IIt’s 9am in San Francisco and Confidence Man is having some creative differences. “Sugar wants to do a pantomime horse, but there’s no way to do it in a hot way,” says frontwoman Janet Planet, talking about her bandmate’s plans to add even more chaos to their already hilarious live shows. She speaks like clockwork, hair wet from the shower, while her bandmate Sugar Bones lounges on the hotel bed. “People are also really against shooting lasers into the crowd, so if there was a way to invent a laser that wouldn’t burn your retinas…”
A Confidence Man show is somewhere between a school play and a rave. The Australian four-piece have been bubbling since 2016, when they formed from the ashes of various indie projects; getting drunk and writing pop songs proved much more entertaining. Since then, every wild festival appearance has brought them new fans: even the most cynical, hardened “real music” freak would struggle not to be enchanted by their irresistibly sweet Eurodance or by Bones swinging Planet – often wearing a Madonna-style cone bra – over his shoulders. One writer aptly described them as “Goth Aqua”: despite their slightly vampiric hotness – Bones was topless and bleeding on stage at Glastonbury this year – they are experienced party-starters who want to have fun, and fun is infectious.
On stage, their synchronized dance moves are nerdily seductive and expressionless, almost to the point of being shady. Planet and Bones choreograph most of the dances themselves, constantly trying to outdo themselves. Earlier this year, they even spent hours with one of Beyoncé’s choreographers, learning how to do a shuffle. “We just couldn’t get it right,” Planet says. “So embarrassing. At the end, we were like, thanks, man, but… just go. I think we took one of his moves and completely destroyed it.”
Behind the two frontmen are producer Reggie Goodchild and “Enigma” Clarence McGuffie, who never appear without their dark beekeeper veils and whose pseudonyms come from gravestones. They remain static behind the drums and the decks and are happy to leave the spotlight to the party starters up front. Confidence Man is a real live success that spreads by word of mouth: at Glastonbury, fans turned up in their best cone bras and beekeeper hats to honor them.
Buoyed by the huge success of 2023’s clubland hit Now U Do (recorded with DJ Seinfeld), the group’s forthcoming third album, 3am (La La La), has the feel of speeding through the city in an Uber, following the party to the next stop. It crackles with the optimism of the hedonistic ’90s rave scene and the DayGlo melodies of novelty hits, tempered by the seedy undercurrent of a warehouse party. “All the songs live in a dark world,” says Bones, inspired by the band’s move to east London and its seedy nightlife, with its dank clubs and sweaty ceilings. This “nighttime vibe” is underlined by the artwork, which features, among other things, a burning helicopter falling from the night sky while a badger looks on and smokes a cigarette.
The record was made at the hour of the album’s title, with the band sitting drunk in a studio at their new home in Dalston. Planet says: “I think as a party band you should probably party when you’re writing your music, otherwise…”
Bones finishes the thought: “Who the hell are we otherwise?”
That energy permeates 3am (La La La), the antithesis of what Planet calls her “very bright and airy” 2022 album Tilt: Her vocals trip girlishly around bouncing synths and echoing four-on-the-floor beats. On a song called Janet, she and Bones trade lines like snippets of conversation from the smoking area, while the jittery orchestral cues feel like dancing through a crowd, searching for your mates. Lead single I Can’t Lose You is a perfect example of late-summer Eurodance, complete with killer hook, distant explosions and sparkling, crepuscular breakdown.
As the last slime-green wisp of Brat summer sinks over the horizon, Confidence Man are ready to take charge of the autumnal after-party. There’s talk of mysterious robots turning up when they tour in November in support of the new album. “We’re going to spend every dollar we get pretty much at the first opportunity,” says Bones. Literally: At a previous show they wanted to throw their entire fee in cash over the crowd as a tribute to their spiritual godfathers, the KLF, who burned through a million pounds. “They didn’t let us, sorry,” says Planet.
Everything is designed to give the audience a good time. “In the 10 years or more that I’ve known Janet, every single party she’s been at, she’s just running around, grabbing people and dragging them onto the dance floor,” says Bones.
Planet looks delighted as she jumps in: “Now I can do it professionally!”
