The 13th Life

A coin spins, fatefully. From a synthesizer escapes a single errie note. It is vaporous at first, then more substantial, and finally piercingly poignant. The note falls then rises like a spectre in the mist. A startled woman runs towards centre stage, almost expiring with - what is it? Fear? Desire? "Mabuse!" she gasps, incredulous, her mouth and eyes wide, transfixed by something beyond language. Another female, calmly possessed, wonders aloud: "Why does it hurt when my heart misses the beat?"

Suddenly, there is an explosion of drums, followed by a series of chilling, lush synth-chords. From the wings emerges an enigmatic, hooded figure, all claws, fangs and sockets where eyes should be, freeze-drying the senses with the words, uttered in Euro-mangled English, "The man without shadow promises you the world. Tell him your dreams - and fanatical needs! He's buying them all. With cash..."

The scene is straight out of Fritz Lang, with all the diabolical dread of the original 'Nosferatu'. Tangibly intense yet perversely thrilling. Barely 40 seconds in and the world is a riot of black and white and blood red. By the time the Greek Chorus shrilly pleads, "Sell him your soul! Never look back!" you are entranced, spellbound by the ziggurat-beat, awed by the towering edifice of sound. It is a sound created by a group of musicians from Dusseldorf, and enhanced in a recording studio in West London by a magician called Horn...

...The exploitation of all possible sensations. Noise and girls come out to play. Sheer brutal beauty.

Text: Paul Lester; excerpts from Propaganda's Outside World