The old
trunk sits in the corner of the room. It creaks and cracks as I fumble with the
latch. Sound erupts from within. Excitement. Passion. Forgotten sounds of
teletext dreams from Sonoton library remixed by the likes of Revbjelde, Jung
Collective, Monoslapper, Zyklus, Jazz Spanky and Buff Plaza swirl about in a
hurricane of luminescence.
I click my
fingers to High Tension like a Smarties stuffed disco biscuit. Exhausted, I
sink to the floor and let the rhythms of a Life in the Fast lane sweep me into
a sweet tasting long exposure traffic jam. As the lights drift off into the
distance I am reminded that Big Brother is Watching You - undaunted I reach for
his enormous hands, letting him pull me into a deep and passionate swing. The
70’s Fun Pop begins and I switch between the joyous slow beats, the siren
sweeps and the groovy Scooby Doo backing band. The Moog and Brass take over, a
great accompaniment for the late 60’s crime fighting that I feel driven to engage
in. I pause for a moment at Towerstreet 17, watching the lights of the elevator
as it climbs through the smoke of the ravaged skies. But I must keep Moving Along and so I do, finding myself at the Droid rave on an abandoned space station
that orbits the forgotten and blighted sepia landscape. As I turn to leave, O’Mane begins, the melancholy ambulance turns circles around me as the Tokyo motorcycles
weave about the floor, bathed in yellow orange and blue flashes of faded neon.
Bathe in
this.
Lose
yourself in utter groove.
Now.
