From time immemorial these musicians have stood at the gateway of nonsense begging peanuts. Spending most of their time trapped in force fields and vortices, occasionally they are released to stalk the streets of Leeds. On such occasions you might hear the plaintive cry of Sam’s tuba, the mournful crow of Dean’s ukulele, the excited jazzy croaking of Bob’s piano or the purr of Matty’s drums. ... more