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 machines might be programmed, but it’s what they are programmed with - fear, anger, paranoia and bleak premonitions - that gives these dance rhythms their unsettling edge.…

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.…

Siouxsie herself looks stunning, in a high bodice with what looks like a belt of many, many strips of fine leather which reach down to her calves. They jerk and leap like electric eels as she dances...…

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.…