Intergalactic ravers; practitioners of the sacred sounds of Cosmic Dross
HENGE is a band of intergalactic ravers; practitioners of the sacred sounds of Cosmic Dross – a musical form known in other parts of the universe that has, until now, never been heard on Earth.
There are no human words to adequately describe the Cosmic Dross experience, though its sound is characterised by the thundering drums of Nom – an amphibious creature from the Sirius Star System – the garment-rending bass frequencies of last surviving Venusian, Goo, and the whacked-out synths of the band’s only human, Grok. Over this instrumental framework, the band's founder, Zpor, sings of his space travels, evoking a joyous celebration of life and encouraging humans to end war, save their species and colonise space.
HENGE will give Cosmic Dross its dawning moment on your planet as they introduce the human species to this alien genre…. This is their debut album: ’Attention Earth!’. From meditations on Earth’s own heavenly body (‘Moon’), to prophetic warnings from far away worlds (‘Machine Landscape’), and even an ode to the spacecraft that transported HENGE across time and space to the Milky Way (‘Mushroom One’); ’Attention Earth!' is a light-speed journey through otherworldly sounds, an ecstatic hymn to the wonder of life and a joyful incitement to a peaceful existence.
HENGE have come in the name of rave to spread their message of love and harmony.
They have scheduled a series of landings across the United Kingdom. These gatherings are held with the aim of provoking the proliferation of joy amongst humans... these will be close encounters of the HENGE kind.
"...a multicoloured, multi rhythmic, multiplied, multi-storey mass of total genius" - John Robb, Louder Than War
Paddy Steer is a Zelig-like character along the timeline of Manchester’s musical activity. It’s a testament to his musicality that he has played with such a wide range of music and artists over the years, be it as a bass player, drummer, Hawaiian guitarist etc. or all these roles at the same time.
In rejection of the notion of 'immaculate reproduction', live performances err more daringly and admirably on the frontier of chaotic abstraction, expression and focussed blunder, dice rolling down the hill in case of duende, as from behind his stacked array of instruments, the anarchically intrepid punk gargles through a vocoder with his xylophone, all a-clatter under disco lights and doilies.