Well I haven’t, not at all. I am more like the tern over the furrowed field yesterday. However, I knew when the term popped in my mind it was a lyric snippet so I thought I’d give credit where it’s due: Level 42, the Sun goes down.
I used to get a bass kick like this: an elderly gold Mercedes-Benz parked up under the council flats where I lived in North London with its boot full of subwoofers and speakers. The car used to shake with the bass coming out of it and so did the flats.
Since I got a bit older I have started to miss that bass vibration coming up through your feet that you get in clubs, so yesterday was a bit of an unexpected treat. I had downloaded Read the rest of this entry