One lunchtime in early 2006 I called on Magic Sam and he said to me, "We had the manager of The Fall in earlier." Really? Sam worked in Beanos (the sign above the door proclaimed - 'The largest second-hand record shop anywhere') and for many years this was the place to hang out. If you … Continue reading All Kinds of Everything.
January 21st 2007 (M25) The M25 is, as I have suspected for some time, more than just a motorway that encircles London and the surrounding suburbs: it is a dark magic that ensnares. It cannot be coincidence that once beyond its grasp the air becomes breathable; the sky, bigger; the scenery, vibrant - so vivid, … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island
January 11th 2005 (Croydon) More flowers in the alley between George St. and Park St. Condolence for a kid killed by a bouncer at Flares: Goodbye m8. God Bless. Gutted. RIP. The bouncer was charged with murder on January 1st - what a way to start the year! The news doesn't surprise. I witnessed from … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island.
I packed a stack of old records in a Tesco's bag and took a 109 into Croydon. Some were mine, some were yours; once upon a time we called them ours. Tim looked sad as he opened up that Tesco's bag and spread out all that vinyl on the counter. He pointed out some scratches … Continue reading scratches in the sunlight.
a bowlegged woman and a woe betide gent and a worrisome teen with marker pens, come suddenly through the door. Over the rim of his jar, he decides them, "a very rum number indeed."
The back lane, this new-year dawn, is littered, bleakly - tumbled bins, spent bottles, knuckled tabs, sodden boxes; hound shites, plastic wraps, a quilted headboard, yellowed hand towel; wrapping-paper tumbleweeds troubling parked cars; a bloody gown of herring gull (gutting something); and the last, the very last, or the first, Christmas tree, skulking and skittling … Continue reading The Wronged Tree.
