Being an avid fan of post-civilisation noiseniks Killing Joke, it was only natural that the semi-autobiographical tome from their lead visionary, Jaz Coleman, would wind up in my possession (and in turn, I in its possession).
Having spent over thirty years fronting a cross between an influential post-punk British institution and a secret society, as well as doggedly pursuing his own ideas of spiritual destiny, it was perhaps inevitable that a life built of up a thousand interesting stories would make for a fascinating one written down.
It's the exact kind of work you'd hope for from Coleman: Robert Anton Wilson's Cosmic Trigger with sprinkles of The Dirt-esque rock n' roll insights. The man warns that readers hoping for a straightforward (not a word ever associated with Killing Joke) rock n' roll autobiography are to be disappointed, as the book's focus is more towards Coleman's personal spiritual journey.
Yet, KJ fans will still lap up fascinating recollections of recording in Berlin during the cold war, inter-band fracas, science-fiction-esque individuals and drugs, drugs, drugs, all seen as they are through Coleman's kaleidoscopic self-effacing eyes. These flashes of memories contribute in no small ways towards illuminating the backstory of a band most deserving of insight, as their story trumps most for eye-popping revelations.
For the occultly uninitiated, Coleman's casual referrals to such things as the Quabbalah and Gematria may prove either baffling or enlightening, spring-boarding them into new territories (or in my personal case, re-igniting some research desires) as his story weaves on.
It all points to one undeniable fact: Killing Joke are, simply, the most interesting band of all time. There is something to them that far transcends the music, and Letters From Cythera lends some semblance of understanding to this beast directly from the figure at its still-beating heart.
