Born of Italo-Celtic stock into a slowly rusting northern England in the throes of Thatcher-era de-industrialisation, the young Michele Sarto (“Mike” to those closest to him; other people just can’t pronounce the name properly) was bitten by the horror bug early. After having been “encouraged” to sit through an uncut version of Lucio Fulci’s surreal schlock masterpiece “City of the Living Dead” at the age of 6 by mischievous elder cousins, a lifelong fascination with the darker side of fiction was born.
Equally haunted and excited by aftermath images of reanimated corpses, horrific “skull-crush” kills and a young woman literally vomiting out her innards, another element of that particular production was to make an indelible impression on the young Sarto; the maestro Fabio Frizzi’s masterful synthesizer-driven score.
Check out his latest release
UK purveyor of imaginary retro horror scores, Kish Kollektiv, returns with a third studio album, “Elevator Game”, the quasi-sequel to 2018’s “Children of the Cambion”. The new release is influenced somewhat by the tragic story of Elisa Lam, a young Canadian lady who died under the most mysterious of circumstances at a supposedly haunted hotel in Los Angeles and the urban legend of the “elevator ritual” which originated in east Asia.
The Covid-19 epidemic was something that seemed to creep up on us in the UK, in spite of the extensive news coverage of the situation as it unfolded in China from around Christmas onwards. Even in today’s interconnected world, it seemed such a distant threat. There were some stories of Brits returning from the Far East being quarantined, as efforts to contain the virus’s intrusion took shape. There was some unease, but a feeling it would all be fine; after all, the Bird Flu and Swine Flu of the 2000s didn’t really amount to much after all the horror stories, did they? Then it got loose over in Europe and we looked on with increasing disquiet as Italy and Spain began to shut down; suddenly, the storm clouds seemed to be drawing scarily close.
After an incoherent week or two in which Brits defiantly – in spite of all the government urging to “social distance” – carried on as normal as the weather turned warmer (mass trips to the seaside, scorching our pasty complexions red sunbathing in public parks etc. etc.), the lockdown was implemented in earnest. Then it started to get really weird.
Suddenly, it began to become difficult to find such everyday items as toilet rolls, teabags and handwash as citizens prepared themselves for what might be an extended period of quarantine (unnecessarily as it turned out – we were never really placed under house arrest). We experienced scarcity of all manner of random products from hair clippers (as hair salons and barbers closed down temporarily) to skips (note to North Americans – a “skip” is a small waste container or debris box hired by householders when they want to dispose of a high volume of trash) as some decided to use their free time to give their home an extensive spring clean.
A Conservative government – of all things – embraced something bordering on Universal Basic Income by introducing a job retention scheme under which they would pay private sector employees 80% of their normal wage. This way employers didn’t have to lay them off when their businesses flatlined. A similar scheme for the self-employed was implemented soon after.
The thing I noticed more than anything was the empty roads – the United Kingdom’s overburdened road network is one of the busiest in the world and for several weeks the level of traffic was back to 1955 levels. Proving the old adage that “you can drive nature out with a pitchfork, but she always comes back”, animals started to become bolder, soon forgetting about the constant flow of metallic killing machines and occasionally paying a hefty price when they did encounter one of the few. Paradoxically then, there seemed to be more roadkill, not less.
Being a generally orderly and law-abiding bunch, the majority of us tried our best to follow the new rules; giving way to oncoming pedestrians when we were ourselves on foot, just like drivers; queuing for endless minutes in socially distanced lines outside supermarkets; staying indoors and refraining from unnecessary excursions. However, there was no small amount of confusion regarding the specifics of this “new normal”, particularly from law enforcement. For example, there was the strange spectacle of hikers who had travelled by car to remote rural areas being harangued from above by a police drone for their “irresponsible” behaviour. This is strange on its own, but when contrasted with footage of huge public gatherings in London’s more ethnic neighbourhoods – completely ignored by a police force presumably terrified of accusations of “racism” – it was out-and-out surreal.
As far as my music career is concerned, the lockdown didn’t affect me in the same way as it might have had Kish Kollektiv not been purely a studio project with no “live” element. I wasn’t forced to cancel gigs or tours, I didn’t miss rehearsals and I wasn’t separated from bandmates (although the latter is perhaps less of a problem these days thanks to the connective wonders of the World Wide Web). In fact, I bizarrely benefitted in some ways. Once the lockdown had been introduced, I found myself with time on my hands. I was able to complete the third Kish Kollektiv project, “Elevator Game” and also the debut release of my retro electronica side project, South Central Positronics. There was also ample opportunity for me to work on improving my editing skills for the accompanying music videos.
The underlying anxiety of this “new normal” was perhaps something I was able to channel creatively (particularly as so much of what I do is in the horror genre). At least one composition was born directly out of the current situation, “The Plague” (not on the nose at all) on the South Central Positronics release.
So, while I can’t say this has exactly been a fun time – in fact, it would have been far better if the whole thing could have been nipped in the bud in the initial stages – thanks to having the ability to retreat into musical pursuits, I was able to get through this strange time far better than would otherwise have been possible. If you’re a musician who hasn’t been so fortunate however, I do wish you the very best and hope that what has been lost can be regained as soon as possible.
Not the Usual LICK Publicist! 27 yrs in the biz ~Worldwide! Actual Peer of the Realm~Unitarian Universalist Pragmatic Buddhist~ PROUD GAY Liberal
