Begun during the whole “midnight at the Lido” period that briefly but violently inflamed London and the southeast with traveling displays of unbridled camp and carnality, Ultraterrestrials came together as a way of celebrating and cataloging a surreal meeting of the minds. It was a teacake riot. Richard had spent years honing source material and sifting shimmering dust, and Tom’s collection of battered steak knives and complimenting asteroid gases made it all seem fated that they should join farces.

Performing under various rubrics for years, it wasn’t until they joined forces with the specter Jared (who brought Napoleon’s jugged penis to the party that first night) that the Ultraterrestrials banner really began to unfurl. That was when the “events”, as they so archly called them, got markedly stranger. Of course, they recorded constantly, addictively, but it was “live” where everything really defined. If you were lucky enough to be there, you’ll remember their shows caused a huge amount of controversy in the early days: the events aboard the tug on the Thames that went almost fatally wrong, the Borstal Secondary Modern fire incident in the locked ward, the filming of the sinking of the NME under pressure, the Tate Modern thefts, and the notorious Westway – Inner Ring Road Overpass Collapse Performance Series that feels all too spooky and prescient, even after all these years. The camera angle’s static.

All of this, and more, fed into Ultraterrestrials’ mystique. Disappearing unexpectedly after that bizarre incident with David and the pig did nothing to quell rumors, or dampen sales of the already impossible-to-find releases such as the frighteningly harsh “You’re Going To Confess To Everything”, the surprisingly diaphanous and intimate “Crammed Full Of As Much Minimalism As Possible”, the ineffably bizarre “Pink Bunny Dies” singles collection released in a three-ring binder with accompanying hacksaw, and the second-hand cassette-only collection “If I Were Doing That Now I Wouldn’t Be Doing That”. After being so much a part of the cultural underpinning, suddenly they were just gone.

Except for the short film of them setting their pink bunny suits on fire somewhere out west, and the photographs of them starring as Albert Fish And The Stars, they remained off the grid. Until now.

Ultraterrestrials’ triumphant return after so long, heralded by the shows in Iceland on the icebreaker “Mountbatten II” and the Clock Tower Countdown performance for the BBC, is called AWOKE THREE TIMES IN THE NIGHT. It is perhaps the most coherent yet challenging collection of “songs” they’ve ever put out. Pandering to “the times”, AWOKE has also been recorded in a much more traditional format for the first time. Though there are a limited number (of course) of CDs available, the main place to purchase their sound is through Bandcamp because, well, as Tom says: “Heavens, darling, it’s like masks and gloves: everyone’s doing it."

Get it now before you can’t.