The build up had been slow and deliberate. A shave and shower and spray of deodorant. Clothing modern but with a twist of retro. Anticipation building as we made our way to the car through a damp, cold Winter night. Finding it though was a bit of problem. I hadn’t been before and it passed before we noticed. Turn the car around, arrive.
Inside was traditional. A venue that fitted its clientele. Small, dark, intimate and crowded -perfect for the occasion. The same familiar faces that I had known since I was 16. A little older, hair not quite what it used to be, but that same knowing familiarity that we all shared a love of something not from the mainstream.
Then there was the noise. Pulsating, raw but still an alternative cool. Time could not dull the noise, age irrelevant. It still managed to draw me in despite its constant repetition over the years. I’ll never tire of it, never be bored by it. Rockabilly – yes I still love you.
http://www.myspace.com/prestonrocknroll
