At the family home at the weekend my brother unearthed a 1970s Adidas bag of mine, stuffed full of variosity, including my Dad's WWII film developing tanks, including 2"x3" contact frames; a late 1960s puncture repair kit, including French Chalk, a small white crayon and the little piece of sandpaper; a "Tommy" souvenir T-Shirt (1975), and ultimately, stuck in the pocket, this back stage pass from 1983, for Kid Creole.I remember two things from that night.
a) It was one of the few gigs that I went to when EVERYONE danced; it was infectious and wonderful.
&
b) The arse on the girl in front of me. It was quite the best. I think the fact that I remember her arse twenty years later pays testament to it's unchallengable quality.
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