There is a thread talking about Psyence Fiction so this is A Reasonable Thing For Me To Do. Nowadays, it kind of sounds like being in a kind of middle-aged rave in a lift with a tenebrous mass composed of Enya, Sharleen Spiteri and an acid jazz beat combo (it writhes, seethes, and begs for you to put it out of its misery). Still, I wish I'd been in a position to DANCE IN CLUBS when people used to DANCE IN CLUBS to Gorecki. I would dance good to that. It has too much bongos though.