Signposts Underground: February 2026
As this magazine’s token non-punk contributor, I understand my particular niche doesn’t necessarily line up with that of my audience. But if punk represents anything, surely it’s nonconformity? And what conforms less to expectations than hijacking an ostensibly punk rock-themed magazine’s website to tell you about Japanese tap dancing?
Editor’s note: In Spite Magazine is not punk-themed. It’s a semi-open forum, music-heavy, artist and journalist cooperative that just happens to lean punk because punks love their bands and are willing to work for free. And sorry, 1MU, you are not the only one covering non-punk territory. YS Kim files travel pieces. What is punk about Easter Island or Momma Kims Koren Cowboy bar? Niyaz Pirani covers Coachella and bands like King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard and Nine Inch Nails. Phil Thorns, punk as they come, will turn around and cover Lucca Mae, Minds Idle, or the Chinese Heritage Festival without blinking. And of course, our beloved Unknown Security Guards make appearances too. I could go on.
But you are the only Theremin-themed writer we have, and we hold that in the highest regard. So on with the Japanese tap dancing.
Extreme tap dance
I have no regrets about my 2025 trip to Japan. But if I did, missing out on a live performance by REONA—teacher, choreographer, designer, and pioneer of extreme tap dancing—would be one.
In a world of po-faced academic sound artists staring at laptops and modular synthesizers, Tokyo’s Reona is a breath of fresh air, making a joyful, absurdist spectacle of herself—arms flailing, head twitching, legs uncontrollable as they move a thousand miles an hour atop wood and amplified metal, providing percussive accompaniment to electronic musicians and jazz ensembles. Unlike much of the Japanese underground, which seems content to remain on the island, REONA has made some waves through viral clips on social media, which see her dancing not merely on stages but in scrap heaps and among active industrial machinery. Such clips have taken her to Canada (and the country to its south), and it feels like it’s only a matter of time before she travels even further. Maybe even to Europe? (hint hint)
What sets REONA apart? What she does is fun, in a way that often deeply pretentious experimental music completely fails. She gives performances audiences might actually enjoy—an aspect many might do well to consider.
For the casual observer, clicking “follow” on her Instagram account is essential (that is, as essential as anything to do with Meta is in 2026). For those looking to go deeper down the rabbit hole, 2 studio albums from 2023 showcase the jazzier side of her repertoire on Bandcamp, while a noisier live show has surfaced on CD. For a longer audiovisual experience than Instagram can provide, 2 long-form videos are for sale digitally, including a terrific clip that sees her making a complete racket on top of a metal roof. But for true stans, her web store offers branded towels.
ATV’s “punk bonanza”
Even during the height of the punk rock they championed through the seminal Sniffin’ Glue zine, Alternative TV and frontman Mark Perry were already moving quickly towards something far more avant-garde. Pioneers of post-punk, they were keen to explore industrial, free jazz, techno, and the outer fringes of sound and noise, which they continue to do up to the present day. But for one night last month in Bristol, however, they partied like it was 1979.
Billed as a “punk bonanza” and opened in fine style by Bristol punk legends Social Security, Perry returned firmly to his musical roots for a rare celebration of the group’s earliest work. The centerpiece of the set was what he called,“the ‘Image Has Cracked’ suite”—5 songs straddling the middle of the LP, starting with their cover of Frank Zappa’s heavy metal prototype ‘Why Don’tcha Do Me Right?’, through to the extended psychedelic trip of ‘Nasty Little Lonely.' Other early singles, including those co-written with founding member Alex Fergusson (missing from this lineup, alas), fill out the set, including debut ‘Love Lies Limp’ (launched with the final Sniffin’ Glue), fan-favorite singalong ‘You Bastard,' and 1981’s ‘The Ancient Rebels,' as contemporary as the setlist got.
Anyone expecting the antagonism of the live recording that opens ‘The Image Has Cracked' and 'Alternatives' might have been disappointed by the affable, good-humored turn taken by Perry and his assembled band (including his son on guitar) on stage. But while the banter may have mellowed, their sound certainly hasn’t, and the noisy dub of ‘The Body’ and close-to-progressive set closer ‘Splitting In Two’ were particular highlights for me, reminders of the extreme turns ATV have taken in the intervening 4 decades. Everything about that passing of time, not least 2023’s harsh industrial opus ‘Direct Action’, suggests that they are unlikely to tour the heritage punk festivals any time soon. But for 75 minutes, Perry seemed very happy to turn back the clock, proving that whatever sonic adventures the future may bring, he still knows how to rock.
