At a gig in a Middlesbrough art gallery, the room smells of blood. Rainbow confetti is strewn across the floor. Someone has been making music by rattling rusted springs from their dad’s sofa. Movement artist Shlinga bends and rises around tuned gardening wires; later, Finn Darrell pulls needles from their skin as loop pedal harmonies fill the air. This was a recent gig being hosted by Industrial Coast, a music label and event promoter in Teesside that has found itself at the forefront of radical English art.
Twenty-four-hour noise sets, 50p tickets and £999 digital releases are just some of the label’s unfashionable marketing techniques. Gigs happen in old shopping units or any available space, and the people on the doors are lax about entry rules. The point, I’m told, is to get open-minded people in the room.
