It has been heavy with the smoke machine today. Anger is the dubious luxury
of others. Two random thoughts from the random head, but the eyes see
beauty again & everything falls into a rhythm that generates something good
ever time I dance to it. White socks pumping visual beats out’ve the corner of an eye.
It’s not a youth thing or an Essex thing it’s about the rhythm, the pulse of the feat
as they move around down there. If I was in Berlin tomorrow I’d go see the Necks.
A band of great musicians whom I have had the privilege of playing with & hope to
again, again, again..