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I saw Thighpaulsandra supporting Acid Mothers Temple in Gloucester last year, and can report as follows;
You perhaps shouldn't go and see him, because his music is for the most part an enormous, seemingly endless heap of malodourus Rick Wakeman-esque egotistical prog lunacy, interspersed with lengthy passages of ominous ambient gloom and occasional explosions of camp glam rock, and lyrics which seem to dwell rather heavily on the subject of masturbation.
But then, on the other hand, maybe you should go and see him, because he keeps the stage covered with more dry ice than is strictly sensible, dresses like the Black Guardian out of Dr. Who and his band consists of two extremely tall men(?) in bright red ceremonial yashmaks and two nubile boys in gold swimming trunks and Egyptian body-paint. And lyrics which seem to dwell rather heavily on the subject of masturbation.
So, the choice as they say, is yours. |
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