Barbara Tucker’s in the house, belting out her anthems, and I’m reminded of clubbing in London and Masters at Work sessions at Ministry of Sound in the ’90s.
But she can’t remember which town she’s in, the kids don’t know who she is, and it all feels just a little old now (or perhaps that’s just me).
Still, those were the days my friend, beautiful people indeed.
Jávea
2011
