Back to the Dustbin

I first saw Ned's Atomic Dustbin in the early weeks of 1991 at a long-vanished club on the westernmost edge of West 21st street that I've mentioned here several times called The Marquee (with the louder/noisier/hairier Swervedriver opening). When the Neds hit the stage, it was this technicolor explosion of flailing hair, goofy t-shirts, oversized sneakers and gangly limbs, with each member of the band (barring drummer Dan-Dan The Fast Drumming Man) airborne more often than not. I was 24 at the time. 

This clip below, meanwhile -- recorded a mere two years ago -- suddenly finds the Neds (and their fans) having succumbed to the travails of age (this from someone significantly older, fatter and grayer than he was in 1991) and looking very much like the gaggle of dads they probably now are.

But they still bring the goddamn goods! Crank it!