A tropical-sound party flyer flooded edge to edge in fluoro chartreuse with one vermilion doing every other mark in the frame: every mark hand-drawn with a chisel marker, the edges ragged, the ink pooling where the pen slowed. A bunch of flowers or a potted plant, flat and frontal, a potted plant with legs and trainers fills the centre and right, drawn in outline and filled with a coarse dot halftone. The sides of every stem perfectly vertical and the corners square, letters set so close that adjacent stems merge into one bar set in every letter built from a coarse grid of separate square dots, monospaced, tracked wide, the whole line the height of a ticket print in the upper left and a giant ghost of itself behind — the same word again at four times the size in a second ink underneath everything, cropped hard by all four edges so only parts of the letters show, set at three sizes down the sheet. Across the lower half a full line-up, each act name enclosed in its own hand-drawn spiky starburst outline or reversed out of a hand-drawn rounded pill, with a small hand-lettered country code beside it at a jaunty angle. Sunday 23 February, doors 6pm, 115 Stokes Croft BS1 3RW, six small hand-drawn asterisks and starbursts scattered as punctuation. Two saturated inks, flat, the halftone dots the only mid-tone. Joyful and crowded.