It was a tuesday night and it was cold in Brussels, not to say freezing cold with a sharp northern east wind. Only solution was to get quick inside the Vaartkapoen, where it was already sultry so early on the evening.
A lot of people standing close together, nodding on some reggea beats. Just like a summer festival, if it weren't for the scarves and hats.But quickly the scarves and hats changed into t-shirts with sweaty armpits. It turned hot when the English reggae formation Steel Pulse arose on stage. That's where they stayed for exactly half an hour, and surprisingly only one pull up. You know that. Pumping up the crowd with a famous tune, especially a couple of times the same one, and all of a sudden call it too an end and waiting for the cheers. "Wouldn't it be better if you would just finish that tune" is what I'm often thinking, "I will cheer if I like the song". But enough preaching, back to the crowd and Steel Pulse. They played a lot of hits: African Holocaust, Global Warming, Taxi Driver, Pan Africans Unite....like a big chocolate cake. A calorie bomb that'll manifest itself on your thighs. But the ladies an gentlemen weren't finished yet, it just needed a bit of whipped cream with a cherry on top. And then BOOM, abracadabra, open Sesame!!! There were the rastamen. With a solid piece of Steppin' out. Perfect midweek evening. That's all we need on a cold winter night, except for a fresh beer afterwards, to flush it all and to stop the sweat, that by now already expanded itself till navel height.
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