Chloé Raunet becomes a different person on stage.

“I know ‘everyday’ Chloé”, says executive producer Ivan Smagghe, “‘performer’ Chloé is almost someone alien to me. I suppose that's a compliment on her being on stage.”

She agrees: “I very much have a performing persona that’s not really the person I am day to day.”

It is an intense and extroverted version of herself, an ultra-ego if you like, which even carries over into her DJ gigs, when she has been known to climb on tables and swing off rafters.

How did the child who was “painfully shy” become this unconstrained performer who terrorises DJ booths and expounds the deepest recesses of her feelings to crowds?

Chloé credits school theatre productions for giving her some inner steel (though she still has nightmares about waiting in the wings). She says when everyone is relying on you, you have no choice but to go out there. And although her experience, aged 18, at the prestigious LAMDA acting school in London put her off the profession, she learnt skills that she could take into music.

“I think it’s given me a certain presence and an understanding of how to move about on stage, how to engage people in that sense which is definitely invaluable.

“Also I do a lot of imagining - I’ll be singing in the first person but not as myself, I’ll have personas, and I do that a lot, and that probably comes from the acting as well.”

Suddenly finding herself as front woman of Battant with precious little experience, the prospect of performing would leave her “terrified for days”. After only a couple of gigs they were on tour supporting the Brian Eno-approved electronic band Ladytron - riding such a steep learning curve it’s no wonder she would have a little bucket by the side of the stage to vomit in.

What would she worry about in particular? “Singing out of tune was a big one. Hearing your voice out of a monitor [speaker] sounds a lot different and is something you have to learn. Also I was a very shy insecure 22 - you worry about what you look like and trying to be cool.”

She feels the key to the success of any gig is the rapport with the audience: “There’s an energy that’s created”, she says, “it’s about a live experience. It’s about creating something that only exists there and then in that moment of time. It’s not necessarily something that you capture on your iPhone. That’s what you strive for. But it doesn’t happen all the time.”

She has no pre-conceived strategy to achieve this, fearing it would undermine the authenticity for which she strives. According to her, honesty is the only real path to those truly transcendental experiences.

“I want to be genuine. So if I’m not feeling chatty and I if I don’t have anything to say, I get a bit tongue-tied and I can get super, super-awkward. I don’t really chat much on stage. Sometimes it works sometimes it doesn’t, either you’re going to connect with someone or you’re not. 

“But when I’m watching a gig the one thing that instantly makes me turn away is if I feel people are trying too hard or they’re not being genuine. Especially nowadays there’s something to be said for sincerity. You like it or you don’t, but at least I’m going to be honest with you - “This is how I feel today” - and from that I think you can have some really amazing real things happen. Or not!” she laughs.

A recent gig in a Roman wine cave near Geneva was just one example. “When we played it was totally packed and they were so attentive. Something happened, I felt really connected with everybody and the sound was really good and I know it’s a cliché but there were times you could hear a pin drop and it was like super, super cool.”

Such experiences, Chloé says, can leave you on a massive high but, like a drug, she will come crashing down, something that pre-gig nerves only exacerbate. She remembers the day after a live performance on Arte, the French-German cultural channel.

“You build yourself up and then I swear the adrenalin crash is worse than any comedown. Like borderline suicidal, wandering around like you have this energy void.” 

This is one of the drawbacks of being a solo performer but she has since learnt how to deal with it. Unfortunately talking it through with friends isn’t really an option.

“Maybe I should but it’s really hard to explain to somebody. “I’m feeling really shit because I did this really cool thing last night! And I’m in a foreign city and I’m living the dream but I feel really crap!””