Vincent Price: These were all people who were sort of wandering around with no focus.
Lucas Abela: I had this graveyard shift where I’d started chopping records up and building my own modified decks.
Price: People just didn’t know.
Abela: Not that I can remember.
Price: It was the beginning of the war.
Abela: But that was before the glass.
Price: Everything was volunteer.
Abela: One night I looked at my face in the mirror somewhere in Austria and there were all these nicks and cuts on my face and I thought the same thing to myself: what the fuck do you do?
Price: This was the theater.
Abela: It’s a ghetto, it’s a very deep ghetto. It’s also a drug, I’m high afterwards.
Price: I really am violently American.
Abela: I’m somewhere else.
Price: Nobody knew where anything was.
Abela: The body was a wreck so I couldn’t drive it without attracting too much attention from the police.
Price: And the candy. Screen test, oh, yes. I came out and did a screen test for Gone With the Wind. And didn’t get the part unfortunately.
Abela: I never recorded, never rehearsed. So I saved up some dole cheques, maybe got a dole advance cheque, and got the Kombi CD pressed up and sent it around the world.
Price: And I was perfectly willing to be used as such. But it was fun.
Abela: One of the early turntable experiments I did, once I’d gotten rid of the decks, was attaching them to high power motors and having skewers and knives as styluses, more like a scrape percussion kind of thing.
Price: There were something like eleven Brancusis, you know, with their mounts and everything, which took up a lot of space. I can’t talk anymore.
Abela: Or sometimes I can feel it dribbling down my body.