The Telescopes: The Falcon, London
Simon Reynolds, Melody Maker, 6 May 1989
IN THIS HUMID HELL-HOLE of a venue, snuck bizarrely in the back of the tavern's toilets, my glasses mist up repeatedly, and I'm forced to remove them. This means I perceive The Telescopes only dimly, through a myopic haze. But it scarcely matters, as there's nothing here I haven't seen a 100 times before: washed-out faces hiding behind tangled black mops of hair, and the same rent-a-happening op art slide projections that every wig-out band in London falls back on.
Total word count of piece: 407
