I recall with … not exactly amusement but perhaps something of a wry smile … the day I was out, many years ago now, doing my usual thing of looking for more music to feed my dreadful addiction … and this girl working in the place excitedly tried to persuade me of the sheer joy I would experience from a CD which was recorded live at an “illegal underground rave party.”

I was speechless — I simply didn’t know what to say.

I didn’t want to seem patronising/arrogant … and so didn’t explain that I hadn’t been to any event that wasn’t at least flirting with illegality (if not actually tag-gangbanging it senseless in one of the portaloos) in ten years ¹ and, thus, wasn’t inclined to consider a shit set good simply on the grounds that it was recorded at a squat-party (which, as it happens, is where it was recorded).

Neither did I want to offend her by laughing — which I was very nearly in danger of doing.

So, I just nodded and agreed to give it a listen.

I think she was quite offended by my lack of excitement … if not the po-faced response I made (which was all I could do, if I were not to laugh outright at her) … and wandered off quite huffily afterwards.

I didn’t want to spoil her fun or anything … clearly she was new to the scene and all excited about it … but what do you say to someone who utters the words “illegal underground rave party”?

Where do you start?

How do you even begin to explain to someone like that what is wrong with that phrase?

Ah … the sweet naïvetée of the girl — all fresh and innocent.

To my own everlasting amazement ², I actually refrained from wiping my arse with her sense of self-worth before unceremoniously dropping it in the aforementioned portaloo. I’m just too nice to people … I should really stop it — it’s not good for them, me or the rest of the World … <sigh>.

Illegal underground rave party!

I ask you!


The CD was shit as it happens … just as I had anticipated — not exactly coincidence, I don’t suppose , but I did listen to it with an open mind … hoping I might find something new to like.

¹ This is going back a few years now — perhaps fifteen or so?

² And that of the friends in whose company I was at the time ³.

³ I even saw one of them wince as she uttered the now immortal words — in anticipation of the evisceration he fully expected to follow once I had recovered my composure as much as the effect they had on him as well as me.

⁴ I was visibly taken aback by her words — they really weren’t something I ever expected to hear outside the confines of mainstream news reports on the horrific decadence of the youth of the day … let alone from someone working in the kind of place I had gone to seek out new music of the very type associated with said decadence.

⁵ I don’t think anyone capable of uttering that phrase can be relied upon when it comes to determining whether something is of quality — they’re just too naïf/naïve and excitable to be sufficiently discerning .

⁶ It’s not that I’m jaded … I still get excited by new music and love sharing it with people — which is why I’m a DJ. But when I listen, now, to what I thought was good when I first started partying, I realise that my tastes were extremely unsophisticated — I was in fact, musically speaking, horribly naïf.



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Where Angels Fear

Where Angels Fear


There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.