“Clinging on to the one you hate.“

‘The late 70s, early 80s, that fierce period of time was all about wearing one mask after another, as we experimented, evolved. After the riot of Punk Rock back in ’76 /’77, which certainly taught us all a lesson, so many of us lurched back to Bowie, Roxy Music, Kraftwerk, at London’s one-nighters for the new breed of arbiters of taste, where the soundscape of early synth was such a contrast to what was on offer on the gay scene back then. Clubland was becoming a hive, substance with style. Dressed head to toe in PX, glittering like a score of Blackpool drag queens, accessorised with diamante, we danced like showroom dummies, future commuters in the metropolis.

The dance floor of Steve Strange’s Bowie Night at Billy’s on Meard Street, with DJ Rusty Egan at the decks, then Blitz, Hell, Club For Heroes, all held a weird sense of melancholy and narcissism. We were all monitoring with CCTV eyes, seeing our selves anew, reflected in slatted mirrors, as cameras went crazy for i-D, The Face, New Styles / New Sounds. FlashFlashFlash. White light. Seductive white light. The cameras of Graham Smith, Derek Ridgers, Nicola Tyson, Herbie Yamaguchi and Peter Paul Hartnett, pretty much strobing the assortment of fags and slags, high on poppers. Those photographers, armed with all manner of camera, shooting 35mm that would document every last detail for consumption. Over there, a teenaged Michael Clark from The Royal Ballet, surprising with moves rarely seen in a Soho dive. Over there, Gene October (John O’Hara) of the band Chelsea and film director Derek Jarman, lurking in the shadows.

Recording ‘Addiction’ (Music: Sam Dodson. Words: Christopher George, with improvisations from Peter Paul Hartnett in the final moments) at Gooseberry Studios in South London, remixed at Airport in Cambridge, catering to the needs of the emerging DIY electronic scene, with a splash of specific one-nighters in need, back in 1981. Another time, another world. The track was released as a two-mix 7″ of just maybe two fifty copies, as I recall. Yes, that scarce. Now, carefully remastered, reissued on delicious white vinyl as a 12″, with Steve Lippert working his design magic for the cover photograph by Andy The Furniture Maker back in the day, this is a gem of emotional and often improvised raw style, real style.’
– Peter Paul Hartnett, October 2026

Limited to approx. 200 copies, white vinyl, sleeve gloss lamination, polylined innersleeves, four double-sided hand-numbered postcards, download code.