Porcelain id, the latest gem from Belgium, knows how to touch deeply with fragile songs

Antwerp is the city where drunken students drown, where skaters hang out in their concrete parks, where girlfriends use too much coke. For example, Porcelain id lovingly sings about the birds of paradise of Antwerp in sentences that ripple with his flexible voice. Last night the melancholy dark side of the Belgian city was briefly in Amsterdam. Porcelain id, who as a non-binary person prefers the pronouns that/them/their, knows how to deeply touch people in the small Zonzij hall of Paradiso Noord with their idiosyncratic lo-fi pop songs.

Hubert Tuyishime, the person behind the fragile alias, has a fascinating voice that can sound dark and lyrical like Nick Cave, but can also be clear and soulful. Bon Iver is a clear influence. The layered interaction with the second voice of his keyboardist seems to betray something of the gospel with which Tuyishime grew up. Tuyishime moved with their parents from Rwanda to Belgium at the age of nine and later developed there as an illustration student in the band scene.

Elusive

Belgium has been enthusiastic about this talent for some time. Porcelain id previously came to the Netherlands as a support act for the equally elusive singer Meskerem Mees and has already had success at Grasnapolsky and Eurosonic. But the name has not yet reached Amsterdam, as it turns out, because there are less than thirty visitors in the room. They are treated to a band that has clearly been in hot water. “I won’t babble too much,” says Porcelain id, using his supple little body to spur the band on to the first of eleven intense songs.

The Dutch-language work from before is omitted. Hen mainly plays songs from the new English album Bibi:1 that describes a move from the quiet Kempen to Antwerp. The fragile acoustic songs are sometimes brutally contrasted by angular electronic music, via samples from the drum pads and keys played with fists. The beautiful ‘Habibi (ru alone?)’ revolves around the layered polyphonic phrase ‘You always said I was so pretty’ and is full of musical and lyrical twists, so that in five minutes it feels like a short story whose core remains incomprehensible.

It is sometimes extremely oppressive, as they themselves admit: “Well, I was completely in it. I also just realized that it is not going to get any less intense.” The contrasts in his music are reflected in the stage presentation. After another dive into personal life, announced as the last song, they plug in a new guitar. “Sorry, I forgot a number.” It cannot be long before the Netherlands falls for this new pearl of its southern neighbors.

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