Sisters of Transistors
Sisters of Transistors / St Clements Church May 2011
This much I know for certain: Sisters of Transistors are an enigmatic female organ quartet specializing in vintage horror-synth, psychomanic soundtracks and electro-plasma, summoned from the ether by Graham Massey of 808 State on drums in the Renfield-like role of servant and producer. Anything beyond this is confabulation, thanks to a brilliantly inventive backstory now picked up by dozens of music sites unable to tell fact from fiction (“It’s on the web – so it must be true!”)
M&S cult party frock range
Citing an ancestral link to the ill-fated Lillian Meyers Quartet at the 1939 NY World’s Fair, a tale unfolds of sub-harmonic prowess which induced first nausea, then euphoria, but which according to conflicting sources generated a sonic tsunami resulting in the collapse of the host pavilion. Here in the present, the current disciples hole up at the South Manchester Museum of Keyboard Technology, where battered Moogs and phase distorters are sponged, sluiced and nurtured back to life.
- Image source: The Quietus
Making a rare appearance at St Clements Church to make use of the 42 khz resonant knave as part of the Chorlton Arts Festival, the Sisters waste no time in channeling the digi-gloom of Kraftwerk, knowing obscurity of Add N to (X) and forgivable meandering of Stereolab (via The Groovy Ghoulies). Their signature single The Don remained the most immediately accessible, touching upon bootleg Goldfrapp territory, while Solar Disco could be the missing encore track from Daft Punk’s album Discovery.
But it’s the ecclesiastical gothic conjured by the likes of The Bells of Moscow (all Phantom-like key pounding and red velvet ripples) that fill the room with a sense of menace that belies their gold-cloaked theatrics. Beat Girl fuses Huggy Bear with Russ Meyer, Dies Irae drops Goblin into an all-girl school assembly, while Sisterhead hits a B52’s freakzone sweetspot. Debut album At The Ferranti Institute exchanges the live, residual vibrato bleed for a handsome matt finish.
All that was lacking was a spot of on-stage banter, but these ladies nix the chat and head straight to the altar, there to pledge devotion to their craft as they resurrect long-deceased vintage kit and chords into the dark service of Sun-Ra.
Wave Your Hands In The Air
Thanks to friend and collaborator Sam Meech for riding to my rescue, a blonde knight upon his horse Isadora to deliver title animations for Unsilent Night tomorrow. I have blisters on my hand from carrying the 'portable' AnyCast vision mixing desk over from Manchester on the train (the approximate weight of a drowned man wearing flannel pyjamas) and just over 24 hours to remind myself how it works again.
The Face of a Crow
This video clip from local musicians a.P.A.t.T. makes me laugh very much. That and glow crimson with admiration for John's courage to dress and perform as he does here. It's not his usual daywear, I assure you. These folk are providing the score to two of our shorts at Unsilent Night at the Big Screen Liverpool and BBC Merseyside on Thursday 29th October... Aladin ou la lampe merveilleuse (1906) and George Méliès' Voyage à travers l'impossible (1904). I suspect the sequins and chest hair may stay out of sight, but we might strike lucky. It's going to be special.
Unsilent Night
The Great Train Robbery / image source BFI
I can now reveal that following the great response to last year's relay of Nosferatu accompanied by a live original soundtrack, similar plans are far advanced for what we hope will be an annual recurring event: Unsilent Night. In conjunction with Liverpool Music Week and BBC Radio Merseyside's PMS show fronted by Roger Hill, we'll be taking a foolhardy step forward from the single-film format to screen six silent shorts - many from the BFI archive - that will be treated to new and in some cases entirely improvised soundtracks by North West musicians a.P.a.T.t, Fonik and Frakture, in a one-off event on Thursday 29th October at 7pm.
Invaluable support comes from the brave and perhaps a little flummoxed folk at Liverpool City Council, Northwest Vision & Media and Liverpool City Central BID. The line-up will be revealed over the next few weeks, but will include arguably the first narrative film, The Great Train Robbery (1903), directed by Edwin S. Porter and 12 minutes in length.
This includes a now iconic final shot of a gun being fired at the camera/audience, said to cause those present to leap and squeal in fright. But will modern audiences well-versed in staring fear in the face by riding the upper deck of the night bus on a Friday night even bat an eyelid? At least we'll be well-ventilated should anyone backfire.
Addictive TV
Last weekend I trotted over to support my colleague Louise Angell at the Big Screen Derby, which occupies a key spot at the heart of the Market Place adjacent to QUAD where much of the landmark activity for the three-day street celebration that is Feste 09 was taking place. Saturday night culminated in easily the LOUDEST big screen event I have ever seen or heard as Addictive TV fused a unique blend of classic and contemporary film, dance music and visuals for a spectacular VJ remix at the base and above.
Hopping between classic archive footage of Jazz greats coupled with Laurel and Hardy, they segued effortlessly into remixes of The Fast & The Furious, vintage Star Trek (oh, for a repeat burst laser button of my own), a mash-up between New Order and Franz Ferdinand and a finale involving The Italian Job that supplanted a caffeine drip as I nearly keeled over with sensory-stimulation. I had to be led shaking to the nearest pint before I could begin to make sense of it all.
Hey Lean Diggy Doggy
© Zsa Zsa Noir
In Manchester, like every city, there are those who loudly announce themselves to be the leaders of the pack, and those who simply get on with blazing a trail so flammable that sirens and the release of gushing liquids follow close behind. The trans-cendent Zsa Zsa Noir towers above the usual club vixens, and where she goes, you can be sure of a good time. Notorious for her self-made outfits combining bin bag bling with legs long enough to double as roof supports, she continues to pursue her own music practice and fashion styling; building a unique visual identity that veers between giant funfair prize teddy brooches to an outbreak of diseased microbial pom-poms.
Zsa Zsa and I became re-aquainted earlier this year after meeting first at Liverpool's now defunct yet legendary KoOkoO clubnight from promoter and festival programmer Gary Everett. In response to my open call for volunteer freaks to participate in the live performance and UK premiere of Peaches Christ presents All About Evil, by the time the night in question arrived Zsa Zsa was kitted out in basque and boots as psychotic street hustler and usher Adrian (played in the accompanying movie by Noah Segan). Keeping the crowd entertained during the queue outside the cinema, she ended up facing down the riot police when they arrived with dog handlers in tow at reports of a protest turned ugly. If being fabulous is a crime, she's guilty as hell.
photo by Neil Shearer
As the rest of us deflate like punctured sex dolls at the close of the year, Zsa Zsa pumps up the volume and twiddles knobs to FIERCE with the release of her self-written, composed, edited and even directed music track and video, Hey Lean Diggy Doggy. It's beyond excellent, merging American electro and hip-hop (think Avenue D meets Fischerspooner wrapped in Cazwell's soiled sheets), with a distinctly English, and-your-problem-is? sensibility that has her strutting her stuff in one of our local Satanic mills and calling upon the support of the region's queer-punk DIY foot soldiers. Available for download on iTunes with the video posted for repeat viewing on YouTube, I'd urge you to show two fingers to austerity Britain by supporting a glimmer of light in the encroaching darkness.