How could I forget?
Hilda Ogden. Fantastic voice. Crackling with the intensity of a souped-up cattle prod combined with the dulcet, morose undertones reminiscent of an octopus playing the banjo with his cock out wearing a kiss me quick hat. The ethereal, nay ectoplasmic shrillness of her vocal outpourings are so angelic in nature that I almost shat my pants every time I hear it.