LIVE OIL LIGHT SHOW, ALL THE SURREAL/ACID/GARAGE FILMS, ALL THE LIGHTS, LIVE MUSIC, FLAPPER HOSTESSES, LOTS OF EXPERIMENTING WITH...…….WHATEVER YOU LIKE…….. Two steps in and I was greeted by a fifteen foot high chrome horse rearing up on its hind legs. Good job I entered straight - let’s see what the big bu**er has to say in a couple of hours when the blood gets flowing to all the right places. I
waded through the lake of soft grinning teeth and laughing eyes, and made my way down to see some art. The walls were adorned with fantastic original pieces, from intense, story drenched portraits, to luminous, Day-Glo collages of peni and barebacked women, legs akimbo. Mind blowing stuff, yet not unarrousing. Deeper in, I found myself on the edge of the dance floor. Girls and boys, men and women, ravers and rockers, all dancing, writhing, arms swirling, creating obscure shapes and projecting fantastic images through the ever changing lights. Impossible to get a lock on any one image. No choice but to ride the ecstatic wave. I spied the DJ through the soupy dance floor. A magnified image of how one would imagine the ringleader of such beautiful chaos to appear. The picture must’ve OD'd on some kind of monosodium glutamate type substance. The only answer. Long blonde hair down to his elbows, a shirt, which on anyone else would seem totally tasteless, but on him seems understated, low slung flares below the hip. And below the bell bottoms? Simply shoes. I imagine. The Hippie seems to have the crowd whipped up into some sort of chaotic yet totally rhythmical frenzy, sending out fuzzy guitar licks directly to the brain. The results seem only positive. I asked I fellow non dancer when the bands were due. "dunno man, who knows? 10? 15? Maybe an hour?"
"So we just roll along then?" I said. "Just roll brother!"
I feel he was mocking me, playing up to the night, but I didn’t think for once he was lying to me. No sooner had I polished of my second beer than the first band cranked out the first chord of a heavy set....
Again it was not easy to lock on to the figures on stage. Lights melting, flashing, mixing up and totally confusing any signals trying to make their way up the optical nerve. I turned to see some sort of film being projected on the huge white wall behind and above me. Looks like a Lynch inspired experiment, but I couldn’t be sure. Flashing images, more sexual intent, totally enthralling. I look forward to the rest of the evening. I see no end in sight. A real, genuine, positive vibe - and when there is so many vibes and vibrations flying around, that’s when you’ve got yourself an experience....
My first Old Psychiatrists' Club
Burt Randolph
