Welcome to the Chateau, a Franz Ferdinand-curated club night and the last night of Frieze Music 2004, a three-day festival featuring a backslapping amalgamation of art and music. Indie kids mingle with gallery dwellers. Surrealist films flicker on a large screen, changing focus like visual disturbances during a migraine.

At an event that is essentially a celebration of surface, garage blues duo the Kills have found their spiritual home. On paper they're perfect. There's Jamie "Hotel" Hince on guitar, offering a Graham Coxon-patented slice of London-hued intensity. Florida-born Alison "VV" Mosshart, on vocals, has the raw sex appeal of Debbie Harry and the frazzled appearance of the undead protagonist in the horror film The Ring. The poses are practised, the sneers studied.

Though often compared to the White Stripes, the Kills' sound is more a dirty, dirgy take on Boss Hog. On 2003's debut album, Keep on Your Mean Side, filthy licks and chugging rhythms drive every lust-filled observation, curse and demand. They make Jack and Meg look like Playaway presenters.

But the Kills are a tease. While the Rolling Stones-inspired country blues of Black Rooster grows claustrophobic, Mosshart pulls off a large, beige floppy hat and jerks her limbs like a fitting robot. Turning her microphone towards Hince, they sing the refrain, "the kids like to fuck and fight" at each other. It looks like abrasive foreplay and feels utterly exclusive.

The music keeps its distance too. Though Cat Claw is sassy pop, Fried My Little Brains is merely a grinding, repetitive riff and an attitude-driven refrain. Mosshart's voice drips with provocation, but Hince's is a low mumble, a drum machine drowning out the vocal interplay between them.

But not the action. As Hince plays another set of buzzing chords, he stares at Mosshart maniacally, edging her backwards. She grinds close to him as he jolts against her, their bodies barely touching but the intent unmistakable. It's all about appearance, after all.