Save Me

Sunspots

Footfalls Echo

Say You Will

Winds Blowing Through The Grey Day

Panzer Division John Lennon

STORMFRONT ON HEAVY ROTATION

Alternate Mind Games

The Lords Of Conniption

I remember talking about how I'd heard of Shane already and telling you the story of how Lord Thurston wouldn't send him any knickers. Your already well-worn story of the four notes on Wish You Were Here. You've got such horrible taste in music. Sending me out to get you ten Marlboro like some lord to a fucking serf. What a fucking cunt. Chiefing me out too. Laughing about Leah being Sorted. Lancaster has a drugs problem. They can't get any. What that shit you were smoking had in it I don't know but I was hearing the aliens as we all lay there crashing. Some other time you uttering some drivel about becoming interested in contemporary dance. Like Hot Gossip. Loved her for saying that. Don't know what was with her weird letter and your phone call after that. We are stalking. I bumped into John after a break and he told me about the new Kermit and Fleetwood Mac loops and that he wasn't into that stuff. I can't believe you let that other smug two faced creep take all the tricks from you. Bridge could tell you a thing or two about his methods. Unwanted assgrab to impress the yanks with how they control their bitches, fuck sake. A story I hated to hear. What does any of it matter now. She did right by you with Algol. Years later still you said something to me which I blacked out the night of the rock four piece alongside Richard. I'd love to know what that was. There is a trauma, a blocking. It might have been just you being a horrible rude bastard yet again. It might have been something else. I want to know. You looked such a miserable fucker munching that sausage butty in the field and I could see you'd clocked me a way off and wanted to talk. Now that conversation I do remember. Tactics. How we had to do this. Next was when I told you the story about the kid on acid whose friend had died, and so you invited me and on that balcony you really were nervous before with your stupid topknot. What's with that mystic envelope of dimps anyway you fucking mong. Hope you got something from the book I gave you that night. Never thanked you for Ordeal back in '96, and I know you'd heard what had happened and it was really kind of you. And thank you again for the walk directions. In the bookshop at the end I picked up Lautreamont. Didn't do much for me to be honest. Wish I coulda come to the manky hotel and seen that prison view but I wasn't fit. Silkie came and danced right in front of me to the feminist disco act and was looking good. Your book was a comedy classic. It's all worked out just as planned I guess. There's a Murgatroyd on a bridge on CCTV walking home alone drunk 23 years ago. There's a lot more to see out there. As if you're not surrounded by love. Hob Cote Lane. Fade Away is for JD.