photo by winch
Davila 666 (puerto rico)
Davila came all the way from puerto rico, a garage band from the west indies, can’t miss that, make my way to the front. The stage is crowded for a three-piece band, but these guys brought along twice that, crowd together so close I can reach out and pat them on the backs. I don’t think they speak english but they get my drift, launch into the jams. This woman links her arm with mine, and we push the boring people to the back. Pretty soon, I’m sardined with about a devil dozen dancing dames, having ourselves the times of our lives, my disease just making me feel dizzy and happy, sweating it out on the floor, the place baking with summer heat, the band cooking with gas.
When it’s done, I thank the band for coming all that way, make my way out down the sidewalk, find myself sleeping in my car the next morning.