An otherworldly, sanguine forest of braided lights blip around the edges of Megan James as she gracefully saunters through their enveloping elegance. The array of sound which pulses through the club echo out like a child’s laughter on a hazy summer afternoon: distant and comforting; at play. And the crowd breathes, bounces, and moves as a single unit almost as if Corin Roddick’s production is the maelstrom and the audience is the ship romantically bobbing in and out of the […]