Charlotte Adigéry and Bolis Pupul are a house-inspired electro-pop duo from Belgium signed to Deewee (the label owned by Stephen and David Dewaele of the legendary band Soulwax) and are seemingly gunning for the spot as the most famous Belgian pop act since Gotye’s 2011 smash hit. Their debut Topical Dancer was one of our favorite albums of the year so far, and although they’re a talented act in their own right, it helps that Beyoncé released the house-inspired Renaissance shortly after their debut came out, opening the genre to a larger audience.
“I was like, ‘Oh, wow! She’s making house [music] now,’” Adigéry tells me over Zoom. “It’s a good thing for us, because sometimes the little voice in my head tells me we’re not making music that’s ‘in.’ I feel like sometimes people see us as an underground, niche project, which is fine. I think these projects are important and part of the evolution of music.”
As I talk to Adigéry and Pupul, they fiddle with their AirPods, struggling to connect them to their computer. They apologize in their French accents for talking with me while in their hotel lobby as Coldplay blares over the lobby’s speakers. During our conversation, I can see they have undeniable chemistry in addition to both artists seeming individually charismatic. It’s no surprise, then, that they’ve already shared the stage with Grace Jones and are set to perform at Desert Daze Festival in Moreno Valley for the first time this weekend.
“I feel like sometimes people see us as an underground, niche project, which is fine. I think these projects are important and part of the evolution of music.”
— Charlotte Adigéry
Adigéry was born in France and is of Martiniquan and Guadelupean descent, while Pupul is of Chinese and Belgian descent. Their paths converged in Belgium after Adigéry was asked by the Dewaele brothers to work on the soundtrack to Belgica, a 2016 cult film about a group of friends who run a bar. “I felt a little intimidated when I first got into the studio because initially it was me alone, and I had huge writer's block, and they suggested I work with Bolis,” says Adigéry. “[However], we both trusted Stephen and David. We trust their approach to music and the people they choose to make music with.”
Pupul had a different journey to Deewee. His father, Kamagurka, is a Belgian musician, cartoonist, comedian, and director. Through his father, he met the Dewaeles when he was just a teenager. He would see Stephen and David from time to time, and they were always interested in what he was doing. They approached him one day and told him they were going to start a label and that they were going to sign him as one of their first artists—though it didn’t quite work out immediately. “They were like, ‘Hey man, we’re going to sign you as one of our first artists,’” Pupul recalls. “And I was like, ‘Yeah sure.’ I actually had to wait almost 20 years for it!”
Adigéry and Pupul hit it off so well because they developed a deep emotional connection while working and traveling for the Belgica film. They first gravitated toward each other due to similar work ethics: little compromise, plenty of risk, and a general disinterest in what other people think. “We also connect with food—we love food,” says Adigéry. “I think that makes us a perfect match because we spend a lot of time together. We always have something to talk about, and we love to laugh together. It’s a match I didn’t expect, but I’m grateful that I met this guy.”
“Whenever you start mixing humor with art, people tend to think you’re not serious. And I think Charlotte and I are very serious about our music, but at the same time, we’re not serious about ourselves.”
— Bolis Pupul
Their success is also thanks to Belgium’s burgeoning music scene, which is supported by the country’s relatively low cost of living. Most artists, Adigéry explains, can make a living by having one side job at most. She tells me she paid a measly $1,000 a year to study music in Belgium, while in the US, most will spend at least 10 times that. However making it internationally as a Belgian act isn’t quite so easy as it is here. “From a business point of view, we don’t have managers in Belgium who have the capacity to place artists on a certain stage,” explains Pupul. “Partly, a manager can live from a few artists. They're not really pushed to go abroad. At the same time, when they have an artist who has a lot of attention abroad, a lot of other managers take over their job.”
Touring the world and speaking with journalists about their music has forced them to navigate other difficult aspects of the music industry. One thing they seem to encounter time after time is pigeonholing. They dislike the assumption that one of them is only a producer and the other is only a singer. They both experiment with beats, lyrics, and melody when writing music, and although they both have their strengths, they see their partnership as a complex interaction that defies parameters. “It annoys us when [journalists] call him my producer and me the singer. No way! It’s way more complex than that,” says Adigéry.
“A lot of people think we’re a couple, which isn’t true,” adds Pupul. “Just friends with benefits,” teases Adigéry.
Both artists enjoy questioning and poking fun at things—an elemental force also found in their writing. Their lyrics contain Hemingway-like depth through simplicity mixed with a punk-rock bravado and a dash of surrealism, making Topical Dancer frequently feel like punk music you can dance to. Standout songs like “Blenda” and “It Hit Me” showcase lyrical complexity not typically heard in most debut albums. Adigéry sings about sexism, xenophobia, and racism and subverts these heavy issues by using humor and a hypnotic groove, creating a paradoxical yet pleasing tension. “[Pupul] is going to mansplain it for you,” says Adigéry, attempting to contain her laughter, as she shares how the duo found their voice.
“The most important ingredient was to not think about it too much and to let our intuition speak.”
— Charlotte Adigéry
“In the first EP, we didn’t know what we were doing,” Pupul says. “In the second one, we tried to go deeper and analyze what we are actually doing. For the album, we looked back and took it further—that’s why the album became more conceptual.” They also had the help of the label heads, Stephen and David, who would regularly talk to Adigéry and Pupul about their music and help them distill the ingredients, which set the duo apart from other acts. “The most important ingredient was to not think about it too much and to let our intuition speak,” adds Adigéry
Humor in art can be tricky for most, but Adigéry and Pupul stand out with their ability to walk the line between a political stance and commentary on the absurdity of the topic. “Sometimes, in my opinion, there’s a lack of humor in art in general,” says Pupul. “Whenever you start mixing humor with art, people tend to think you’re not serious. And I think Charlotte and I are very serious about our music, but at the same time, we’re not serious about ourselves. I’m just suggesting this to the world for free, but politicians could use some of our humor.” FL
