THE BACKGROUND MUSIC faded away and a relative hush fell over the room. Most eyes turned towards the main stage. This was in the days before they built the steel barriers to stop fans climbing up there with the bands, so it was a lot more open and accessible.
The Squire had made an appearance, strolling to the centre of the stage and grabbing the microphone.
“Alright, the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” he announced. “From the darkest depths of the West Rand, here for one night only, here they are – Martin Rocka and the Sick Shop.”
The band started to take the stage, but before he left the Squire spotted me at the table. “Oi, John, get up here. The vodka and lime is on its way.”
Who was I to argue?
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THEY KICKED STRAIGHT into “The Boogie Mansion”, a guaranteed crowd ple
