In 1996 I lived through the end of the Kentish Town Rainbow Centre, then moved on to Wandsworth Eco Village , got evicted, lived by the river, etc etc etc
I'm 'Open Learning' Internet, Quark, Photoshop, etc at Kingsway College.
Tomorrow I'll cycle there and import this into their computers, adding it to my prototype webpages.
My bus failed it's MOT on the journey to Kentish Town from Hackney, last summer I took off its back springs (weeks of work); then took them to a blacksmith to be retempered.
A photo Doris took of me pulling the springs on a trolley (Great trolley journeys of all time - heavier than it looks!
Orange/yellow flames burst into my consciousness as I tried to rest - people were burning their wooden houses, but I stayed in bed calming myself. I peeped out when riot police arrived at first light; John and Susan, and then Suzana, knocked to tell me, but I said to go away I'm asleep.
When it was light, around 7a.m., I got up, made tea, climbed onto my roof and took a photo of the scene. 20 or 30 people were on the roof of the roundhouse - I wished I could have been there. Others had padlocked themselves to their houses, and to the jetty. I started dismantling my swings, scaffold, and bicycle-powered generator. A bailiff said hello, where had I been the last few years - he remembered evicting me from Camberwell and New Cross and Hackney... I'd been a few places and done a few things - inside my mind and outside in the world.
I was loading my bus, tying things on the roof, and so on when I heard the noise of chainsaws -they were cutting down trees. I walked over, "What are you doing?" They said they were cutting the trees because someone had climbed one. They were ten big trees.
Up till then the eviction had been (perhaps) fair but firm. But felling those trees down was petty spite- they know we like trees. But it's their property, their right, makes the land more valuable to their accountants' way of thinking. But trees are the lungs of London.
Those trees had been there for 30 or 40 years. We'd been there five months, and were gone in five hours. I used to drink Guinness, but no more.
If every night I'd written down what had happened that day, well, what a book I'd have! But observing and writing like that would have altered reality, altered how we behaved, whether they'd known I was doing it or not, the observation affecting the observed (is that Heisenberg's uncertainty physics) - I didn't, and I'm glad I didn't, but I also regret that I didn't. For years I've done a monthly newsletter, DiceNews, just 20 photocopied A4s (I'm an introvert), but while at Wandsworth I didn't do one, too busy living a life.
Dear Squallists Squallees, and Squallettes,
It was at an early Festival that people decided to build Stonehenge.
For the record, when on June 1st 1985 Thatcher's police and 'specials' charged the hippy convoy in a grass field near Stonehenge, many tried to escape through the beanfield. If any one of the hundred-ish convoy drivers had wanted a 'battle' then he/she c ould'v killed cops truncheoning windows- squashed like woodlice between anuverbus at 40 m.p.h. - but not one of us did - for all our hypocrisystems we were a Peace Convoy.
May 1997 maybe Westminster elections - perhaps they'll Con us again - else a hung parliament, Lib/Lab/Welsh/Scots, Rainbow Alliance, Glenda Jackson PM?, a new age of concensus, justice, trust,compassion... ...and a glorious summer solstice sunrise...
Your cousin, firstname.lastname@example.org
On the 8th day at Wandsworth, when the Roundhouse was built, we partied, Heathens All played for us and we danced.
Yesterday I drilled two holes in the back of my bus using Ian's
super-duper hand drill, it must have a kind of a diff inside it, it's
the only hand drill I've ever had which drills through metal without
Today a local said I could have a bit of bent scaffold, I cycled back with it, hacksawed it, drilled four holes by hand, then bolted it to my bus. To the top I attached Bill's windmill, which I'd rescued off the roundhouse last week. It's charging the battery I use for my PC. I'm scribbling these words on paper by candlelight. Later tonight I'll key them into my OlivettiM10 computer, (it's 6volts and 0.8watts, I run it off a little 6 amp-hour battery which I charge using solar cells). Tomorrow I'll connect it to my PC using my RS232 null-modem cable, and transfer these words to the PC, edit them a bit, then save to disk. Then, on Monday, I'll cycle to college, (not forgetting the disk), load it into Netscape, debug it, then upload it onto Kingsway's web server.
