Tuesday 23 November 2014 Crystal Palace I have marked out the bare boards in the front room with black masking tape. It is a rectangle (5m x 3m: van size). Everything that is coming north from here is stacked precariously within the space: cardboard boxes marked with felt tip - art, bedding, books, cds, cutlery, … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island…30
Tag: Notes from a fragile island
Notes From a Fragile Island…29
September 24 2005 Croydon Phoned The Ship and Joel E trying to track down my scissors. No joy. Wrote a postcard to Nick B and one to Alaster G. Phoned Scream Studios and booked a rehearsal with Santiago for next week. Met Magic Sam at The Hogshead for lunch - tomato soup, crusty roll with … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island…29
Notes From a Fragile Island…28
August 10 2015 Croydon The shopping centre reeks of men's hair product. The haircut remains the traditional short-back and sides, but edges toward something quite Hitlerite of late. There are too many men sporting baseball caps. Too many men in tight or ill-fitting sportswear. Too many oversized tee shirts proclaiming Old Guys Rule, Pink Floyd … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island…28
Notes From a Fragile Island…27
July 4 2003 Carshalton. Green puddles of hard plastic are welded to the pavement. A number of wheelie bins have been torched outside the flats. One of them appears to have melted completely. A toxic stench permeates the scruffy forecourt, but the birds still sing and a crow hops up and down among scraps of … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island…27
Notes From a Fragile Island…26
January 8 1999 Walcott Street. The morning rain is heavy. A and I struggle our amps and guitars up Walcott Street toward the Hat & Feather where we have hired the back room to teach his brother, G, our short, Shit-Pop set for the Moles gig. When we get to the top of Walcott Street, … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island…26
Notes From a Fragile Island. 24
October 10 2004 Croydon Blue. Click clack click clack. Footsteps behind me. A wonderful, feminine clatter spills across the concrete and glass and Saint George's applauds and so do the pigeons and so do I. The arcade, everything, is suddenly charged: electric. I fall into a stroll and her footsteps fall in beside me. Fingers … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island. 24