There's some local lore that says the Liar's Club is haunted, thanks to an article Devyn shared with me. Maybe it is, though the only ghosts I ever saw there were the ones flickering through some technicolor haze. The lights poured over the Knee-Hi's like those in a haunted carnival fun house, warped and playful. No need for distorted mirrors (well, one mirror to highlight Jaime's duality) to summon the fun in that house; they conjured it straight from the stage.
When the fog crept in, the room turned cinematic, ready for any Carpenter, Romero, or Argento film.
I already shot this room in black and white. But the Knee-Hi's still demand color, and in that moment, so did the ghosts and the Liar's Club itself. These photos feel made for their kind of rock star glam, giving them a stage worthy of their swagger.
They possessed that impossible photogenic quality, all curves and angles designed to catch light, made for gilded picture frames or for velvety blacklight posters you'd pin crookedly above your bed, keeping fine company with The Runaways, the Clash, and Blondie.
Back to ghosts. Maybe the ones haunting the Liar's Club were from The Midnight Special TV show, those '70s performances where the best music of the time burned bright under studio lights. This show put me right back in that room, watching history get recorded and documented, their ghosts materializing on the stage.
There was a sly heat in the way they moved and in how they colored every second. A seductive command that had the whole room leaning in, reminding me why I still believe in the myth of rock and roll and the stars who keep it burning in technicolor.
Before the show, Alice asked if I recognized the baseball jerseys they were wearing, the same ones from a previous show and if I remembered them.
Now that, was a silly question. How can I forget? ⚾️
*This set works best in color. But black and white's still how I prefer to see, so I made sure to edit it that way too.