Ahead of their sold-out 50th anniversary celebration at Sensoria Festival, we joined Cabaret Voltaire’s Stephen Mallinder and Chris Watson for a ‘Candide’ chat.
Fifty years ago, Cabaret Voltaire stunned the Sheffield Students’ Union Refectory with a chaotic night of experimentation that the ‘70s students in attendence weren’t prepared for (or particularly appreciative of). Now, five decades on, the Sheffield electronic institution’s two surviving members, Stephen Mallinder and Chris Watson, can reflect fondly on a show that was never really intended for anyone outside the group themselves.
“The audience weren’t significant,” says Chris Watson. “It didn’t really matter who was there, to be honest. The fact was that we were there doing this live set – that was the interesting, exciting thing. We were doing it for ourselves.”
“Honestly, we were there under false pretences,” Stephen Mallinder adds, laughing. “The poster sort of inferred we were a disco pop or rock band – it wasn’t advertised as experimental at all. So people turned up expecting disco and were like, what the fuck is this?”
Despite the inflammatory atmosphere at their debut show, remembered by both as more of a rugby club crowd of engineering students than a hotbed of radicalism, the 1975 gig marked the beginning of something entirely new. “It went very badly wrong,” says Watson, “but that was the best part about it. That’s what we were about. Cabaret Voltaire were always interested in what was unpopular and exploring that.”
They hadn’t even planned on becoming a band in the traditional sense. They were artists and provocateurs, drawn together by a shared interest in music, tape loops, film, art and the countercultural spirit of Dada. “We could have been sculptors or poets or filmmakers,” says Watson. “But in Sheffield at that time, music was the most immediate way of expressing ourselves.”
“We didn’t even know if we were going to do any more gigs,” Mallinder adds. “It was about provocation, about challenging people. The idea of becoming a ‘band’ wasn’t really the goal.”
At the time, Sheffield was not known for its live music culture. “There wasn’t much of anything. A few free gigs in Weston Park, but that was about it. There wasn’t a scene,” says Mallinder. “If you grew up in Manchester or Liverpool, you were almost automatically part of some music tradition. In Sheffield, we were just on our own.”
And yet, that isolation helped shape them. The city’s post-industrial landscape and South Yorkshire’s socialist spirit bled into the band’s output. “You reflect the environment you’re in,” Mallinder explains. “It was a hard city. It wasn’t conscious, but I think that sound, that intensity, got into our molecules. At the same time, we were also trying to transcend it – reaching out to things like science fiction, outer space and the future. It was this weird synergy between bricks and mortar and deep space.”
Their influence is everywhere – even if, as Mallinder puts it, they’ve often been like a “watermark on the city – something you can’t always see, but it’s there in the sound.” From The Human League, Arctic Monkeys and Jarvis Cocker to Warp Records and working-class kids buying their first synths, Cabaret Voltaire’s legacy is undeniable. “I was just with Pete from Saint Etienne,” Mallinder recalls, “and he told me the first record he bought was Sluggin’ for Jesus. It’s funny how these things ripple out.”
It’s not just about influence, though – it’s about access. “For me, it was about finding a way in,” Watson says. “We were working class lads and music gave us a way to reach people. We weren’t part of any industry. We had to make our own tools, our own spaces. That was the appeal.”
Cabaret Voltaire helped rewrite the rules, showing that music didn’t need to be polished or industry-approved. “We showed people you could use the tools around you,” Mallinder says. “We worked in a loft, built our own studios, ran our own labels. That’san important legacy – we empowered people to make things on their own terms.”
As Mallinder puts it, “Throw the instruction manual in the bin and figure it out yourself. That’s what we did.”
The upcoming anniversary show has been shaped not only by nostalgia, but by loss. Following the death of fellow founding member Richard H. Kirk in 2021 – who had continued to perform under the Cabaret Voltaire name – Mallinder and Watson began revisiting their early work. It was, Mallinder admits, an emotional process. “Richard runs through all of this,” he says. “We wanted to do something that includes him. This is Richard’s stuff – he’s here with us.”
Choosing to stage the show with Sensoria made perfect sense as the relationship runs deep (notwithstanding the obvious loan of the festival’s name from the band’s back-catalogue) both Mallinder and Watson have worked with the festival for years on talks and shows and they now help lead its creative direction as Patrons. “It just felt right,” says Watson. “Joe and Nigel do a great job with it – it’s about ideas, experimentation, collaboration. It’s not a commercial thing. That’s exactly the kind of environment Cabaret Voltaire belongs in.”
The show itself will span the breadth of the band’s career, from their first EP to the later Chicago material, with new visuals and a tribute piece called Tinsley, created by Watson. “We’re not trying to reinvent The Cabs,” says Mallinder. “We want to stay truthful to the original material – but it’s still a live show, and that gives it a different energy.”
That energy, remarkably, still echoes the spirit of that first gig, 50 years ago. “In a funny way, the way we started – it was always just, ‘let’s have a go and see what happens,’” Mallinder says. “And that’s still what we’re doing.”
Cabaret Voltaire’s 50th anniversary show takes place at Forge Warehouse on 25 October, presented by Sensoria Festival. You can check out the full Sensoria programme of events here at sensoria.org.uk.
