A phone call from a fellow DJ in need of a fillin means I'm playing reggae and world music here at the station and looking out the window at the swirl of blues and greys over the stark silhouettes of factory smokestacks and church spires. I wish I was out there with the camera but instead I'm providing West African guitar intricacies and apocalyptic roots reggae for the masses as the sky darkens and the rain begins again.
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2 comments:
them belly full, but we hungry; A hungry mob is a angry mob. A rain a-fall, but the dutty tough...
The worst part is that you didn't even get the chance to try and kill it.
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