At home I'm reading June Singer's "Boundaries of the Soul, (the Practice of Jung's Psychology)"
It was another epic journey, towing B's caravan behind my bus. First I tidied up the yard, lit a bonfire, then left, out of the yard (didn't hit the gate!), into Smugglers Way, where I stopped the engine, checked the lights, poured a bucket of water into my woodburner, etc.
Ready, go, left, left, over the bridge, (sidelights failed), right, parked at side of road while B found the key, forwards, round miniroundabout, left into site, left right, saw the river, dropped off the caravan, 3 point turn - then some dangling wires got caught on my bicycle-powered generator tied to my roof and buckled it's wheel.
Admire the river.
I used to be terrible with physical objects - I'm an introvert philosopher, but having destroyed several motorbikes cars and vans I've learnt to take care and hurray!
I copied all the emails I could find into one huge subdirectory on a disk- when I cycle to college at Kentish Town to use their computers I just save my emails to disk and get on with more important work - wouldnt it be nice to have a computer with a hard disk and a mobile phone internet connection?
Tidying up the Stonehenge Campaign website.
At nine to Betsy Trotwood pub in Farringdon Rd (opposite the Guardian) experimental music gathering with Maggi Nichols and friends.
Then I cycled to Brixton, put up my lights, got entertained by musicians and poets and performance artists, said hi to several good old friends, and beautiful women, and kids, and beer and food, then did a lightshow with Lost In Space. Some was videoed and I saw it this afternoon (which is tomorrow, from the time of scale I'm writing in, which is about the gig, yesterday Saturday, from whence now, when I'm typing is tomorrow, if you catch my drift (I know there somewhere back there my writing doesn't quite make sense, a way I talked about time is perhaps technically wrong, however I carried on typing to keep the flow of my thoughts - this is art not science - (that's not quite true either) - and I read somewhere a rule of thumb: "When you write write, when you edit edit" meaning that in the process of creative writing, which is now, I shouldn't go back and correct spelling mistakes and slight errors, should get the stuff down in this mode of thought, write not edit, if i type something wrong just type the word again, repeat it, go back later and choose which one, mend the spelling, (which is doubly so now as I'm in my bus by candlelight, with my boots warming my feet leaning on the rayburn woodburner, this computer on my lap and the window over the sink looking out at the streetlights reflections rippling neon orange shafts in the river. And there's the lights of a train pulling out of Wandsworth Town station. The point is, I can't see the words I'm typing now, I'd have to hold the computer to the candle, breaking the flow. I'll end this paragraph here and later, when I'm editing, perhaps go back and see what those words of mine I'm complaining about were- I can't remember, that was several minutes ago.
But this bit of the story is about Saturday night, my lightshow - which I'll put on a webpage of its own.
Back at my bus I lit my fire ate three bowls of muesli, and drank tea, ready for John Peel on Radio One.
Wed20thNovember1996 Trying to upload to GeoCities - yesterday all my files got corrupted
Then to Farringdon Rd, the Betsy Trotwood for Monday night's music jam. Good. Found a floor to sleep on at Rick and Andy's.
Tuesday back to college, more computing. Free Krsna food for lunch.
Cycled to Kingsway's SansWalk centre, booked the video grabber computer for next Monday.
Slept on BenDennis's floor.
Wednesday Back to Kingsway, more work on Geocities etc. Found that stonefin.htm was unreadable, (nobody had emailed me and told me - has nobody looked at it - it's quite deep in the structure) - fixed it (I hope)
Got a new email address from Netforward, email@example.com, I hope it works.
Writing and debugging my first HTML form at my geocities site.
Phoned Colin to check on Wandsworth Bridge site - no news is good news, no fires, thefts or evictions.
Cycled all around North London, visited several of people who all were out. Wish I'd got some more addresses of the scores of friends from the Rainbow Centre. Feared I might have to sleep in the cold and rain, or cycle back south...
To Weave's, chat chat chat, sleep
Thursday Bought a new back light for my pushbike, flashing neon red. College again, decided to freeze development, to debug what's already there. Tidied up kiss/stonehenge and soho/9000. Finished at 8pm, exactly.
Cycled south, visited Andy, then south to Brixton, LostInSpace were out, left them a few flyers, cycled west, visited FungusMungus squat, ate an apple (thanks Ivor), then back to Karelia. To bed without lighting a fire, very cold, didn't arrange my blankets, a few half on top of me, cold, cold.
