SNAPLINE's First Hong Kong Show——Beijing Explosion 2
A taut bass, a jagged guitar, a cold and urgent voice; the insistent nervous rhythm of a drum loop: the nocturnal heartbeat of a particular kind of person. Maybe you know him; maybe you are her. He is the guy you see sometimes at the bar, one leg shaking to the music but with something holding him back, until at the end of the night he lets go with such abandon that it upsets the tasteful hipster decorum of the place; she is the passive, frustrated wallflower throwing off sparks, the one who no-one would suspect gets her kicks by writing love letters to basement killers doing life without parole. They would be perfect together, only they will never meet. The closest they will come is within the music, alone but defiant, called out against their will to dance again on life's Snapline. --Rob
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