No matter where we play or what clubs we go to, it’s difficult not to compare them to Henry’s. Yes there was often trouble outside the club but for four hours the differences between the ‘alternative’ and ‘dance’ crowds would melt away into sweaty walls, sticky floors, warm Carling XL beer with the paranoia inducing beats of Josh Winks ‘Don’t Laugh’ chasing …us around the main bar. Naked torsos, long hair, Mercury Rev, hippie chicks, scobes, bump and grind, nerds, Nick Cave, Vicks, cider, bass so hard and deep the building shook, leaking toilets, lollipops, curry, chips and peas, buckled knees, cloudy water, we are, we are, we are the Frank and Walters. Stage invasions, whistles, once white jeans muddied with dancing love, lingering hugs, back bar grooves, being allowed rub the magic bald heads of Sweat veterans, Paradise Lost, Sultans of Ping, The Golden Horde, Kerri Chandler, Fad, Fork, LTJ Bukem. Falling down the stairs, bruises, lost cloakroom tickets, Freakscene, friends, lovers, all night raves, memories forever.
Susan O Shea posted a lovely little piece on our Facebook page earlier this morning – we thought it would make a nice post… so here goes, Thanks Susan
A Tribute to Sir Henry’s – Don’t laugh