Photos by Suzie and Alex R and Siant Acid. More photos on www.saintacid.com
(click the eyes to see, u: saintacid, p: bangface).

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Public Life literally a shit-hole but what a banger. This was to be the official formation of the Union of Bang Face. Would it live up to the hype? Would Kevin Hill and Jan Ulrich turn up? Would St. Acid go the way of Samson? Was it Lesson 8 or would it be a lesson in hate? I turned up at 8:30 but left aching and feeling thirty.

Walked straight into T. 'Maximo Bondini' Smilex and some fucking snails. The perfect mix of softcore facecore and full-on slime-porn. The ideal warm-up for a night of post-modern blasphemy. After catching SARS in Rome, Big T. truly MDMazed us all. Next stop, the 2004 Native Instruments workshop in Hemsby. T. M. B. Smilex then promptly left to remain alert for Church the next day.

Next up were Jimmy 'Zinger' Bolus and Roboy Braiken. Were they out to fool us or were they just fakin'? No. These boys truly put the Bang into Bang Face. With a combination of Homemade Nail-Bomb Electro and Post-Industrial Revolution Regeneration Techno, I felt the first symptoms of ExBaFRaS (Extreme Bang Face Re-appropriation Syndrome). My eyes filled with wax, my ears smelt trouble, my tongue fixed of the DJs and my nose grabbed something hard. That something belonged to a giant German looking man with a sock on his head.

As my fears increased, up stepped Suzie Sparkle. It was the first 'proper' music I'd heard for years. Fuck Braindance, I danced. Remarkable Sparkle reminded us that just because you are in a trendy slum in London, you can actually hear good music. Crazy! We also got our first glimpse of the ravehorn as a flash of luminous orange lit up the disused public toilet like a distress flare. The rave officially started and the birth of Neo-Rave had begun.

The time for the gospel according to St. Paul of the Black Ford had come. An onslaught of bass driven ghetto slang boomeranged Bang to Face and Bang again. It was as though Face had fallen from grace and been served up like a kebab outside the High Society in Staines. The crowd showed their appreciation for this live performance by one of the UKs freshest Bang Beaters. The ravers began to 'loos' control and the euphoria became increasingly hysteric. Big up the B.

One o'clock, what a cock! What's that on his head? What's that shit on his T-shirt? Hang on a minute… I recognise that noise! One time for the foghorn! Oi Oi! Bring the noise! What's that mate? Bang Face! Bang my Face more like. Bang my Face you fat cunt! Blimey! Steady on mate.

Saint Acid blew my face of, straight off. I started swapping faces, for a laugh, with a bunch of random ravers I'd never met. We took it in turns to bang each other's faces before we passed them on. I saw the tall German guy's face on the floor. A man was stamping on it shouting "Bang Face". I think his name was Bolus. Saint Acid was shouting "Bang Face". I've never heard music played like that before. It was like the Dissolution of the Monasteries meets the Second Summer of Love. The combination of Ragga Gabber Bang Beat Facecore blew me away. The sound of the foghorn made me feel like I was a General leading an army into battle. I felt like I was being swallowed into a whirlpool with an octopus stuck to my head. I loved it.

I'm not sure what was harder, the music or keeping up. Just when I thought it was over, it wasn't. Cries of "One more fatso" brought me to my senses like a Vicks inhaler up each nostril. One more fatso became ten more as the rave heaved and pulsed out of control for another hour. As I stumbled outside, I noticed the time - 3:03am. Suddenly it all made sense. Forgive me Father, I sinned but I will sin again when the call comes.

By Yesterdays Child