The Slits




live review


London Hammersmith Palais

THERE WAS this strange Mancunian woman with a love of Dionne Warwick and singing tunes with just a drum kit and lightly touched double bass for company. She was fun. Then she brought on three friends, roguish looking young men in suits. They perform backing voice duties and a delightfully sloppy semi jive routine. This group's name was pronounced Carmen but it may well be spelt differently.

Following were the nine sets of gyrating limbs and torsos belonging to the London Dance Troupe. Unusual entertainment, at least for me, but great to watch. Both these acts were special guests who more than merited that billing. Between these things came a truly swinging sound system. People danced and a jolly atmosphere developed. Even the Mecca barstaff were without their customary drab uniform.

The backdrop for the Slits is a washing line hung with odd coloured garments. Bits of fur cover organ and amps. Several standing lamps, with shades, switch on and off at intervals.

Don Letts, or so I'm told is filming a video and hence the reason for the welcome absence of more common unimaginative rock and roll lighting. The Palais is positively transformed. Obviously the Slits drew inspiration from the previous day's screening of Passport To Pimlico and declared this dance-barn Slitland!

To continue reading this article and to discover many more (over 140,000 words-worth!), purchase Mick Sinclair’s Adjusting the Stars: Music journalism from post-punk London. 


mick sinclair

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