Virtual band • AI-generated music. Cyber-glam punk from England: distorted power chords, synthetic arpeggiators, mechanical drums, and vocoder-heavy British vocals that bite. Three lads, one neon roar.
Three boys who grew up on seaside arcades, machine shops, and steel-city start-ups—then welded it all into music.
Jack “Tin Can” Mercer (Brighton), James “Muha” Talbot (Stockport), and Thomas “Caroline” Carroll (Sheffield) fuse
punk guitars, mechanical drums, and synth arpeggiators into chrome-lit anthems. Voices are unmistakably British:
Sussex steel, Mancunian bite, and a gentle Sheffield lilt.
Note: Casual Anarchy is a virtual band; performances are AI-generated and artist-directed.
Brighton baritone with an ice-blond undercut and mirror-chrome Jaguar. Vocoder collar adds a synthetic shimmer to his Sussex grit. Goldsmiths audio grad; quit a major-label internship after being told to write “algorithm-friendly” hooks.
Stockport machinist’s son with a copper buzz-cut. Hybrid kit: carbon-fibre shells, LED rims, gyroscope cymbal halos. Once fired for swapping corporate hold-music with punk anthems. Wears it like a medal.
Sheffield coder-turned-synth-builder. Transparent acrylic keytar with a “reactor” core; holographic cape of laser-cut mylar patch-cables. Left a DSP job over anti-musician firmware lock-ins.
2019 · May — Open-mic at The Old Blue Last, Shoreditch. A power outage kills the PA; Jack sings through a pint glass while James hand-drums on a cajón. Sparks fly—figuratively and literally.
2019 · July — Thomas drops by Rough Trade East for a modular meet-up, hears a chrome-bright riff, and debates MIDI 2.0 ethics. Agreement: it depends who holds the patents.
2019 · Sept — First rehearsal under Hackney Downs rail arches. The throwaway name “Casual Anarchy” sticks after someone jokes they’re too lazy for proper insurrection.
2020 · Feb — Self-release single Neon Debris on Bandcamp with a Creative Commons license; a thumbed nose at lopsided streaming splits.
2023 · Oct — EP Algorithm Burnout bubbles up on indie charts as TikTok remixes of Thomas’s stems take off.
2025 · Apr — Turn down a cola-brand ad sync; donate the alternate fee to the Musicians’ Union legal fund.
Footnote: one old poster showed region code U-337 instead of a usual UK code. Misprint? The lads just laughed.
James’s first London snare was a borrowed saucepan clamped to a stand. It rang like a dustbin lid—and the crowd loved it. He keeps a tiny pan charm on his stick bag as a reminder.
Jack’s Sussex-martlet barcode tattoo scans as the price of a blank CD. He says it’s a joke; the scanner always beeps 3-3-7.
Thomas built the glowing “reactor core” after a parts run where the clerk asked for a “universe code” at checkout. Must’ve been a brand thing—right?
The debut LP welds punk urgency to chrome-plated synth sheen. Distorted power chords, mechanical drum patterns, vocoder-heavy leads, and gritty basslines build into neon-lit choruses. Themes: corporate doublespeak, eco-anxiety, and human-vs-algorithm friction—told with British bite.