A thing about going to a gig

Yesterday afternoon, I went to a goddaughter’s first birthday where loads of miniature humans wandered about chewing egg sandwiches and licking each other’s faces.

Then I went to Alexandra Palace for a gig where loads of slack-eyed, twenty-something adults danced in front of me, clutching their water bottles while also licking one another’s faces and hugging every five seconds. Drugs make you do all sorts of weird things. One of their group, a sweaty chap directly in front of me, wore the balloon hat above.

Anyway, the gig was excellent. It was Parov Stelar, a mainly Austrian group who play electro swing – electro music combined with an outrageous saxophonist, some terrific tromboning and a female singer who shimmied on stage like an epileptic for two hours straight last night.

‘I told a friend we were playing in London this week and he said ‘London? That’s the capital of music!” shouted Marcus the DJ at one point. He probably says that to everyone (‘Brussels! You’re the capital of music!’), but the group off their tits in front of me love it and started licking one another and hugging even more enthusiastically.

Basically, it’s the sort of jazzy music that you can’t hear without immediately shaking your hips a bit. I promise – and I speak as one who dances like a baby elephant. Google ‘Parov Stelar’ and ‘Booty Swing’ right now and you’ll see.