The Amazons // Hydrozagadka, Warsaw, Poland, 2019 – Cat Woolley
The four on stage are strangers, but the ringing of the drums and the condensation on her beer feel familiar. For the first time in what seems like a long time she is awake. In the humid half basement, Pinkhair is two things: the ideal height to take an elbow to the face and determined to be on the front row.
Under the watchful gaze of a bouncer, Pinkhair defends her territory; now within reach of The Amazons, she has fallen for a guitarist. This is her vice, attached to the band with the jaws of the crowd moving in on her—she is at peace as she joins in with their melodic chanting. This is hypnotherapy, surrendering to the sound of fire she can feel the pieces of herself fusing back together again. The drums come crashing in and the spell is broken—only for a second—yet in that moment these dank surroundings are paradise.
As she staggers into her Uber, setlist in hand, Pinkhair has just one thought in her head. Waking up in four hours to get on a coach isn’t going to be fun, but it will have been worth it.