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Those heralding the death of organised religion have got another thing coming. It's not dead, it has merely pulled off an evolutionary trick and changed forms on you. Churches have been replaced by clubs and arenas, God has taken a back seat to skinny guys with pink hair and t-shirts several sizes too small, but congregations still gather and sing the word and demand that their preachers tell it loud and tell it strong. They are not apathetic, they just don't pledge allegiance to the same forces that you do. If for one second you stepped down from your editorials and Range Rovers and opened your eyes, you would see it. It's not like they are hiding it... In fact, they are queueing round delapidated city blocks just to get a taste of it, they are wearing it on their shirts, they are using your hard-earned and your Platinum Visa to buy tickets for it. They are tattooing it on chests and arms and schoolbooks and Eastpaks, it's right there in Tippex on their '79-retro Converse hi-tops. It has codes and messages and texts and titans, myths and models, the heros and the hated - just like your faith. It has factions and splinters, renegades and conformists - just like your faith. It has everything they need, whatever they need, and you may never understand how or why. You may not understand, but just watch them dance... Just watch them dance...

Maybe you would get it if you saw them leave. They left everything in there. It evaporated out of them and rose to the roof, it fell to the ground and gathered among the bottles and cigarette packets and broken scrunchies. Wrecked but ecstatic, unable to talk but somehow still capable of singing every fucking word, they head home ecstatic when the final notes are played. It makes them feel alive, feel excited, feel part of something, feel anything, feel sure that as long as they've got this everything will turn out great. You may never understand but... just watch them dance. Just watch them dance.

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