“My dreams are a stupid refuge, like an umbrella against a thunderbolt.” A sickly day, humid, grey, blurry visions throbbing in the heat. A Ryanair flight, escape, promise. Sky close, running aground short of breath, swimming shorts, suncream, Chuck Berry. Is it better to dream than to be? “I wasn’t meant for reality, but life came and found me.” Planet Nine looks like a volcanic crater of thickened fog and frenzied awakenings. A demystifying trip of intrigue at the edge of the cosmos, a powerful piece of theatre fusing sound, dance, film, romance, and a hapless hero called King.

“An uncompromising and singular songwriter.”The Last Mixed Tape