welcome to the jimi hendrix experience, I’m sure bob dylan would dig this version of please crawl out your window, in shibuya, in summer, and there’s girls everywhere, legs everywhere, breasts with fake tans galore everywhere, men in black suits with brown hair with too much gel, and bad attitudes and bad medallions, and Mediterranean drug dealers sitting in Segafredo, beside the pimps and their gals, and the Segafredans can’t make the drinks fast enough, and there’s students sitting with empty cups and their economics and obstetrics and gynecology books, and outside it’s warm, summer is here, and the crowds surge past the whale meat restaurant with no thoughts of environmental issues on their minds, and a Western film crew are speaking into the radios to coordinate a movie shoot, and I look but can’t see what they’re coordinating, and a girl walks past wearing flipflops covered in green plastic grapes, and the pharmacy guys shout through plastic megaphones to no-one who is listening, and the video screens compete with them for attention up beside the trains trundling past, and below the crowds continue to walk, to push, to wait obediently for the green man, the guys handing out free packs of tissues waiting to target their audience, to target the girls and housewives needing financial loans, and the film crew have their view blocked by a truck, and there’s a girl in a black dress, there’s always a girl in a black dress in Tokyo, and there’s girls with huge sunglasses, and big hair, fake hair, and it’s Shibuya, and still Jimi Hendrix Experience are playing in my earphones, in my own private movie, and everyones moving like ants on sugar, and it’s colourful and it’s summer and it’s Shibuya, it’s hyper-real, and a girl walks past with a large vertical scar running down her cleavage, and the soundtrack is Jimi singing you know you are a sweet little heartbreaker…