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London W1 Lil' Backyard Club

...there are no instruments involved, just a lot of screaming, a flurry of coruscating beats and bad dancing. All in the name of 'art'...

There's no way to prepare yourself for something like this. Seeking shelter from one of the stormiest, nastiest nights in recent memory, you descend into the nearest indie hovel and find four women in corsets shouting over a DAT machine. Along with a very old bloke in a safari hat and a girl dressed up as a cat, of course.



This is where Lolita Storm meet Chicks On Speed meet, er, the abominable Malcolm McLaren-managed Ping Pong. That means there are no instruments involved, just a lot of screaming, a flurry of coruscating beats and bad dancing. All in the name of 'art'.



The cat does nothing but smoke cigarettes and gaze scornfully at the crowd. The corset-clad quartet pout and flash their cleavage occasionally. And the old bloke berates the audience for not being enthusiastic enough. At one point, they all break into a spontaneous chant, repeating "digital hardcore" over a screeching, juddering squall of electronic noise.



It's not the iconoclastic Digital Hardcore label, however, which has recently signed The Fighting Cocks, but old stalwart RCA. If this is the corporate face of the new revolution, it's certainly not a straight one. It'll be interesting to see what happens next.

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