From the minute the first note is struck, the stage is laid bare.

A black hole, a rollercoaster ride with seatbelts firmly off.

Sublimely savage synth-punk outfit The Scaners beamed down to Sleazy’s from intercontinental space station Dept. 69… that’s Lyon, France to you, mes amis.

What a band. What a night. Utterly spellbinding and all-consuming. A full-throttle, intergalactic shot between your eyes – a musical extravaganza. Iggy × Devo. The Rezillos × early Roxy. Alien Nosejob’s long-lost sibling. Do you get the idea?

Ignore any preconceptions you may have regarding French music and their ability to “do” punk, or any variant of it. All but a few songs are sung in English, with the Gallic swagger adding an extra element of je ne sais quoi and Tabasco that is almost unrivalled.

The energy and drive of this band are impossible to describe or do justice to. Tonight’s standouts are without doubt newer songs such as Brutal City, Satellite Rain and No Return. So fast, so frantic, so brilliant.

Pierre Scaner, wearing Captain Sensible-esque blue sunglasses and a single black glove, leads from the front – a frenetic and mesmerising theatrical attack. The synth and effects add multi-layered depths to the booming bass supplied by Nick Scaner, alongside the snarling, sparkling gold Telecaster (actually a Sordocaster) played by “gun-for-hire” Lou. All of this is held together by the cool Pierrick Scaner, hitting the skins like Tommy Ramone – hard, fast, and unflustered.

Being in a band is almost like being in a gang or a tribe – togetherness, bonded by a shared aesthetic or belief. The Scaners, clad in black and white denim, wear their hearts and manifesto firmly on their sleeves. The Ramones it is not… and yet you know what it is. It is understood. You are drawn in because, although the thread that links all those punk bands and electronic pioneers to this band might be invisible, the connection is tangible and real. The Scaners are not copyists; they are an evolution of the bands you love – with an added hard-hitting sci-fi synth aesthetic that truly sets them apart.

The Scaners didn’t come from outer space, but they had come a long way to be with us. Tonight’s crowd didn’t need to be won over. Most were there because they already knew how good it would be – and, like them, I believed!

À la prochaine, mes amis.

Words: Nick Tamer

Images: Chris Hogge