So cries Elizabeth Clare Prophet, spirit channel and avatar of the Church Universal and Triumphant as she calls upon all the gods and goddesses in existence to grant her beloved victory. Her mission? To destroy The Beast and the Dragon That Gave It Power. The Dragon is rock'n'roll, its power the syncopated rhythm of the fallen ones and the misuse of the four-four time.
I suspect that through her prayers, and those of her followers, Elizabeth Clare Prophet has unwittingly given birth to Guapo.
Guapo is a force of nature; an infinitely expanding climax, a controlled catastrophe, a sun forged in sound. It can be shaped, controlled, even tamed; but the strain of trying to contain it is etched into the contorted faces and flailing limbs of those brave and foolish men who take it upon themselves to do so.
Exposed to Guapo in a confined space, members of an audience will tend to do one of two things. Some will immediately seek the nearest exit, while those left behind turn to face the music, transfixed like prey engulfed in a tiger's roar.
How long is a climax? "How long have you got?", replies Guapo, cymbal eyes smiling. Behold The Dragon That Gives Us Power! Behold Guapo!