He’s probably lost some of the casual Soft Cell fans for whom his immersion in drug culture and S&M dungeons is a bit too dark. Indeed I’d venture that for the vast majority of devotees here tonight, their only encounter with opium has been from a perfume bottle.…

In his Aviator shades, leather trousers and crushed velvet jacket, with his mysterious tales of anacondas and reptile houses, he’s every inch the magnetic, local lizard king. A Morrison’s Jim Morrison if you will.…

Their sound eddies and flows like the ocean tides and currents, from Lake Victoria in the heart of ancient Africa to their home on the shores of Lake Michigan.…

The start of our pressing interrogation of sound and the space around it. The nods and the glances between us, the blinks and winks, as we search for a kind of musical neutral buoyancy, where we become immersed in the current that pushes our wave of noise towards the audience.…

Bloody hell this band is tight. Tight like the rivets on a supersonic rocket ship. Tight like the barrel that the old crazy lady went over Niagara Falls in, tumbling through the tumult to emerge shaken but smiling.…

This Icelandic saga played out in the music weeklies throughout the spring and summer of last year. A gripping tale of escape, exile, brotherhood and betrayal, like Puzo with puffins.…