A haunted motherfucker - “That's what he was,” says Aylin Derjones, recording engineer of the “Beast with Horns” recording sessions.
“He'd just snap out at you, you know, like "Fuck you" and then he'd be cool, like, "Heeey how are you?" and then he'd snap with a "Fuck you" again. But it was cool, are you in the mental process of digging it? He was Dause."

His being haunted shone through in his music. Driven by whatever demons compelled him, the breakneck speed was hard for everybody to keep up with. Out of the 14 songs recorded in 5 days only two are actual compositions- the rest all manic, genius improvisations.

"Why? Why Kippfest? Why that horn?" was the question oft heard raised by critics of the time.
Obviously the cats hadn't been down with what Dause was preaching: self expression.
He felt destroyed by melody, dragged out of his own self, trampled, shamefully hidden in its filth.
"What is remembered of Beethoven- the cat himself? Or Duh Duh Duuhhm?" was his question he so frequently asked with his trademarked tense face of pure undiluted horror. And righteously so.
This monotonal instrument allowed him to claim just that back from the beast which is music: himself. What you're hearing ain't no music, no. Yeah. That's as right as straight can be, cat.
It's his soul. Dark. Powerful. Glorious.

SIDE I

1. Introduction to Madness
Kippfest: Vuvuzela, Organ, Bongos

2. Demon Poop
Kippfest: Vuvuzela, Bongos, Vocals
Mary Sue Lewis: Organ, Vocals, Guitar

3. Pleasurebones
Kippfest: Vuvuzelas, Bongos

4. You Make me So Sad
Kippfest: Vuvuzela
Mary Sue Lewis: Vocals
Aylin: Beats

5. Swamps on Fire (Honk if you're horny)
Kippfest: Vuvuzela, Bongos, Organ

6. Soul Soul
Kippfest: Vuvuzela, Bongos, Organ, Vocals

7. Long Lost Valentine of Revolving Love
Kippfest: Vuvuzela

"Yeah he had his share of demons to deal with," remembers Niko Lupu, producer of the possibly most revered Vuvuzela Jazz album of all time.
"He'd go and say "Fuck you" all the time. Randomly. Darksided. But some of them demons, they was the good kind... You know? Perfection. Whether by getting that perfect sound by recording his horn from within a toilet pot at one in the night, or with every damned note being sculpted in to what he wanted it to be. Everything on that album, rest assured, was his pure, total and committed intention."

Who else to aid him in that quest for perfection than the exquisite Mary Sue Lewis Orchestra?
No slouch herself on the vuvuzela (she weren't called Mary Sue "The Dying Balloon" on account of her pretty eyes, that's for sure) - listen to her play "Discomfort in C Major" like the titanic perishing while giving birth to a moon-sized bumblebee. That's Mary Sue.
She was mainly brought on board though for her amazing vocal and organ playing skills, also all improvised for but one track.
How they did it - No one knows. I guess it's just that once-in-a-lifetime passing by like ships in the night of Magic, Passion and commitment and having them copulate till the break of dawn. That's what this record means to me.

Jazz is the notes in between what you're hearing, it's said.
“He played all those notes you normally wouldn't hear,” says Mary Sue Lewis.
And that's what he did. He turned it inside out, cut it open and showed you the guts, and you would revel in it's beauty, and bathe in it, use it's blood as warpaint and hunt, you would hunt for more jazz and kill it, kill it dead, and dance in it, yes, dance, DANCE. DANCE. DANCE.