Born in Russia in the Seventies, the Niallist has fond memories of the golden age when communism was at it's peak. This has informed his outlook ever since, and probably accounts for his hatred of the Western capitalist system which leaves no room for individual expression except the relentless pursuit of fame and material goods. "We may have lived in fear of the gulag, but at least our sense of community was strong, we had something tangible to believe in outside of ourselves."
His father worked for the Russian military creating advanced systems for use in sonic warfare. He was also the greatest theremin soloist the old Bloc had ever seen. While on a trip to Dublin to perform with the Irish Symphony Orchestra in 1990 the Niallist and his father learnt of the terrible tragedy that had befallen the Soviet State. Fearing for his son's (and his own) safety, the Niallist's father entrusted the care of his son to a group of monks in a remote monastry on the Connemara coast. He never saw his father again, the only reminder of him being a recording of that last concert he gave in Dublin. Though lonely, the Niallist enjoyed his time in the peaceful surroundings of the monastry, the culture of learning and abstinence, the simple devotion to a higher cause and especially the Moon-like countryside. The most enjoyment he gained, however, was in playing the huge organ that stood at the back of the monastry's church. Though he could never fully devote his mind to Christianity (a hangover of his upbringing I am sure) he respected the monks for their unerring faith. He could not stay there forever, however, and when he reached the age of eighteen he decided to leave to make his way in the "real" world.
He decided to move to London, after seeing an obscure socialist documentary about a capitalist spy ("Mr. Powers"). However, he found the attitude of the locals and the cost of living too alienating. But his time in London provided him with valuable lessons on the true nature of humanity in Western "civilsed" societies. He found only one job in his time there he could enjoy: creating a musical accompaniment to old silent films on the Wurlitzer organ of the London Palladium. Indeed, he would often lose himself in the wonderment of the music and the fantasy life being played out on screen, and have to be forcibly reminded that the Palladium had to shut every night at 12 o'clock. Fearful that they may have had a superior player in their midst, the local union of Wurlitzer players had the Niallist forcibly removed from his position after one energetic performance had encouraged some homeless people to rise up and dance in the isles. Heartbroken, the Niallist wandered the streets for days in the company of his new found friends. It was while on this lost weekend that he had his first experience of the Western vice of intoxicants. Truly, his head has never been the same since. He decided his time in London was through.
After throwing a dart at a map, he decided to move to the Scottish city of Glasgow, merely to collect his thoughts while he planned his future. Surprisingly, though, he found the people of Scotland to be most hospitable, and the city even reminded him of his Motherland in certain respects. He also discovered, quite by accident, that the current vogue for "call-centre" "telesales" positions was something he could adapt himself to easliy, due to the deep, undulating, near-hypnotic quality of his voice. He found himself most popular among the decadent, constantly aspiring world of "middle-managers".
Though it went against his deepest beliefs, he decided to earn enough money to live comfortably on when he could quit his position. After sacking said job he found that he could in fact claim social security, and live a meager but happy existence on the "bread line". With the money he had earned he decided he would build his own wurlitzer organ in his bedsit. However, the room was far to small to accomodate both him and his organ.
Quite by accident, through being curious as to construction of a large Public Address system the locals called "Mungo's Hi-Fi", the Niallist was introduced to a local artistic collective who were based in a disused building they had christened "the Chateau". Though the Niallist found some of their beliefs to be weak and naive, there was one particular group who seemed hell-bent on re-starting World War 1 that he found to be most agreeable. The Niallist was offered a space to rent in the building with another local artist named "Kepa Rasmussen", and he accepted on the strength of his studio partner's name alone. The artist has brought a strong visual element ot the work of the Niallist, and has become his trusted associate.
The Niallist decided to use the knowledge imparted to him by his dear father to create smaller musical devices powered by electrical currents and controlled by computer programmes. These machine seem to have taken on a life of their own, though how much is real and how much is delusional fantasy is open to debate. What remains certain however, is that these machines, these incredible dancing machines, are the purest, truest tools the Niallist has ever had. He has even been known to refer to them as his "family".
"Together we can work towards a higher goal, with a uniform system of belief, something I have been missing since my youth."