There are novelty acts and then there are The Kransky Sisters, three Gothic Australians who resemble Amish air hostesses in their matching floor-length black skirts. And if the look was not strange enough, they sing warped cover versions, accompanying themselves on tuba, keyboards and toilet brush.
Creeping nervously on stage Mourne, Eve and Dawn immediately set about their work with ghoulish charm and deadpan efficiency: "Mother said idle hands will wither and drop off," explains skeletal Mourne, before introducing a macabre Michael Jackson medley.
Dawn has a different father, Eve has so much repressed sexual desire she is on the cusp of self-combusting. Psycho Killer is an apt choice and a good joke. An audience member becomes a fourth Kransky. Rather him than me.
The harmonies are spot-on and their saucepan-drummed version of Eurythmics' Sweet Dreams could be a Christmas hit, yet there is something about their dark, desiccated surrealism that left me cold. The Australians in the crowd loved them, filmmaker Tim Burton would adore them but these sinister spinsters gave me the shivers.
Until Saturday. Information: 0845 120 7550. www.barbican.org.uk.
Ozmosis 07: The Kransky Sisters: Heard It On The Wireless
Barbican: The Pit
Silk Street, EC2Y 8DS