Friday Lit fire. Washed hair. Scribbling new website designs on paper. (I'm getting stuck down cyberspace).
Friday evening cycled to Veets, World PeaceBuilders Trust HQ, he's advancing, has found a paint program, we made a directory wpb/dice for my stonehengy stuff, I downloaded a few files off kiss/stonehenge and put them there, for future development, (when I dream a better idea of what the flavour of my input to his site will be).
Ben came visiting, I lent him a blanket.
Saturday 23rd scribbled and designed webpages. Turned on my PC, started processing various Bookmark files I'd saved at Kingsway - converting them to PC format, replacing Carriage Returns with CR LF, but the battery was too flat, had to stop
John Peel's show on Radio One was good again.
Sunday24thNovember Raining all day. Wind's started up again, windmill humming, charging my batteries (purists would say it's a wind-generator, but children would call it a windmill and that's the English I choose to use, know what I mean?
So, we're back where we started, Sunday. Time for a HR - horizontal Rule, then RS232 this to my PC, then paste it into dicenews.htm and save to disk and pack the disk and tomorrow cycle to college debug and upload. Except someone stole my new back light yesterday, probably a kid, and it's oh so dangerous cycling through London without a back light. HR
Thu05Dec1996 Whoops, email problems, phreak/intermedia have gone bankrupt so all my mail there is probably lost
I live in Karelia Bus, NFA, now parked 20 yards north east of Wandsworth Bridge.
Here I am, Saturday afternoon, radio3 in ears, laptop on lap, comfy chair in back of bus, right elbow on desk by cup of tea, left sink window, river dirty blue black, tinsel ripples lights reflected Finnish blue and white Wandsworth Bridge wih car tops, streetlights and battleship dirty matt blue sky - no sunset tonight. But nowhere can I see the green of life, there's brown low tide mud but no green shore weeds cos the rivers walled in.
Shall I hear all the Beethoven or switch to JohnPeel?
I can hear Beethoven5 any time if I really want - most record shops - what Peel plays is new, now and perhaps never repeated. I remember when a schoolboy listening with headphones when I was supposed to be asleep - when he played reggae I thought "what's this rubbish", but then thought he knows more than me about this music (I wouldn't have used the word 'respect' in those days), went out to Bemisters Lane secondhand record shop and bought a book with "Reggae" writ on it, first listen it was rubbish, second time not much better, but then the penny dropped, that bass, rhythm, wow (it was a very deep reggae record - Big Youth Reggae Phenomenom - what that was doing in a shop in a small nowhere english town I don't know!).
He thinks Liverpool might lose to Sheffield Wednesday- I'm not a football fan myself, but, wow, I saw that thing on telly, Thursday , I'd heard about it on radio 4 on Monday, a journalist who'd seen a preview, drama-documentary, Hillsbourgh from the parents' view, on Thursday after college I cycled to a few out people, then to Willie's, he was going out but I stayed, at one minute to nine they had MTV on, I said there's this program coming up, its going to be really heavy, they changed channels, and wow, I'd forgotten how many people died, 80 or 90, though when Duckenfield the top cop said to let them in the gate without tickets (else they'd be killed in the crush outside) you saw them opening the gates and a most polite crowd standing back then dribbling in, not the mad crush I feel there must have been - but at gigs before when they'd let them in there the tunnel had been closed and they'd diverted left and back around the ground, this time they went straight forwards through the tunnel to the pen - I remember the pictures, I put one in dicenewsA4 that month, that squashed girl's face, terrible picture, they call it a tragedy: which is using the word for once in it's true greek sense- a terrible event which had to happen, If crowds were barging into football matches then somewhere sometime people would get crushed, but if they'd got the ambulances and paramedics outside onto the pitch then many more would have been saved. I summed it up in one word:
My head nodding to the beat - they've fused dub and rave together - "at a variety of different speeds" says JohnPeel, "you can take it either way" his famous 'playing the record at the wrong speed' - but this one is perhaps designed to be played at any speed - then the news (boring tory politicians, I dont think Labour have won the next election, I think the tories might cheat and win - boring), this tune, drums, bass, rock guitars, young men singing, good old rock 'n roll, with a slight punk accent, "at the right speed - no question about that" - "its frustrating when you get records like that one before the news because when you get them home you know exactly what speed they should play at - perhaps I should write it on them" -not the greatest ever, just another peelism ( not my greatest writing here, just another diceism; a lot darker outside now, the candle's now my main light, I need to see the keys to type - then there was a girly punk band, now a gravelled male voice and hammond organ ("I dont believe ... in you ... in me"), so much great music around, makes me feel small, I think I'll get my tin whistle, play along,
