It reads:
In Goat’s dressing room, high above the Coronet theatre in London, are three sofas crammed with people from Sweden. Goatman, the mysterious mastermind behind the enrobed psychedelic dervishes, drags me outside before I can talk to them. Recalling the room later, as if piecing together the scene of a crime, I see in my mind’s eye what could be any rock band from Scandinavia: tall men with lustrous hair, centre-parted, and fair women, some or all of whom are members of Goat.
Their leader wants to conduct his first ever face-to-face interview (no tribal costume, no mask) in a stairwell in the bowels of the building. He leans against a wall with a bottle of beer looking uncomfortable. I sit on a step hoping he’ll join me but he doesn’t, so I’m forced to shoot my questions up at him from his feet.
Let us start with something easy. Can he tell me more about Goat’s famous costumes?
“Well, you know, they’re made of cotton. Most of them,” he says.
It’s going to be a long 18 minutes...
Read the rest here: The Guardian
Photo by jwassmuth
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