The DJ Played On...

I played a set at a free part over the bank holiday... I pulled the short straw and got a 7am slot... we drove to the ass-end of nowehere, set up the tent and the PAa and then waited for the punters to arrive

I think we had competition from the Beachdown Festival across the valley, so other than a few remaindered crusties and the couple of obligatory chav-boys with there staffs there wasn't much of a crowd at first, the music at the Festival must have shut down at 3am because by 4 the numbers had swelled and we were getting somewhere - the police were busy with the legitimate bash and the only time we were disturbed was when a group of moonlight orienteers crossed the middle of our patch - here was a rare meeting of three clans the asbo dodging bling boys, the last of the crustices and the goretex clad midnight bobba-joggers.

There was a pause... dreddlocks hovered in the air, staff held mid snarl and compases stretched in front of the orienteers ran through... eyes fixed... seeing nothing... hearing nothing... knowing that it's better not even to register the existence of that whole other world about them.

The party carried on... Dawn broke and the mist came down. Lucinda was waiting with me, as I peered over the shoulder of an intensley focused PsyTrance DJ, the crowd started to disperse, damp and tired. The trance carried on endlessly - tediously cycling and looping - he wouldn't even look at me. Soon there was only me and him, Lucinda, Josh and Russell waited at one side for a resolution to this battle of wills.

The DJ played on.

Round and round over and over - nananana - break - drum build - nanananananana - break drum build - nananananana - you know the method to that PsyTrance madness....

I wasn't sure how the others would stick around - I was about to do something - something physical - step in and stop the man physically when I friend of Josh's grabbed my camera and took the photo below.

That's me behind the man behind the platters that matter - Josh is in the parker - Lucinda the pink hood.

And that was it - the photo got taken - and Mr DJ stepped to one side - passed me the cans - and left me an empty field to entertain.

Which I of course did....

I looked over even Lucinda had wandered off - with Josh - most probably to enjoy his viarious chemical treats.

Leaving me alone. In the mist. Playing Globhop.

After a while the genreator ran out of petrol.

I shut down and we went home.