IT WAS a relief frankly to reach the House Tent a short time later,
with its billowy white roof and canary lights and groovy tunes and steaming people smelling of wet wool. The floor the same mud as outside, but there were wood walkways for the lucky, and it was dry and warm.
I wormed my way into the centre; I set to stay for a while; the ecstasy - pure goofed goodness - unfurled, low to high. It fed my sympathy for the truehearted crowd; coordinated my harmony with the fine set DJ Me and Andy Greenman spun.
One tune after another that had the congregation consumed, Black Panthering their hands and stamping their feet, joyous suppliants riding the sound as it grew into its apogee, into bass and hi-hats and a mad wheeling piano-line
- well alright - sleek vocals - you squares - and that bass line - we got to get together - and that swinging piano - make it better - perfect - make it all good - hooking - its time to put up - and we’re on-board - or shut up - we’re hungry - to make a change somehow - accelerating - a change someway - give us that funk - time to move on - that sideways shake of our heads - groove on - give us it All because, because - GOD MADE ME PHUNKY - spotlights on the blaze - yeaaaaah - and oh yeah, fuck yeah! Haha yeah, yeah, yeah!
And the track is ringing and everyone is singing and everyone is reeling and everyone is young and everyone is beautiful and man is good, no, man is great, and we’re going to change the world, brothers and sisters, we’re next, our future, our century, and we’re going to change the m-o-t-h-e-r-f-u-c-k-i-n-g worrrrlllld.
For hours I stayed, kindled. And when next I thought to venture outside the rain had slackened to a drizzle and predawn leeched the dark. I swayed in the brisk nothingness that had come with its singular wet-before-sun smell.
I was becalmed now, empty and falling. So this was the first day of the twenty-first century, I thought. The first of the third millennium. I idly wondered if the world had survived, and didn’t much care the answer.
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