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And it was true, there were still a lot of people at the bar. When support act Asian Dub Foundation began, we'd scored a reasonably central spot, wriggling closer after every song. ADF were great, but I was distracted a vision of loveliness iran lurking at the side of the stage. Behold! It was Ed! Ed O'Brien! Ed iran O'Brien from Radiohead! Long-term WNP readers will remember the enduring obsession that sparked such iran cringe-worthy entries as this. It had been almost six years since I'd seen him in the flesh, and he had aged gracefully (except for needing a haircut). He busied himself with various percussion instruments throughout the ADF set, dancing and singing along in his long and luscious way. What a guy. I noted a faint rumbling in my stomach, a weakness in my limbs. I put it down to the rush of hormones. Soon ADF were done and the crowd closed in. We pushed forward, our view of the stage increasingly cluttered by tall skinny folk in black t-shirts. Then two tall skinny chicks beside me lit up cigarettes.
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