PRODUKTBESCHREIBUNGEN
Hidden away from prying eyes, they grew in isolation in the warm, dark comfort of a garage in Sydney's inner-west. Like a fungus they thrived in the moisture with little form and no sunlight. Slowly they multiplied. Seasons passed. Strange dissonant sounds could be heard from under the garage door, too near to be called ghostly, too rhythmic to be called noise. Clouds of mysterious transient guitar-infused screams began to trouble the neighborhood, while passers-by dropped their heads to the ground. and so it was born. The five members of TRANSAT emerged from their enclave with a new creation: Futile Mechanics. Now, in the darkest hours of the morning, Transat can be found lazing in deckchairs under the moonlight, listening with vainglory to the sounds of their song.