26/08/2026
Dublin, East Wall, summer of 1989. Five young soul heads in a working-class room, listening to stories from the 100 Club and sounds I’d never heard before. That afternoon changed everything to me. Those guys are still my close brothers today (thinking of our beloved red-headed mate who passed away).
There’s one word that holds this whole thing together: respect.
Lately I see too many newcomers acting like purists, turning up their noses or measuring their passion by a 500-pound price tag on a rare piece of vinyl. True culture isn’t bought at an auction. It’s lived, shared, and earned over decades. Quiet respect beats loud pretension every single time.
What was the exact moment or record that brought you into the scene, and who passed that passion on to you?