Monday 9 November 2015, 8pm
The crash & crush of Our Love Will Destroy the World's high-volume catatonic meanderings has always been something for those with a propensity for hysteria to avoid. Intimidating walls of eternal crescendo, sonic event-horizon levitations, multi-tonal throat-wreckage, the blood, the blisters, the burning smell… a silver rocketship of infinite fury, controls jammed, on a collision course for the stillness at the heart of the nearest galactic catastrophe.
Hailing from pretty-much Nowhere, New Zealand, its been nearly 20 years since Campbell Kneale's family sold him to the monks and he began his quest under the name Birchville Cat Motel. Today, a canonised saint of alchemical sound, he casually wields enormous esoteric power… desiccating 'music' into teensy little pieces and clumsily reanimating the unrecognisable bits into massive living creatures, tragically disfigured, with hearts of gold.
Michael Speers (b.1992) is a drummer, sound artist and researcher from County Down, Ireland.
Currently a PhD student at SARC: Centre for Interdisciplinary Research in Sound and Music, Belfast.
His practice incorporates percussion, feedback, digital synthesis and environmental sound in the creation of improvised performances, site-specific sound installations and electroacoustic compositions.
He has performed internationally in venues such as: Café OTO; LOM; Les Instants Chavirés; Les Ateliers Claus; Morphine Raum; SARC Sonic Lab; National Concert Hall (Dublin) and at Sonic Acts Festival.
Recordings published by Anòmia, C.A.N.V.A.S., Party Perfect!, Wasted Capital Since 2013, Takuroku, Krim Kram and Feedback Moves.
More commonly performing as one half of itinerant UK project Trans/Human, Luke Twyman's solo guise continues to conjure harsh, deep sweeping zones of noise, discomfort and tension. Calling upon his pick 'n mix junk buffet of mobile phones, battery chargers, muscle stimulation devices, radios and loose feedback systems, Twyman lifts the veil on the electronic guts of everyday items and recombines the resulting sonic discharge into a awkward stack of crushed beats, beeps and squeaks.
