The suspect: the Boggamasta – a power-addicted megalomaniac and mystical dictator. The crime scene: a perverse Bauhaus performance, a lashing masked ball or an underground party in bloodstained Sin City tones? Twisted basses, persistent metronome drums and ominous keyboards set the tone. The Boggamasta leads his followers through a digital whorehouse of mature shadows, sensual revolving bodies and noir cool. Thick voluptuous grooves are contrasted by screeching horns. Release, feverish swamp, bacchanal, ecstatic bedlam?
Boggamasta guides, knows and keeps silent.
Sing Hallelujah. Start the worship, launch the warship.