When I arrived at Brooklyn’s Coco 66 last Friday to see Toronto-based synth-wave duo Trust, the stage was empty, but there was so much theatrical fog wafting in the air that the closet-Goth in me became very giddy, very fast. Wait. Goths can’t be giddy. I became very melodramatic. Prior to the show, I had only heard one dark, sparse electrobotic track of white hot gold named “Candy Walls,” from a two-song 7” via Sacred Bones—the band’s only release to date. Yes, I just made up that word “electrobotic.” According to the band’s bio, Trust formed in 2009 when the pair began writing songs about “nostalgia, lust, and erotomania.” Erotic indeed. Singer Robert Alfons’ haunting, husky baritone smacks of Andrew Eldritch’s pipes pretty hard, but can swing to a nasally high pitch easily. Sigh. Add in tons of laser-like synths, as well as programmed and live beats by drummer Maya Postepski (aka drummer/producer of Austra) and you have some gorgeous slow, sci-fi Tubeway Army meets techno dancy Depeche Mode sounds going on. It’s dramatic and lovely. The band’s icy, somewhat mechanized stage persona fits the music perfectly. Alfons is this hot, thin 6-foot something baby-faced boy with a graceful, captivating stage presence. Wearing jeans and a striped tank that hung on his wiry frame, his movements were minimal. He didn’t talk to the audience and there weren’t any actual breaks between songs. Postepski, equally as hot, seemed to hide behind her huge drum kit and the puffs of fog. Her white-framed glasses were about the only thing that was perfectly visible from where I stood which aggravated the hell out of me. Every song played (with the exception of “Candy Walls” and the angular, frenetic dance track “Gloryhole”) was new to me. One dark, synthed-out shiny present after another. The band has a full-length album releasing later this year. It seriously can’t come quickly enough.