The role of creativity is many and varied, to inform, to entertain, to reassure, to challenge, to confound, to frighten. If you find some of your preferences in the second half of that list then the wonderfully named Silent Disco Sex are probably for you. They come from a dark musical place, one that draws from eerie and edgy electronica, slow, shuffling and doom-laden dance beats, strange swirling synth riffs, heady atmospheres and heavy spoken word top lines. Throw in a video which looks like it was spawned by the Saw franchise and you have something well outside the usual range of pop gloss and dance dross.
Their’s is a playground of dystopian hi-jinks, of night times on the decaying streets, of subversion and protest, of industrial wastelands and underground nightclubs, of shadows and neon, light and shade taken to it’s extremes. It is the collision point of the sound of distant, industrial machinations and transient, clinical digital languages, the distant humming of the modern world and the poetry of decay. It is a distant, disembodied opera, which echoes from our technology reflecting the detachment and unease of the world around us.
They are fellow sonic travellers of the likes of Nine Inch Nails, reminiscent of a mutant coupling of Depeche Mode and Tool, a blend of gothic claustrophobia, industrial bleakness and dark, dance drama. It is easy to see where they come from, where some of their references lie, but the ability to shape those influences into new statements, musically speaking, about the world they find themselves in and comment on where it may be heading is all you can ask of them.