There’s a mob of reasonably aged old-timers who gather at Bondi most days who might remember Sandy Nelson … but just in case they don’t here he is again.
This number was a late night Bondi blood anthem back in the day and every time it was played the girls moved out to the kitchen as the mob of howling boardriders listening to it was best left to themselves for the couple of minutes the piece lasted. This was in the day drugs weren’t necessary for a bloke to enjoy himself and Sandy flogged the skins just right for the times.
And we had the moves. And everything got broken.
Sandy Nelson drummed out the other day, bit the dust, kicked the bucket, but there you go, it happens to the best of us.
Apologies to anyone under 75, Nelson was an acquired taste.