It’s too late. Any budding music journalist looking to break the next big thing in Tennessean, queer electropop has been beaten to the chase by one Vixcine Martine, distinguished professor of art/music ‘herstory’ and author of seminal critique White Heat – The Desire to Discredit the Feminine, supposing Madonna’s reinforcement of patriarchal structures behind a veneer of female empowerment. Switching her scholarly sights to what exactly an artist needs to ‘make’ it as a star, the rising Nashville synthpop artist Klypi has become something of an academic obsession. Addressing a packed lecture hall at the prestigious University of Georgia, Dr Martine explicitly admitted her unorthodox methods to uncover just who they really are, including stalking. It worked. Martine’s interview with the elusive Klypi is a comprehensive and intellectually rigorous exploration of just what makes them tick, displaying a breadth of theory and philosophy behind their craft which feels as studious as any of Bowie’s amalgamated creations.

Identity is increasingly becoming a fickle and pliable thing. Why confine a fluid spectrum to just sexual orientation and gender? We all have a litany of social media aliases. The outspoken politico on Twitter can indulge in hipster chic on Instagram with the swipe of a thumb, and isn’t the array of monikers at our disposal just an extension of the differing roles we play in life anyway, from the professional, the romantic partner, a parent, our friendships which draw out the myriad of dimensions that make our character, from the deep to the silly? This cavalier frivolity to the very definition of identity is a key feature in the work of U.G.A. graduate and multi-disciplinary artist A. C. Carter. Deploying a curious cast of characters and alter-egos, Carter examines their thematic principles of the ever-evolving nature of identity with parts of their own creation: Λ°C formerly known as Lambda Celsius and the aforementioned academic Vixcine Martine. Like an inverse version of Ziggy Stardust announcing his retirement from music, Klypi announces their ‘debut’ album off the back of a reputation for intriguing explorations of gender deviancy and the infinite expanse of self-identification.

Klypi stares at you on the cover of Consensual Hits with a playful defiance. Toast underwear and pickle bra on, the striking photo by Kirt Barnett acutely illustrates the puckish mischief at the heart of the record. Crunchy yet glossy, industrial with a tacky lacquer, L.A. producer Precious Child shapes a punchy zest that bristles with pugnacious fizz, its industrial abrasion less Ministry and more Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814. The monster cuts on Consensual Hits leap out the speakers with awesome force. ‘Cum Quick Then Die’ is grippingly tenacious, big and bold percussive pop that fancies itself as a contender for the Trevor Horn school of production bombast, its pugilism thrillingly coalesces with stirring vocal layers and spikes of gritty wash. This bellicose sparkle is captured just as effectively on ‘Not For You’, a euphoric dance number that scores the song’s defiant affirmation of self-worth and love with a giddy rush of pumped drum machines and basslines that soars so electrically you can taste the sweat, glitter and MDMA as the audacious chorus reaches greater heights of NRG ecstatic. Klypi can deftly balance strutting menace with their synthpop gleam, electroclash is infused with an almost drill ‘n’ bass judder reminiscent of Aphex Twin on the biting ‘Cure And Crisis’, a thoroughly messy and tumultuous brawl illustrating the track’s exploration of volatile infatuation with cutting arrangements and programming.

There’s plenty of detours and turns away from ‘queer Nine Inch Nails’. Expert, pulsing pop shimmers on the utterly infectious ‘Get Over You’, an effortless cut of pixie-club elation that manages to straddle several eras of synthpop at once, from the uptempo bounce of Erasure to La Roux’s retro chic. ‘Dark Web Dream’ displays an acoustic heart beneath the synths and digital production, a sombre piano drops in harmony with Carter’s ardent vocals detailing longing in the social media age with a chorus that would stir just as deeply if reduced to its bare, organic foundations. There’s a subversive flourish on ‘Hardcoors Lite’, a faux-anthem that twists ‘Amazing Grace’ away from its lofty heritage and shoved firmly into the spit and sawdust of a rodeo arena in the hangover of Trump’s America, while bit-crushed kawaii pop jaunts with Carter’s cloying child-like singing on the irreverent ‘Klypi Square’. Each stylistic branch adds new and welcome dimensions to Klypi’s effervescent front which never dilutes or distracts their hypepop spice.

Great artists always create work that’s inescapably imbued with the socio-political climate that surrounds it, and Klypi’s debut effort feels like a natural document of everything exciting and revolutionary being pioneered by artists in the trans and queer communities. Consensual Hits is a thrilling piece of the dynamic, forward-thinking pop that thrusts itself into the contemporary discourse around identity and gender but also points to how fun, freeing, and buoyant life could be when rid of the shackles of patriarchy and heteronormative stagnation.