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About Charleroi

So I’m spinnin’ this track, right, and it’s all fuzzy guitars and thumpin’ drums, like a night out gone wrong – or bloody right, dependin’ on yer taste! *mumbled incoherence* “Sharon, where’s me whiskey?!” It’s got this gritty story in it, y’see – bloke’s on the prowl, cash in hand, searchin’ fer a prossie. Little known fact, yeah? Back in the ‘70s, they used to call ‘em “ladies of the night” in them posh papers, but the streets knew the real score – always a hustle, always a tale. Makes me laugh, thinkin’ how some punter’s prob’ly wrote this after gettin’ ripped off – “Sharon, she took me last quid!”

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I gotta mention the old clock tower at Place Centrale. It’s worn-down, almost like the soul of the city—timeless, but stubborn. It reminds me of that line from Spike Lee’s flick—"Time is an illusion, motherf***er." Every glance at that tower brings a mix of hope and melancholy.

An Abandoned Power Plant With a Dystopian Aesthetic