Friday 22nd July



The familiar smell of midnight mud recedes revealing sunlit
birdsong, tanning it’s self on the beach of a northern morning.
The dish still points to the heavens, the showers deliver hot or
cold (depending on which door you pick). Slept in a tilting bunk
with noisy A/C & a disconcerting whiff of carbon-monoxide – or was
it just a nose phantom? John Martyn as an mp3 floats me to sleep
eventually waking in that ‘should I/shouldn’t I moan’ headspace that
can only be cured by Porridge & smiles which were delivered without
asking by the local caterers sent from Heaven to lift elephants
off the morning mood. People shake my hand, stop & pass the time of
day, exchanging stories & goodvibes. Everything points towards the
light as the sound system fires up & the thrill of a night to come
filled with dancing happy faces feels real.


5 thoughts on “Friday 22nd July

  1. Ah Karl what a top night, even the rain couldn’t bring us down. Always wanted to go there so that was a joy of…. for me. How we all laughed when it started to pour soaked to the bone we just danced harder and happier.

  2. Hey Karl. My 21 year old son texted me from blue dot to say your set was possibly the best thing he’s ever seen. (And he’s seen quite a bit). Meanwhile I was in the wilds of Somerset dancing to Nylon Strung with one mad mate and my dog, following the usual Friday post pub shout of “Back to yours for Underworld and gin!”. Crossing the generations and species. Well done fella.

  3. 20 years since I first saw Underworld perform and you were even more powerful than ever. My husband said he’d never seen me so happy…face glowing in the rain and jumping about. Apparently I said it was the happiest day of my life. 🙂

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