For such a short time, the intake of a breath, it seemed that the new wave was on the verge of an evolutionary step, and every Thursday night between Ubu sets, to wander outside, drifting between ballast heaps in the painless summer air, to gaze up at the underside of the High Level Bridge, to watch ore boats push themselves up the river, to listen to the sudden sonic fireworks shoot out of the alien Aeronautical Shot Peening Company with its angulated, pastel-painted, space cowboy facade-- Big Mystery Sounds fired into the night air-- to go out and to come back was to breath deeply the sensual mystery air of the Never-To-Be-Repeated. These were intoxicating days spent adrift in the ancient ruins of the American midwest.