I get a little misty-eyed when a totally empty room at about 8pm suddenly transforms into a happening gathering by about 10, all in the name of seeing some virtual unknowns make a hell of a racket. From being the sole punter, trying to raise the barkeeper’s hopes, I was soon happily engulfed by an impressive cross-section of folk who simply needed a reason to dance. Jolly good stuff.
Continue reading “Prickle; Kerb; Tucker Bs; Freud’s Pillow, MX, July 13, 1996”
