Ernest Becker quotes Sylvia Plath as saying that somewhere she names God as “King Panic”, and that Panic is fittingly King of the Grotesque.

In the beginning it was Elaine drumming, and John singing. Keith wandered past and was captured, imprisoned and made to learn, and then play, the guitar. Luckily he was a fast learner. Luckier still his friend Nick was already a bass player.

We play what music we write: rock, alt-folk, sometimes a bit jazz swampy, sometimes a bit raucous arthouse shit – left-field? Maybe. Iconoclastic? In our dreams. Sometimes we also play the songs of other people that we really like.