Waltzing into Oblivion with... The Mystery Jets

Pitching up two hours early outside Kingston's Hippodrome on Thursday night (just to nab a cheeky spot at the front of the queue) proved unquestionably worth it: The Mystery Jets at New Slang were phenomenal.

With a Seventies' flavour, aided by their stylish array of floral-patterned shirts, The Mystery Jets imbue their 21st century tracks with an infectious mix of bounce - Flash Me A Hungry Smile had us jumping and cooing along (I also love that its opening is a bit like the creepy music in 28 Days Later) - to the old school romance of Melt, with its intoxicating sentiment and stunning lyrics: 'There's an invisible line where your body meets mine, and crossing it feels like a drug'.


Replaying it in my bedroom, I've waltzed myself into a dizzying heap upon my duvet. They're right - who needs noz when you can feel like this? If only we could return to the days of fantastic dance halls, where innovation and dream found expression in the experimentation and elaboration of simple dance moves, instead of the inane booty-shaking two-step attempts taking place every weekend in booze-fuelled OceanCrasher across the country.

Then we could all waltz and whirl ourselves into delicious oblivion, to our hearts' content. In proper tribute to the music - new and old - that we love. Until then, our Dreaming of Another World is relegated to the bedroom.

Photos by: Vicky Ellis (MEEE!)