Following his story about ‘Ari’ from the Slits, that we published last week. Today we have the second story from legendary Music journalist Everett True‘s proposed new book ‘The Electrical Storm’ go here to fund it!
“The Venue, Victoria, 1982” by Everett True
From the first note, we know.
Immediately, our legs are a blur of failed kicks and truncated leaps. Immediately, our heads are bobbing and weaving about. Thirty seconds in, a feeling of sheer disbelief overwhelms me – and Geoff too, I imagine. I can’t believe the rest of the world is moving so slow, so static. Why are these people gaping at us? Why the invisible barrier between our sweet dancing feet and the rest of the venue? Can’t they hear those righteous blasts of brass coming from the stage, that build-up and welter of emotion, the inclement guitars, the straining plaintive voice? Aren’t they witness to the same frantic busy but not wasteful drumming, that stand-up bass being slapped because…damn, that stand-up bass has clearly been very naughty some time in its life. CAN’T THEY FEEL THE BEAT?
From the first note, we know.
The fact the song speeds up randomly towards 30 seconds of beyond endurance dancing only spurs us further. We’re dancing too hard to care. From the first note, the first beat…we can’t stop ourselves. We can’t help ourselves. This, a whirling dervish of a dance through the firmament of rock. This, a too-heady whirl with its full-on post-punk turbulence and brutal jazz rhythm. This, an electric charge – the electrical storm – through mood-swing after mood-swing after mood-swing.
We’re not even here to see this fucking band. We have no idea who they are.
We’re here to see our favourite band, the headliners – with their manic eruptions of noise and brutality, shows constantly on the verge of falling apart, you never know what’s going to happen next, but you know you got to keep moving…and we can’t stay, there’s no point, there’s no following that, no one can, not even the best fucking band in the world. So we walk straight out the moment they finish, the brass and jazz rhythms dancing around inside our heads in multi-coloured explosions, arms and legs flailing uncontrollably.
We don’t look back.
More info here: http://rejectedunknown.tumblr.com/ and here: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/the-electrical-storm/x/12318479#