Out for a wee, get wood, (two boys and a dog said "All right" I shrugged them off "carrying on") but bursting for a poo, yesterday the supermarket next door still was blocked, I bought my food and complained - 3 days (probably those hippys next door have been using it - but - so what?) so I put some newspaper down, bolted my door and poohed. The got more pallet wood and put it in the fire (once years ago broken down by the post Office Tower (dead beetle in the fuel pipe) (coming back from an MOT) when a similar situation, Sunday morning, middle of London, Carb in bits, few hours sleep, so I burnt it, a lady passing by said 'Oh I like that smell, reminds me of India' that sweet toffee-ey smell like here, now, I didn't tell her why, but often chuckle remembering
is that a violin or a synth? make tea. What am I doing? confessing my secrets here in the privacy of my own home but yeah its for geocities, a potential audience of millions, tell me what's your worst secret? - I could put a form here
if,if, if i feel like it and go back and correct mistokes, and the computer doesn't die or crash erasing everything and I RS232 it ok then save to disk then append to dicenews.htm, then cycle to somewhere and debug and upload to geocities- can you feel the mood of the records he plays? - some industrial techno noises now, what these boys need is some Dice George fluting - oh, this band's playing at the Monarch, Camden, I did a lightshow there once, at a Musicians Network????? gig, I think one of the bands threw donuts, perhaps they plagued me with an ultraviolet, can't remember...
Looking for a new home for them on the internet.
Wednesday night was the Stonehenge meeting at Torriano ("how's the website George?" "ah..."), then slept at Willie's, back to college, backing up to optical disk, uploaded this news to CAMP AIGN.HTM at Kiss, abandon development of new frames and icons and image maps and CIT certificate stuff, tidied up soho/9000 a bit, what I was going to do anyhow, need a while to think of website strategy. That night, telly, that Hillsbourgh program, no convenient bed so cycled back through the middle of London, Shaftesbury Av, Trafalgar Sq, Buckingham Palace, Harrods, Fulham Road, one red light on my bike, "go kill some cars" I said, fast, fast, though most out that night couldn't have seen the telly there was something in the atmosphere, One van near Picadilly would've squashed me if I hadn't braked - I spat at him. Looking in the faces of the lads in the street, I don't usually have much time for that type, but tonight their humanity shone through, wow, that telly, horrorshow.
Now he's playing some salsa-y carnival calypso-y music - no, I don't know the difference between salsa and calypso, but "rather a wonderful track at that - this next record, one I havent heard, lets hope it hasn't got lots of rude words" - there was a band name last week so rude he couldn't say it! - "A love like ours will never die, A love like ours will never die-e-i" Elastica, a name I've heard but whichever generation of students they're from I was somewhere else - no - I'm here, now, listening to JohnPeel, and when it's over I'll go to the phone, ten pee, ask if EcoTrip want to come and get my lightshow for the party tonight. Last month I danced and danced, complicated drum rhythms totally unlike Lord Eric's deceptively simple pat-a-pat. And upstairs tonight, Theo Shannon and Paul, first class dongas musicians, still free, I hope they don't get swamped by mega stardom (news - a boatload of tons of cannabis has been seized by customs - good honest drugs dealers or mistaken identities or thatcheroid gangsters?) electric guitar, yeah, a boysey band, where was I, Theo - I'm his greatest fan, I remember first hearing his "Here's a little history" song at Twyford, I got my pen and paper, hounded him, wrote it down then printed thousands in the middle of a Hackney Fin newsletter - the Beatles had three-part singing harmonies but Heathens All have five - see glimpses of some of them/us at stonehenge VeDay at my kiss/stonehenge website (if it's still there...(It's nice writing in hypertext because I know I can go back and put a hyperlink there, expressing pandimensionalmultiversity, but there's a loop back there to thirty minutes ago which could be expressed by an arrow on paper...as if (mood change to fast tapping rock from the more moody stuff early... "is the title of it, a fax here from..... a hi to the .. sixth form ... phoning up ... where can I get a copy of that ... but he hasn't done yet"
