It's pronounced te-le-pa-thy, and indeed there does seem to be some kind of unspoken link between the Brooklyn duo of Melissa Livaudais and Busy Gangnes, as if they were one being split in two.
Inside the tiny glitterball and sweat mine of Sneaky Pete's, hemmed up against the back wall and surrounded by walls of machinery (plus one solitary snare drum), they resemble tiny alien children, wide-eyed orphan twins who have been abducted and forced to pump out bass-heavy futuristic mantras for our collective pleasure.
Busy, in particular, looks breathless and petrified, gasping for water at one point, her fragile vocals almost submerged beneath the cacophonous sonic wash. Melissa remains static and pale under a crow wing fringe, clinging onto her synth banks as though being physically pummelled by the sound.
Similar to fellow Brooklyn travellers such as Gang Gang Dance and These Are Powers, Telepathe take nostalgic themes of future past and twist them into 21st century dimensions. Their sound combines shape-shifting Autechre-like abstraction with epic shades of eighties electro pop. Throughout their brief but seamless performance, it feels like being pulled onto a speeding bullet train, rushing ever onwards while being buffered with melancholy visions of bright tomorrows.
DVD clips playing on loops behind Telepathe reinforce this impression. A woman wandering back and forth, lost in forested glades. Cable lines passing overhead framed by a darkening sky. Shared, downloaded memories for the post Blade Runner generation. Lives lived forever in electric dreams.