As part of the massive, month - long PSP sponsored Outsider festival, the opulent Great Eastern Hotel's GE bar plays host to a night of electroclash shenanigans. DJ Melnyk supplies Goldfrapp and Pet Shop Boys reworkings alongside more obscure numbers to a crowd of roughly a hundred. Luminaries such as flamboyant organiser Patrick Lilley and DJ Mark Moore, an Outsider collaborator himself, congregate between bar and DJ booth. 1988 acid house / Blackpool pleasure beach glow sticks illuminate the wrists and necks of a handful of attendees, at odds with the lavish settings. The more photogenic wearers look fantastically futuristic, whilst the rest? Well...Elsewhere a cluster of genteel Goths clutching canes glide back and forth between chic hat - wearers of almost every denomination, as well as one or two carefree souls drunkenly dancing as though tonight's the office Christmas party.

Host Angie Bowie (yes, the Angie Bowie) appears just before midnight, resplendent in gold dress, for the most part shunning the limelight; though even as she merely chats to friends away from the crowd she radiates unmitigated feminine power. Soon afterwards Monsta appear onstage, flaunting their brand of electro - raunch (Renditions include strip me and crash my head through the ceiling). Whilst their enthusiasm and grit are commendable, with lots of camera phones flashing in appreciation, something seems lacking. Bischi soon follows, her sitar - infused electronic pop has won many fans and coverage; it's easy to see her career ascending. Hers is a more refined burlesque inspired performance which, whilst her popularity is already evident, hints that her best is yet to come.

The highlight, however, comes in the form of the lady dubbed 'Finland's electro princess', HK119. She and two feline female acolytes hijack the evening clad in black leotards; large wing and fin shapes worn alternately on their feet and arms transform the trio into other - worldly figures, HK wears one as a tiara, holding her slicked blonde mane in place. Tall and commanding, she looks like the Statue of Liberty's perverse alter - ego made flesh. She dominates the small stage, contorting long limbs and facial expressions, belting out guttural roars over insidious synths and demented drums as the excitable throng laps up every second. After about 15 furious minutes the three storm off stage to the biggest ovation of the night. As revelers make their way down marble stairs to the hotel exit all that can be felt in the air is the lingering buzz from HK's sudden, electrifying assault of the senses.