We always performed with panache and a lot of pan stick, not realizing that we would never scale the heights of Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet. The British music press took to us and we garnered a couple of reviews in the inky weekly paper Sounds acortesy of Betty Page and Pete Scott and a photo in I.D. magazine, posing in our local grave yard. Wonder Stories became local heroes but never made the big leagues. Our look was thrift store chic and our sound was Kraftwerk, on hire purchase. Traveling to gigs in the back of Nick’s butcher van, we arrived in frilly shirts and smelling of meat-thereby inspiring my later move to vegetarianism.
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