Adorno takes in a bit of Techtonics

"I fucking love Techtonics," Adorno grins. For a man only recalled to a farcical half-life through secret critical rituals, he seems strangely exuberant. "That is what it is about: artists exploring the western tradition, and finding their own voice that challenge the audience."

Of course, Adorno is being selective. During the Saturday evening performance by Thurston Moore and Dylan Nyoukis, he repeated snarled that this was "a facsimile of improvisation," accusing Moore of trading on the same guitar sound that he had developed all those years ago "when Sonic Youth were still a vital, underground proposition."

In truth, he never forgave Sonic Youth for appearing on The South Bank Show. "Lord Bragg? There's an artistic sell-out, preaching a leftist bohemian philosophy while accepting titles from the state. Let's hear it for revolutionary art, eh Melvin?"

Being an undead ghoul hasn't diminished Adorno's enthusiasm for contemporary classical music. He finds the compositions of Georg Fredrich Hass especially enchanting, since he recognises both a considerable skill in working the microtonal and a resistance to the more erudite streams of serialism.

"I am worried that you got that off Wikipedia," I say. He grins again, baring his teeth, stained with the blood he must sup to survive.

"He makes spectral music, which is bound to appeal to the undead." He sniggers. "There is a spectre haunting Europe, and it is me..."

Old Marxists never die, they just become outdated.