They dance. They laugh. They brawl like sister and brothers. They make songs about partying, fucking, going to the beach, partying and fucking on the beach, secret agents and queuing at the post office, all wrapped up in an unintelligible but perfectly logical barrage of Portugese gay slang which even most Brazilians don’t understand. They are the party-funk-fuelled soundtrack to a John Waters-directed account of Kenneth Williams dancing on the tables down the Korova Milk Bar. They are Pedro, Marina and Gorky and they have come for your daughters, sons, mums, dads, girlfriends and boyfriends. They are not picky.