Speaking of Zappa, Sheffield’s Tinned Meats have just released their second album on Boston, MA’s I Heart Noise. If you’re curious to find the midpoint of The Mothers of Invention, King Crimson, and Cardiacs, give ‘Kilter’ your time. South-Canadians can pick up a CD here; otherwise, go here.
The wearable empathy machine
While The Good Lady Punk Connoisseur and I were in Bristol, we took a constitutional across the city, as previously planned for 23 March 2020. (We cancelled.) Seeking shelter from the rain, we encountered the Undershed Gallery, which had just opened ‘The Everyworld,' a retrospective of artist Eden Kötting and her father, filmmaker and psycho-geographer Andrew Kötting. Having greatly enjoyed the latter’s films, ‘The Whalebone Box’ and ‘By Our Selves',’ I insisted we drop in.
We were greeted with the detritus of 25 years of artistic collaboration, cultural obsession, and family. Eden was born with Joubert syndrome, a particularly rare brain disorder manifesting itself through physical, mental and visual impairments. Nonetheless, she trained as a visual artist, and her work has been shown across the UK, notably at Tate Modern. She has also been something of a muse for her father, casting her from an early age. The remnants of all this work, including visual art, film projections, costumes, giant inflatable effigies of her grandparents, and shelves full of trinkets, fills the gallery.
At the exhibit’s heart is ‘The Tell-Tale Rooms’, a 15-minute VR 360-degree immersive experience blending 3D photography and sound with 2D animation and film. Cutting disconcertingly between a French farmhouse, an English warehouse, and Pyrenees mountaintops, the piece seems to do two things. On one level, it’s an immersive version of the materials on display in the real-life gallery space, filled with art and artifacts. On another, more profound level, it wants to demonstrate Eden’s particular neurodiverse vision. Disturbing crayon creatures, the titular “Tell-Tale heads,” float around me. Views from windows change at random. Suddenly, I shrink to the size of a Borrower. Rooms fall apart around me. All the while, half-heard snippets of dialogue envelop my ears. It is overwhelming, as well it should be. The one constant is a walking frame. Always at arm’s reach, but untouchable in the virtual world.
Done well, VR is uniquely powerful at telling stories and instantly creating empathy. (Jena Friedman might agree.) ‘The Tell-Tale Heads’ certainly stands as an extraordinary technical achievement. More importantly, it’s one of the most poignant interpretations of neurodiversity I’ve ever witnessed. While it does not, and cannot, represent every neurodiverse person, it can represent Eden. On all available evidence, it does so beautifully. It’s open until 12 April 2026, and worth at least a fiver.
For further psychogeographic adventures, my pal Mark has shared with me ‘BELLASTRA (London),' his new album with modern-classical chamber trio BELLIGHTNING, comprising 30 haunting 1-minute compositions informed by walks through the streets of London. Ralph McTell it ain’t, but highly RIYL William Basinski and accordions. Very limited CDs here.
Other signposts:
I recently learned of the death of Llyn Foulkes who, despite myriad other artistic achievements within the LA art scene, first piqued my interest as the inventor of The Machine. The Art Newspaper pays tribute.
The Firstsite gallery in Colchester, England, previously hosted a major exhibition by friend-of-In Spite Gee Vaucher. Now, artist Sue Webster has her first solo retrospective of her punk-influenced work, ‘Birth Of An Icon’. Expect CSI-level maps of punk and underground connections; hand-painted leather jackets; and raw, deeply personal self-portraiture. Free until 10 May 2026.
After many years hosting fishing-based television in Spain, Scottish electronic musician Jansky Noise released some of my favourite work of 2025 on Bandcamp.
UK shipping for this is through the roof, but that’s the only thing stopping me from experiencing ‘Scarlet Warning 666’, an insane piece of outsider filmmaking, championed by The Reverend Ivan Stang, now resurfaced thanks to Grindhouse Releasing. Only 3000 copies available. (Send me one and I’ll make it up to you x)
Remind me to tell you about The Nickel in central London. It might be my new favorite cinema.
At time of publication, I’m a few days away from a 2-week trip to Thailand. If I spot any music or art of note in either Chiang Mai or Krabi, I’ll let you know.
Is there something I should know about? Leave a comment, or get in touch with tips and bribes:
