Dear Diamanda
I still haven't recovered from your performance at Parc de la Villette . You disturbed the ether and this disturbance was bitter-sweet. The diameters of my remotest recesses expanded. Thank you for the post-audible vibrations that shook the ground under my feet. Thank you for exposing the deep shit and deep soulfulness, the burning hell of our inherent Balkanism. Thank you for raising your finger heavenwards to clear the path for the piercing yells that brought a smile to my lips. You know, I am a slow recoverer so I may dwell in the comfort of your spell for yet another while. (No one else can) Sing the blues to me. IB