lightning strikes

The Sunshine Underground @ Faversham

Maybe it was the prospect of seven hundred ("Seven hundred??!") people squishing like marinaded sardines into the Faversham with such proximity that all sorts of potentially frisky things could happen; maybe it was the atmospheric buzz zipping about visibly like an electric-blue bolt of lightning over an array of extravagantly-varied haircuts; or maybe it was the range of world beers on offer but, whichever way, The Fourth Festival Of Nasty proved to be one stonking, stamping, stage-invading beast of an event with antlers Pan himself would have been proud of pronged firmly up its derrière.