In the distance through the sweet night air, hummed and throbbed the pulse and hazy chorus of music and ambiance. Distortion had arrived and it brought people to the streets like ants milling out for a spill of picnic honey. Being a lover of the older rock and roll, the music held little appeal, but the non stop chatter about Distortion this and Distortion that peaked my curiosity enough to venture out to the city centre on Wednesday night. The warm sun of the day settled behind the buildings and a balmy night of background music filled every sense with the true vibrance that only small cities like Copenhagen can capture. Like a jar filled with sparkling fireflies; such was the beautiful feeling of a glistening night in this cosy city. People filled every street corner, and bikes cluttered the patches of cobbled squares. In every hand a drink, the other gesturing as the voices rose above the music and joyful expressiveness poured out of every beaming soul. The music didn't seem to matter: if there was a blast of it nearby, bodies rocked and swayed to the bouncing rhythms, occasionally crescendoing into full throttle dance. As the night played on, men casually peed in the streets, the flow of nature's call not interrupting the flow of conversation. In any other context this might seem strange; but there is a casual easiness to this place, a looser sense of being human that pervades even that most natural but secretive functions. Progress from one street to the next was slow. A thousand people drifting this way and that eased the pace to a meandering amble. The quaint cobbled streets became sticky and beer cans rattled as unseeing feet knocked them. Meanwhile the can collectors wandered around, eyeing the loot, and saved us from what I imagined would be wading ankle deep through a sea of empty green cans.
As the ground became stickier, the music now fading, my eyes became heavier: it was enough excitement for one day. I took my leave at midnight, happy that I had experienced the street party that is Distortion.
