|
Still possessed of the
finest sorceress caterwaul in the business, Siouxsie briefly gloats and
croaks over the demise of a civilisation as her fellow statues stir up a
scattering of underground sound effects.
Meanwhile, the rest
of the world wonders where the dip and drive of 'Dazzle' has been buried,
and waits for the next earthquake. A private record, to be bought
for old times' sake, for the lupine massacre of sound on the B-side, and
for the sake of a little sanity amid the surrounding musical insipidness.
|
|