when leaning into lush slowness on the R&B-inflected “Heart Dub.” At one point during the set, she broke out a whistle like a gym teacher.
Sweat levels rose with the bleating bop “Mothers,” and when “Bon Bon” hit, the mosh pit flourished. When the set ended with “Tommy,” the crowd danced with abandon—but Wise never lost her careful composure.
Chloe Slater - Mécanique Ondulatoire, Saturday, November 9
In Mécanique Ondulatoire’s dungeon-style basement, sauna-level heat emanated from the crush of people gathered to watch Chloe Slater. The Manchester-based musician debuted in 2023 with her aching single “Sinking Feeling!,” posting on TikTok regularly to grow her audience. Here, sporting a black vest over a white short sleeved button down and wide-leg cuffed skater jeans, she accessorized with a once-wrapped string of pearls and dangly heart earrings.
Slater grinned while kicking off the set with her reproach of the privileged, “Nothing Shines On This Island”—“He’s got his contacts in the monarchy,” she sang. Onstage, she radiated a girlish charm and earnest elation, delighting in the enthusiasm of the crowd. Seeing a performer so evidently unjaded was a gratifying rarity. Before playing “Death Trap,” she asked the crowd, “Do you know it?”; when they confirmed, she seemed beside herself with joy, beaming as she belted out the all-too-relatable refrain: “The landlord is a piece of crap!”
Slater also played two unreleased songs, “Fig Tree” and “Harriet,” the latter about being jealous of your boyfriend’s ex and feeling unmoored by the lingering legacy of a previous lover. In heart-on-her-sleeve fashion, she recounted crying over toothbrushes (“I’m not obsessed/I’m just upset,” she justified). For “Price on Fun,” about avoiding the ugly things happening in the world, she delivered her lament with exuberance and sparkle, despite being “sick and tired of the state of this nation.”
Slater was gracious and thanked the crowd after each and every song. “We’re all just from small towns in England,” she demurred on behalf of her three-piece backing band. She concluded the set with “24 Hours”: “It's not clear if I am ripening or rotting,” she sang—but ripening she definitely is.
