THE SENSATIONAL ALEX HARVEY BAND
That's the rust of the British Empire down there, scaling the stage, fainting from the heat, watching respectfully and with equal inattention as the disc jockey from Capitol Radio tries vainly to restore some order. "We want Ah-lex!" they chant in unison, crawling like white ants over the footlights.
There Ain't Nothin' Like a, Gang-Bang
(To Blow Away The Blues)...
Ltraiy Kaye
by
That's the rust of the British Empire down there, scaling the stage, fainting from the heat, watching respectfully and with equal inattention as the disc jockey from Capitol Radio tries vainly to restore some order.
"We want Ah-lex!" they chant in unison, crawling like white ants over the footlights. A quick totter, a wave to the crowd, then the abrupt jar of being heaved off the stage by security. Glory bound.
The lights go down to a flurry of applause. A heartbeat pulses over the loudspeakers, countered by the psionic whine of a reverential machine. A beam of light spins out, targeting a figure high atop a mountain of amplifiers, right arm extended as if in supplication. Let... me... put... my ... hands ... on ... you, he whispers harshly, the band moving in shadow.
Let me... a leap to the floor... put my... hands on you ... His pale knuckles curl in tense suspension.