Time now twenty to seven, it's so transient, real creative writing first draft would be done on paper, it's such a long way from here to printed paper, there's stuff I've lost in the past, but this kind of writing here is impossible with pen and paper, I can't write this fast, and if I did my handwriting would be 20% indecipherable, well, 5%, 1%, quite a few words would get lost, and have I explained to you about this stream of consciousness writing stuff - not many insights recently that I can remember so it would be a waste of paper anyway - and if I do have any really good thoughts I'll write them down in my notebook. But I haven't. (As you'll know if you've been reading this far. Even if the computers work. Is there anybody out there? I don't care, I'm an introvert, I could be out there scaring cars with my madhippyonapushbike act ( I remember one junction last night, just about to jump the lights but I stopped, good brakes, on the line, two metal death trains of heavy metal traffic soon inches from my nose, looking into the eyes of a pedestrian - that's what I call showing off ( I could've have got across if I'd wanted to but it's good to stop at least once every journey, not all car drivers are gentlemen of the road..(what have I digressed from, I can't remember, and this screen only shows 8 lines of type, just as far back there as 'pedestrian', so what really matters?
Played whistle with a few tracks - like live - I ain't heard them before (but they can't hear me, good practice
What I've gotta do, soon, is write a letter to the Stonehenge Newsletter, but I've got no theme for it yet, have to look back through my notebook, I want something showing my weaknesses, empathy
Hillsborough, it's got to be that
empathy- what does it mean - its greek to me - that's a good name for a new designer drug - 'M's, more mellow than 'E's, empathy, and when they look it up in the dictionary they'll empathise a bit and even if its the same pig-trank they'll get a better t rip off of an 'Empathy' than an 'Ecstasy' - I was going to sell the idea to some drugs baron for a 1% cut, but that's stupid. I'll print it, it might just save the planet. And we all like think that after all's been said and done and forgotten we're undercover goodies, aren't we,,, which reminds me of that other one - 99% fluffy, if into the usual pub cock fight I can inject some "Look mate, I'm 99%fluffy, 99% nonviolent,... but you could be that one in a hundred so fuck off please " or whatever - they can build "99% fluffy" into their patter, but once it's inside their brains a slight improvement, a pub full of not violent but you know, it could've been that one percent, self respect, etcetera, I've gotta do something with th at slogan, no doubt someone somewhere else has already thought of it and already printed the teeshirts but so what, I should, and "should" is an iffy word (and perhaps here instead of blurbling on about to the reference to something I wrote years ago some where - Green Anarchist wasn't it, I can just go back over it tomorrow and ???hypertext it!
Still low tide on the river, I used to play in the mud at home with my canoe when I was a boy, but I wouldn't like to mix this London stuff with my blood! There's a cold going around and I've had the edge of it but I've been shovelling loads of food down (awful farts at college) looking after myself cos nobody else will and at the moment I don't feel so much that I'm a wasted mouth consuming here in the rich north, no, I've gotta save the planet, ninety nine percent fluffy mate, know what I mean? (Cos that brew crew article I wrote...
some weeks ago at ecovillage in the roundhouse a drunk was insulting me, then he called me a blond hair blue eye nazi, I stormed back to my bus, dug out a six year old leaflet (singed at the edges from my big bus fire), ran back, started reading it aloud, said "Look you called me a nazi..." fired up me old Coventry circuits, young Joanna snatched the paper from me and ripped it but others said "no, no, " they wanted to hear - I could have been condemning myself - who is this dice george wanker anyway - well, I can hyperlink it from here, cos I was copying it into this very computer last week for sticking up soho/9000...
There was a seven inch EP from Chopper from Leeds there, punky as you may have guessed from my thoughtflow, as I think back over this, there's some boring bits, but the smell of burning shit pervades, that sweet smell, is this Spanish this song, mandolins? - if I'd been writing like this every night at Wandsworth, why, there'd be a book, I've already said this somewere.. ow, lost a good idea there, shouldn't have writ that last bit, another cup of tea?
