Kate Bush

A treat to one's sonic palette.  A deity with Luciferian wings, lyrics wormholed with left field references, full of  dark emblems and quasi alchemical clues, she trills aetherial flight, but stays  invisible, the power of never spelling things out, her Wuthering Heights with eerie copses of the landscape, her  intemperate dreaming, she is a cocktail of otherness.

source London Review of Books

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