The Womb Room
'But the blood soon dried and I had the pleasure of picking the clots.'
Imagine you as a tiny fly at your mothers breast. Or running into a wet dripping auditorium with yourself as a child. Then there is the one where you are emptying the sand from your shoe after a day at Troon, and the sand flow never ends.
In this hour and a bit we mess about with thumb pianos, listen to sound around being a mum and think about our siblings some.
AND many offerings from our dear dear friend Ivor Cutler. He is the bony king of nowhere. He understands this thing.
Happy Subcity Big Weekend. Here is some quiet joy to end it :)23:00 - 00:40