The Brixton Rooftop reopens its doors this Winter...
There is a rattle and a hiss as a Subway train hurtles by, the painted metal a riot of colour - a speeding canvas for guerrilla artists against the smoking cityscape. This is the The Big Apple 1977 and the city is on fire.
In the Bronx, a new kind of hybrid music - a DIY collage of looped Funk and Disco breaks that will one day dominate the sonic landscape - is being born on street corners and in makeshift dance halls. They call it Hip Hop.
In Central Manhattan the lights of Broadway shine down on the throngs clamouring outside Studio 54, as inside Warhol gets down with Grace Jones, and the stars swing from the mirror balls and dance, ankle deep, in glitter.
The word is out - there's a block party in Harlem tonight, and you jump the barriers and head uptown. You get off at 125th Street, the bass making the pavement beneath your feet shudder as you head towards the sound. There's electricity in the air tonight and the streets themselves feel alive - because this the city that never sleeps, where the party never stops and the night is always young...