False dawns of a jilted spring. We question your chastity. But the worth is in the wait, and brings Séance to the fore. Portico Quartet you number among us, your arms brew iron and your lips are like cruel-crescent moons.
Because you didn't think that not doing it meant that it didn't get done? Against the odds and the savages of time, Seance did it.
For the first time ever Seance breached Mitte's walls and inscribed its own brand of triumphantism on its cardboard citadel. In such a setting Portico Quartet spoke louder than words. We are privileged to be living at such a time when this band and their stimulators are playing. This quartet takes the dough of music, batters it, impregnates it and leaves us mystified at its core.
A catastrophe was the only possible ending to such a groundbreaking Friday night. But thanks to you all and to the roof that didn't fall.
SALUTATIONS FINE FRIENDS!