The inebriated young man on the dancefloor turns and drops his jeans and reveals his undergarments: leopard print leggings with an alarming rip in them! I shouted, "lick, lick, lick my art tit" as he turns to his Brazilian sex kitten writhing around on the floor! Now this was no normal gig in the rock n roll escapism that we have come to know! As we stepped out of the propeller-powered plane on arrival, we were greeted by a bunch of proto-electro 'Gwendas' with a reggae rythm......how obscure, parallel universe! Our moto for the night - 'our dirty baseline will pop your bra, neon transformers will tug at your drainpipes and before you know it youll be standing naked in your garden'......I started with a suave aplomb as i strutted cocksure amongst the audience, the rest of the world needs to see this brilliance! The bassist was ice cool, both rythm and lead were super slick with an emo punk generous lashing of electro and the drummer proceeded with a percussive onslaught........the crowd was thriving, the Bonnie Tyler lookalike dancing bimbo gives up trying to work out the indie moves and gives way to a knickerless broad who is equally as inept! Nobody cares though as the alchemists of angular punk celebrate their now firmly cemented international status!! Most of us go to our graves with our music still inside of us and some of us were just born "bad to the bone"!!
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