Get tickets: ticketf.ly/2rYQzTF
Drab Majesty is an inter-dimensional platform aimed at channeling aural and visual messages founded by a human being from Los Angeles in 2013. The human communes directly with it's spiritual muse/assumed alter-ego Deb Demure to demonstrate the power in relinquishing ownership to a divine design, thereby handing inspiration over to the spirit world — essentially serving as a contractor in business with the Collective Consciousness.
Relying on those principles, Drab Majesty, from its inception, set out to achieve no specific style, yet over the span of a European tour, several US tours, an LP entitled «Careless» (released and reissued 3 times on DAIS Records), 2 cassette EP's, and a 7-inch on (Weyrd Son/Brussels), Deb has honed in on a pointed aesthetic.
While inherently guitar-driven music in the vain of The Chameleons or Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Drab Majesty's sound is often nuanced by ethereal washes of icy keyboards and arpeggiated synthesizers, backed by heavy mechanized percussion and forked pulsing synth bass, all adorned with reverb-laden vocals reminiscent of a hallowed cathedral.
In the past two years Deb has been invited to support bands such as Psychic TV, Clan of Xymox, The Frozen Autumn, Prayers, and label mates Youth Code and King Dude to name a few. Part alien, part mime, part priestess — yet all summed up in the feeble form of a human looking body, Deb Demure aims to serve as a musical and visual medium marrying the void and the form.
The name Kontravoid belongs on a limited run cassette circa 1980-something, the type of tape buried in lost upstate dustbins of pre-MIDI analog electronics, wedged between Cabaret Voltaire and Das Ding. The dark industrial and new wave influences are strong on ex-Crystal Castles drummer Cam Findlay’s new project—his voice is scary, like an echoing underwater growl—but the underlying pop melodies always afford a degree of breathing room.
After departing as writer/producer for Toronto band Parallels, Findlay has settled into a music venture he can call his own, assuming the identity of this masked alter-ego for what appears to be a permanent ride.
On his debut self-titled album, Kontravoid turns to analogue synths to create a dark, brooding pop masterpiece. His brilliant vocals emit a dystopic low-grown, often running through warped effects accompanied by exceptionally stirring arpeggiated synths and washes of sound. Modern touchstones could parallel the likes of John Maus or Trust, but Kontravoid’s vision is a much more twisted one, embracing goth influences and yielding a monstrous result that is harder to define. Despite its sonic vampiricism, Kontravoid’s music leaves plenty to dance and lose your mind to, but the imagination here goes way beyond these activities exclusively.
Native to the Philadelphia region, Remote Control is a species of the Blue Wave family. The body of Remote Control is divided into three distinct parts, each uniquely formed to aid in its unusual mating call; and thusly its proliferation and continued survival in the harsh environs of its natural habitat. Its distribution continues to become more widespread, but it can often be spotted in Western Philadelphia. Remote Control’s coloration varies according to season, but tends to be predominantly dark. It is nocturnal and almost entirely herbivorous, but when necessary will feed on whatever it can capture and devour whole. As a species of the Blue Wave family, Remote Control’s behavior is docile unless provoked, with the exception of it’s mating ritual which reaches loud volumes and involves an elaborate dance where the participants appear as though they are weeping.
531 North 12th St.
Philadelphia, PA, 19123