No Room for Mystique

🎭 No Room for Mystique

It’s June, and we’re back from our epic tour supporting Combichrist. It’s been an intense year so far, and Mish and I are both feeling grateful for a bit of breathing space to recover after this huge experience.

Right now, I’m living in a shepherd’s hut, which is pushing me toward a much simpler lifestyle—still an upgrade from van life! I’m also on the verge of a big life change (more on that next time) and feeling very much in flow.

We’re actually getting quite good at touring—not just surviving it, but preparing ourselves mentally and physically so we can thrive on the road. I’m especially grateful not to be heading back to a day job this time. I’ll never forget the shock of returning to work in a school after tour—it was a brutal transition.

🎤 Playing Up Close

A few months ago, we played a sold-out Hana Piranha show in Shoreditch. It was an intimate, sweat-drenched affair—about 100 people crammed into a tiny venue. The green room was visible from the stairwell, the stage barely fit the band, and there was no way to reach it except by wading through the crowd.

📸 Bryan Taylor

While the closeness created a kind of magic, it also inspired this blog’s theme: 

No Room for Mystique.

Performing that close to your audience is something you only learn to navigate with experience. There’s no hiding. Every expression, mistake, breath—it’s all laid bare. But that rawness can be electric. It forces a different kind of performance—one based on connection rather than spectacle.

🎭 The Artist, Unmasked

There’s a deeper layer to this idea. The lack of mystique isn’t just about small stages—it’s the new normal for artists today. We exist in constant proximity to our audiences, especially online. People want to see behind the curtain, and you have to decide what you’re willing to share.

Not everyone handles this the same way. Mish, for example, is wonderfully open with her fans, which has created a real sense of community around her music. That kind of transparency invites people in—and often, you get back what you give.

It’s not about revealing everything—it’s about being authentic when the mask comes off.

If you’re not comfortable showing your true self, the modern music landscape can be tough. The trick is learning how to be vulnerable while still protecting your boundaries.

Personally, I struggle with the small talk between songs. On bigger stages, everything’s choreographed—you don’t need to improvise much. But in small venues, spontaneity becomes essential. That’s where I’m grateful for bandmates who can jump in with banter when I freeze up.

🔥 Drama + Intimacy

I’ve always been drawn to mystique—in art and in life. But I’ve learned that drama and intimacy can co-exist. Like Greek theatre masks, performance lets you embody something larger than life, while still revealing something true underneath.

I saw this beautifully on the Combichrist tour. Andy (the frontman) managed to be both terrifyingly intense on stage while still radiating a warm persona. Allison from Esoterik was the same—fierce and sexy and simultaneously sweet and gentle.

It was one of the things that made the tour so great—onstage and offstage, people were sharing such honest parts of themselves.

As dark artists, when there’s nowhere to hide, even the light parts of us come out. That contrast—the interplay of shadow and light—is what makes the experience healing, for us and the audience.

Moshing through aggression, being moved to tears—it all becomes part of the same emotional release.

💓 Vulnerability Is Connection

📸 Louie London

The magic of vulnerability is that it works both ways. When you let yourself be seen, your audience feels safe to do the same. That mutual exchange is one of the most beautiful things about live performance—especially in smaller, more intimate settings.

As Andy would say: “Who wants to dance with me?” That invitation, simple as it is, makes people feel seen. That’s what we’re all chasing as artists—real human connection.

And here’s the thing: even if you’re sharing a lot, you’re never giving everything away. If you have depth, you’ll always have mystique. Vulnerability doesn’t deplete your well—it draws people into it.

❓ Question of the Week #1

What’s the gig where you felt the strongest connection with your audience?

Mish: I’ve had some amazing moments supporting The Velveteen Orchestra. Singer-songwriter sets can be incredibly raw and intimate. One that really stands out was at The Folklore Rooms in Brighton. There’s something about that venue—it’s always intimate and beautiful. During one of my songs, a girl in the front row started weeping and then gave me a hug after the set. I feel like these gigs are so intimate because my songs are real stories from my past, so they’re brutally exposing.

Hana: Learning harp opened a whole new world of intimacy for me. I remember a festival where we headlined as a full band on Friday and partied pretty hard that night. The next day I played a solo harp set—everyone was hungover and emotionally raw. Pretty much everyone was crying and I was trying not to cry while playing my sad songs! That kind of shared vulnerability is unforgettable.

❓ Question of the Week #2

What’s the hardest part about coming home from tour?

Mish: I just want to get back on the road! Tour has its own rhythm—you wake up with purpose. Coming home means trying to find motivation again. It’s like being yanked out of a dream.

Hana: I second that. On tour, life is in motion. Your biggest concern might be whether you have clean socks. It’s like being on a weird, wonderful drug. Then suddenly you're back doing laundry and answering emails.

😩 Weekly Whinge

Mish: I miss my tour hair! On the road, I just wear one outfit for weeks and don’t have to think about makeup or dressing “appropriately.” Back in normal life, I’m expected to be presentable. It’s exhausting.

Hana: Let’s be real—we were disgusting on tour. I started off in silk pyjamas but halfway through realised it was more efficient to just sleep in my clothes and head straight to catering in the morning. Sometimes I wore the same outfit for two days straight. Now that I’m back, showering daily feels like a chore.

💬 Let us know your answers to the questions of the week! 

Until next time, 

🖤 Hana & Mish