by LATEEF MARTIN

"We found NWAR in an alleyway, broken and slicked with grime," explain the symbiotic pair of Christine LaFontaine and Martin King. "We took it home, put it in our basement and started feeding it - and periodically electrocuting it. It's grown since then, and we had to put a lock on the door. We used to have two cats, but somehow now we only have one."

Like a ghost lost between digital static and analog confusion, LaFontaine wails on guitar, operatics shooting from her tortured throat. Deep in the tangle of wires, TR-808s, effects pedals, reel-to-reels, Tibetan singing bowls, baby monitors, sound generators, keytars and bottles of Jägermeister is King, twisting and tweaking the nipples in your brain.

"There's no concept, conflict resolution, letting the static, hum and hiss out to play. Staying on top, but letting things get out of control - actually, most of the time, it seems like we're just a concept that the machines are having."

NWAR raised eyebrows at the Fringe fest this past summer, a prequel for their first event, Art Bizarre at the Mile End Cultural Centre. The duo provided the soundtrack to a death-parade fashion show before Shalabi Effect and the Desert Fathers finished the survivors off.

"This year, we plan to wreak havoc as much as possible. Create some enemies, maybe take the show on the road, break some laws, compete on Canadian Idol. Sell off all the gear and live off the land for a while - you know, stock up on canned goods, weapons, fuel, medicine, contraceptives and other supplies for the coming apocalypse. That, or just keep playing shows - the next one will be the end of January - and making noise."