When it was released in 1996, 30 years ago, Zoon found me at a point of real darkness, not wandering through the forest darkness, but displaced from my self darkness. It was a bandage pressing against a raw and open wound. And it held that broken part of me when nothing else would. The lyrics spoke to something in me, saying I know this territory, you are not alone in it. Zoon became more than just my salve, it became my sanctuary.

There is a quality that some art possesses - you recognise it immediately. Not transgression as performance, but work that demonstrates actual sacrifice. Art that explores the conjunction of sex and death – symbolic immortality that can only be achieved through the unification of opposites.