La Sécurité
Bingo!
Album · Punk · 2026 · Mothland
Dance-punk that buffs its angular edges with absurdist humour.
Montreal quintet La Sécurité has never been shy about paying their respects to the early-2000s wave of discordant dance-punk, which itself was an echo of the late-’70s death-disco movement, but on the title track to their second album, they pay homage to an even older generation.
Over the rubbery basslines and ping-ponging synths of “Bingo,” the group’s delightfully deadpan vocalist Éliane Viens imagines herself as a senior citizen dabbing away on her scorecard at the group home—a subversively wholesome premise that perfectly encapsulates this band’s knack for buffing their angular edges with absurdist humor.
Bingo! is a total blast from front to back, a tilt-a-whirl surge of B-52’s camp, Le Tigre sass, and Death From Above 1979 horsepower that’s constantly reformulating itself in surprising ways: “Detour” hits the floor with propulsive go-go dancer energy before the guitars start ringing out like someone pulling a fire alarm, while “Princesse” splits the difference between frisky funk workout and dream-pop reverie.
Bingo!
La Sécurité
Dance-punk that buffs its angular edges with absurdist humour.
Montreal quintet La Sécurité has never been shy about paying their respects to the early-2000s wave of discordant dance-punk, which itself was an echo of the late-’70s death-disco movement, but on the title track to their second album, they pay homage to an even older generation.
Over the rubbery basslines and ping-ponging synths of “Bingo,” the group’s delightfully deadpan vocalist Éliane Viens imagines herself as a senior citizen dabbing away on her scorecard at the group home—a subversively wholesome premise that perfectly encapsulates this band’s knack for buffing their angular edges with absurdist humor.
Bingo! is a total blast from front to back, a tilt-a-whirl surge of B-52’s camp, Le Tigre sass, and Death From Above 1979 horsepower that’s constantly reformulating itself in surprising ways: “Detour” hits the floor with propulsive go-go dancer energy before the guitars start ringing out like someone pulling a fire alarm, while “Princesse” splits the difference between frisky funk workout and dream-pop reverie.
