Alice finds the program: we’re hesitating between Monday and Tuesday. Finally it’s Tuesday, and another location: Brooklyn’s Union Hall. I arrive directly from work, and wait for the others in a comfortable fotel. The bar looks like a ‘Union Hall’, a literary-free-mason venue from one of the best days of the late 18th century. Books cover the walls, I find a political analysis of the Soviet union’s first 5-year plan. But then people gradually arrive and we move down to the concert hall. A small space, with three concerts following each other. Romantic balladas with disturbingly simplistic lyrics, then fast, imaginative rock, and finally the Norwegian band.
