I left my flat feeling intimidated. I have little connection to the Discord-fuelled, scene-inspired subcultures that moulded St. Louis siblings Angel and Lulu Prost. I felt out of my depth—an amateur phony of a fan infiltrating a cult following. 

What was I doing at The Night Cat on March 5^th, queuing to witness Frost Children’s Melbourne debut? I first found the electronic duo through their remix of Charli xcx’s “Mean Girls”, then rediscovered them after the release of the album single “RADIO” with Kim Petras. When Australian tickets were released for the tour of their newly dropped album SISTER, I initially didn’t bite the bullet. But when another show date was added at Night Cat, I figured it could be a sign. I, like many others, couldn’t get enough of the seedy, layered sensory overload of the project. SISTER is, in Frost Children’s own words, ‘a fantasy of where pop can go’ and ‘maximal Emotional Dance Music’. Surely it’d be fun, even if I lacked the wardrobe and the company, having failed to entice my flatmates for what they described as an ‘obscure techno show’. 

The evening commenced with what can only be described as a ‘cunty’ remix of Ethel Cain’s “American Teenager”, mixed by opening act jamesjamesjames. As per his triple j bio, I can attest that the LA-bred, Brisbane-based DJ does indeed spin ‘sexy Y2K techno music for anyone…skinny, rich, blonde, a little bit of a b***h, or all of the above’. While I wept internally at the initial lack of dancing to the incredible house rendition of Preacher’s Daughter, by the time Addison Rae’s “Aquamarine” blared halfway through the set, the crowd had settled into a respectable sway, featuring the occasional shy headbang. 

It was during the turnover before Frost Children graced the stage that I uneasily surveyed my surroundings. I lacked not only the crowd’s colourfully dyed hair and constellation of piercings, but also the subtle otolaryngologic shield of earplugs—Loop Earplugs could probably do well with a Frost Children collaboration. 

Never fear—I emerged with my hearing intact, though that is no testament to the high decibels of Frost Children’s performance. Illuminated beneath a glowing, angular ‘Cool S’ LED sign—the nostalgic graffiti symbol that anchors the SISTER cover art—the duo launched straight into the guttural, throaty screams of “ELECTRIC”. Within seconds, the metallic synths sent the crowd into a ceaseless, unified bounce. The sweaty, slightly rancid catharsis quickly smoothed over any lingering self-conscious anxieties of the solo concertgoer. There were at least six clumsy mosh pits over the course of the set, peaking with drop-heavy favourites like “Position Famous”, “Falling”, “Bound2U” and “2 LØVE”. Angel and Lulu delivered a fierce performance. But in truth, it was the unabashed zeal of the audience that powered the room. 

That mosh-heavy energy encapsulates one of SISTER’s greatest strengths. The production is all raw, chaotic and glitchy—a real brain-tickler, but still club-ready. Equally, the album masterfully combines the jumpy, hyperactive tracks with authentic emotional depth and nostalgia, particularly on the reflective title track “Sister”. The throughline of their distinct production style allows introspection and frenzy to coexist without sacrificing cohesion. 

Between stretches of performing the album, the Prost siblings retreated to a back corner of the in-the-round stage to showcase their Boiler Room-famous DJing. I’ll admit—their slightly hidden position was visually awkward, though centre-stage decks would likely have obstructed the vocal performances. Nevertheless, the mini-mix featuring Ninajirachi’s “F**k My Computer” made up for their clunky arrangement. I had lofty dreams of a cameo from Australia’s EDM darling—a frequent Frost Children collaborator—but the affectionate shout-out and remix were satisfying enough. 

The concert closed on a wholesome note. Before the final songs, the crowd broke into a rendition of “Happy Birthday” for younger sister Lulu. In return, the duo rewarded the room with encore performances of “COUP” and “FOX BOP”, opening tracks from earlier albums SPEED RUN and Spiral. 

With the Prosts having kissed us goodbye and the strobes giving way to dull overhead lights, no one was keen to linger in the smog of Night Cat BO. As I left the sweaty endorphin-fogged venue, battered and busted, I could only think of one thing. The words of Kim Petras echoed in my head: “Frost Children bitch”.