The crowd chats away, clinking glasses and socialising, before the lights dim and turn red “I gotta whole lotta love…” He murmurs into the mic the drums starting a steady beat behind him “I gotta whole lotta love…” The crowd cheers, his voice echoing around the pub “I gotta whole lotta love…” He says, sensual. For a middle aged Aussie rocker, he sure knows how to hold an audience. His cigarette smoulders between his fingers, the red lights of the bar giving the whole thing an intimate feel “I gotta whole lotta love… eughhh” He moans, sending a hard shiver up your spine, and seemingly those of the others too “I gotta whole lotta love… ooowwww” That moan drives the crowd nuts. He knows what he’s doing, as the drums get stronger. His voice goes up in pitch, squeaky and feverish and desperate “I gotta whole lotta love………I got a whole lotta love……….. I gotta whole lotta love!!!” The drums get louder, the bass and guitar slowly picking up “I gotta whole lotta love………. I gotta whole lotta looooove… I gotta whole lotta love, cmon…” He groans into the mic, long and tight and… well… Then the beat drops, into his hit, ‘Hey Sweet Ladies’. The crowd roars, appreciating the buildup. He’s a funny man, David. And god, is he clever with his fingers