He looks gazing balefully under a web of tribal henna tattoos. His expression leaves little doubt that he is perfectly willing to use a weapon if anyone dares fuck with him. He’s looks like he's a little out of breathe, after he's been out tramping in the swamp. There is dark magic at work, here. This man knows voodoo down to his bones. A wise man would turn around and head the opposite direction as fast as his feet can take him. A wise woman, too. He's the Hermit we all fear, living somewhere in a remote corner in every town. And by the sound of the album's production, he's a prisoner of his own echo, especially when listened to with headphones. The overall sound scares you to death. This is a baroque nightmare. This is what rock and roll sounded like four hundred years ago. And it should scare you to death. After all, who knows what Jean Koning might do? It’s been almost seven months since Koning slammed down the gauntlet and set his piano afi...