everything in its right tone: bumping into zoe kravitz on the way in, rearing into david byrne at the bar, watching antony hegarty negotiate the v.i.p. terrace. and then the dissection of an album. chamberworks simmering with schizophrenic funk. smells like weed. someone keeps calling over the crowd: "come over, troy, i love you and i don't want you to miss this!" an exercise in rhythmic voracity. we are never hungry for less...
8 years ago


