Freshly returned from her travels, we thought we'd throw Emily in at the deep end with a date at the Seduced exhibition at the Barbican, where Rhiannon Armstrong was revealing her darkest secrets to all and sundry. An appropriately intimate setting for a date with Glaswegian electro-punkrockers Shitdisco, or so we thought...

“IF YOU’RE HERE FOR A QUICKIE COME THIS WAY PLEASE.”

The two boys I’m with quickly turn to watch as a tall blond woman ushers people through to another room.

“Are we not here for a quickie then?”, Darren asks hopefully.

“No”, I reply with (feigned) disgust.

I have arrived at the Barbican to have performance artist Rhiannon Armstrong tell us her secrets. It’s the Everything You Ever Wanted to Say But Didn’t exhibition and with me are two ex-art-school-turned-new-rave-rockers – Darren and Joel from Shitdisco. The performance is part of the Seduced exhibition so we have a look round while we wait for the performance to start. Now I’m not adverse to the odd naughty picture but when you have only just met people it can be a bit embarrassing. I keep my comments to a minimum.

“Wow look at the size of that.”

“How do they do that?” (My head turns)

“Gosh that looks painful.”

By the time we get called in to see Rhiannon I am slightly traumatised and have given the boys the impression I am a complete prude (which, of course, I am). I go through and sit on a basket, where I am kindly offered a chalice of Lambrini.

Despite the cat piss, Emily seem to be taking this 'sex as art' worse than our Vicar

Rhiannon is sitting below me in a wedding dress. She stares into my eyes. Candles flicker around us. I feel as though I’m in a 70’s porno and this is about to go a bit wrong (or right depending how you look at things). She whispers up at me.

“I don’t love you anymore.”

I nod and thank her for honesty, then leave the room. I’m not really sure how I feel about a stranger telling me they no longer love me. But it did piss me off slightly.

Darren of Shitdisco seems less worried about the wine and buxom wench knelt before him however

Thusly miffed, I hook arms with the boys and march them off to the nearest pub to get a bit more familiar (and have a bit of a flirt to boost my self-esteem after that uncalled-for rejection).

Me: “So do you guys have any secrets?”

Darren: “None we can tell you.”

Me: “WHY?”

Darren: “Cos they involve illegal stuff.”

Me: “Just change it a bit.”

Darren: “Er…ok. Once I talked our manager into giving me the whole cheque we got from a gig and promised I’d get it back to him the next day as we needed it for the road. With it I brought 100 er…pieces of cake (I have absolutely no idea what he means) (Ed – perhaps a Brass Eye reference?). I completely meant to give the money back with the money I got from them... the pieces of cake. But in the end I got so fucked I gave most of the er… pieces of cake away.”

Me: “How did you get the money back?”

Joel: “By selling pieces of cake through a hedge at a festival.”



Hmmm… OK.

Despite appearances, Emily doesn't just use her expense account to booze bands into submission. That would be low.

Me: “Do you have any sex secrets?”

Joel: “I had a girlfriend who liked being punched in the face during sex.”

Me: “Did you punch her?”

Joel: “Yeah, but I wasn’t really into it. My dad’s quite adventurous. He had sex on an altar in the Vatican.”

Good work Joel’s dad.

Me: “Do you boys get up to much mischief with girls while you’re on tour?”

Joel + Darren: “Yes.”

Joel: “Do you have any sex secrets?”

Me: “No.”

Darren: “Have you ever been spit roasted?”

Me: “Don’t get any ideas.”

Inspired by the art, Darren whips out the old electric tape and gives Emily a bit of a gagging. Such a charmer.

Deciding the conversation is getting into dangerous territory I move on to more trivial matters like their music.

Me: “So, how did you guys start out?”

Joel: “We just started jamming at squat parties and it just went from there.”

Darren: “We actually live in squats at the moment.”

Me: “What, so you don’t pay rent or anything?”

Joel: “That’s why it’s called a squat… you know, squatters rights. It’s an old toilet factory.”

Me: “Do you have electricity?”

Darren: “Yeah, but no gas.”

Me: “What about hot water?”

Joel: “No.”

Me: “So how do you wash?”

Joel: “Boil a kettle.”

Nice.

I had a right old laugh with the boys from Shitdisco and look back on it fondly even though I was a bit drunk and on the way home I walked into a lamp post (I’m not joking)

I have since been told that if I’ve never been to a factory party I ‘haven’t lived’ and the boys have kindly agreed to chaperone me.

Check out Shitdisco's music: www.last.fm/music/SHITDISCO

And if you'd like to learn Rhiannon Armstrong's secrets, testimonies and confessions from the International Archive of Things Left Unsaid, then your last chance is Thu 24 Jan @ 6.30

Every Thursday for the duration of the Seduced exhibition there will be After Hours events, such as artist commissions, live music and erotic readings in association with the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, talks and events, cocktails and aphrodisiac snacks. For full details visit www.barbican.org.uk.

Admission to all events is free to same day ticket holders unless otherwise stated.