This is my least favourite part of the year - dismal sunless days followed by long dark nights. At around 4 o'clock when light fades, the only way to cheer yourself up is to get out the Casablanca DVD yet again - but wait! Today is different! The mighty Dhol Foundation are playing Bristol this afternoon. You need Dhol drums to get you out of the doldrums and jeez, do this band do it!
I'm in the front row - blistering, ear-popping bhangra beats meet swirling celtic jigs and still we all sit. Johnny K keeps telling us to do him a favour - he's working hard and those drums weigh a ton and he NEEDS US TO GET UP AND DANCE! This is genteel St Georges where wealthy Cliftonians come for their culture - we don't dance here. If Funkadelic, Kool and the Gang and Chuck Berry shared a bill here we would all sit still. Finally, some brave souls go for it and stand up - yep that's right - STAND UP! Slowly, more surrender to that ecstatic Punjabi rhythm - surely one of the most compelling in all world music. We practice our moves. We do impromptu jigs with complete strangers. The summer festival vibe descends on a dark November afternoon. Johnny's happy at last and at the end all's well with the world as we stumble out of the hall, sunshine and long days pumping in our veins. Dhol Foundation rock. Period.
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