That was intended to inspire a seamless groove of 12" disco remixes such as:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JWi4azIWDM&feature=PlayList&p=F250FE2AC27ADF93&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=64

Obviously, I'm the only one who considers a polyester content essential to one's suits.

I went to the Fridge once, interesting.

Ah yes, Dacron, not heard of that for a awhile.  I remember that adventure clothing company Rohan, had managed to make everything out of polymers - shirts, jackets and pants with no discernable content of organic fibres at all.  I used their stuff in the jungles of Venezuela and Ecuador, it worked.

Here's some more disco, well, almost:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQXNWHym6PY

Last edited by 4F Hepcat (2010-01-12 13:31:00)

Heaven does indeed need to be stressed more often:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zNdMc6wGtU

Never been there with a girl, but talked to a few there.  I'm no snob.

The Coleherne was (once) really girl-unfriendly out in Earl's Court. The boys would sniff & say 'Fish?' if a girl walked past...

If you worked in post-production on Wardour Street back then you went to all these places. Big B. knows.

Earlier, as a kid, I'd hang around The Vortex (outside) & The Intrepid Fox too. '76, '77 all that was. Nobody noticed or cared. Only once did the coppers came over to me and I told them I was on my way to meet my Father at EMI & they just wandered off again.  Needless to say my Papa was home in bed and never worked for EMI.

Soho was a really safe place, ditto China Town.  Scary, but safe.  A good place to run away to.

Did you ever see me?

I look like this -   http://www.mccullagh.org/db9/10d-1/anteater-statue.jpg

This is my kind of French disco. And those discerning viewers will catch a glimpse of Parisian-Ivy, an olive/brown sack and button down at 46 and 155 seconds:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_P7HSnt6TY&feature=related

Last edited by 4F Hepcat (2010-01-19 13:55:35)

When's the party at your French pad then Jimmy Baby?

If I had the money, no mortgage, kids and a wife, I would gladly relocate to Paris and continue researching my as yet unwritten film script on Chet Baker's 1955-56 extended European tour in which his best buddy, genius of the piano, Richard Twardzik OD'd on some particulary powerful H in Paris.

Last time I was in Paris, was stuck in La Defense with a prick who only wanted to snort coke, answer emails and screw the dirtiest, filthiest whores money could buy. The whole of Paris and I was stuck with this dick head.

Very funny indeed, you fucking cyper-cochiba-terrorist. Now fuck off with your cancer sticks.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-xxmXt21X_Q&feature=related