Thank God It’s Not Summer (Anymore)

It’s a tax-loss-honoured tradition of British rock that Nothing Happens in July (or May, June, and August, for that matter), except rancid open-air scaled-down replicas of Altamont — the recent sheep-dip squat at a wind-scoured Derbyshire moorland site called Buxton (at which more folks were counted out from exposure than got busted) being just one of these hardy old perennials.

October 1, 1974
Ion MacDonald

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