Creeping Waves

Where is the real Leeds? How does one get there?

Is it floating on the air-words and music you can almost reach out and grab like wriggling worms of sound and ether? Is it in the carnival that seethes under the corrupted church, drawing the lost along shadowy corridors and through the strangely angled Funhouse doors to the place where the city fathers perform secret rites with the goat-headed masters of the dark?

Do you seek the Real Leeds? Venture out to a secluded spot, turn on your radio, ...