If I keep this up I'll fill up my megabyte at geocities, especially with all that stonehenge stuff there, however this dicenews.htm is more ephemeral than dicepubl.htm, transitory, I could keep burbling, but delete the text every few weeks (archiving it to disk of course (ah, but seeing the bus burn, there was a time when flames burst through the plastic skylight and air rushed in and through, four foot flames out the top singing the trees, it was lucky then the firebrigade arrived, my computer was melted but the disks survived, typewriter melted but the papers survived, tape player melted but my cassettes survived, guitar burnt, tin whistles plastics melted but my fingers unburnt, watching the flames burst through the plastic skylight, me with a jacket bicycle and flute, that was a zen moment, what really matters?
The musics changed from that foreign ballads to fast rock again -
"yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah...it's so seductive and he understands,.... it doesn't matter what kind of mess I make.... everyhing will be ok..... yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah oh I'm in heaven, I have been trr... too young ...thanks for the ride, it sure beats walking, you're really all right, though you cant tell by looking, yeah yeah yeah oh, is this love, and didnt you know? I'm to young to feel this ???? (guitar guitar guitar.. ends ."
"Three minutes and 45 seconds rather overlong for a singel Kenicke and this ones called "In My/Your? Car" boom boom new song - cant hear the words, it's the accent, he sounds very adjective adjective, angry, pissed off, "shadow", it's something about a shadow
cup of tea
there's things, ideas, impossible to express with words, (though if you could hear my music now it would've changed it - "tindersticks, that last from them, and as I say the session will be rebroadcast sometime without interruptions from me" (JohnPeel)
Best New Years resolution I ever made that one - "Listen to more John Peel", he's on world service on, is it monday mornings? so you yanks can hear him too (hm hm notice train of thought there actually imagining two readers! three including me assuming th is computer doesnt destroy it all.
but, you see, 'you, reader' to whom i writing this, as if for to be read by, for dicenews.htm on the world wide web at soho/9000, it doesn't matter that you don't exist, what it does is it gives this writing a distinct flavour, a target, I'm not using rude words like 'fuck' and 'bloody' all the time, cos I dont, when I swear... but you know that, because you, reader, whether or not you exist, are reading this off the world wide web where it's next to dicepubl.htm so therefore I can you assume you've seen those deep recessionations of my unpublished letters from years ago which, as an introvert, is where i base my self respect; a collection of all my writings which you can see (whether or not you exist) a collection unsurpassed anywhere in the planet except for in this bus, in my brain, and possibly in the secret files of the police! (That bit about the difference between a rebel and a revolutionary, I'd forgotten that, but explains why I've so favoured the word 'revolutionary' ov er 'rebel' - end of program, end of john peel, turn radio off, blessed silence.
Dimmed some greens and magentas and orange in Busker Paul's set,
Didn't light Days of Pure Enjoyment's set, I was saving myself for the Space Goats, I wish I hadn't because then I heard that the Space Goats were playing downstairs. If only I'd flashed earlier! (But I did play tin whistle with them once or twice, wow!)
Sulking downstairs whilst the Space Goats played, how I'd wanted to light - but there was nothing I could do about it, after a few numbers I started to dance and didn't stop.
Then some harp and an african drum/thingy, then sleep under a blanket I'd conveniently brought. No lift back, put my lights in a corner, walked to Lost In Space's, they've done a flyer for their free gig on Friday the 13th at HeatonLaneArms pub, Peckham,,,, so I'll probably leave the lights at Ecotrip till then, blag a lift off Dave.
Thu12Dec1996: thanks geocities for the second free megabyte - here's a 920k movie ... I've also added lots of pictures but havent had time to mix them into the htm files yet, so I've deleted index.html so you can see them all
"oh yeah, oh yeah,
I think about you night and day,
I need you and its true. . .
I'll get you in the end . . . "
imagine I'm in love with you,
it's easy if you know,
I've imagined I'm in love with you,
many many many times before,
oh yeah" -
the flip side of 'She loves you" - I remember this, and the gramophone we had, I was six, our au-pair Maija or Moussi from Finland played it - good times
The sun didn't come out.
Then on to Avebury pub carpark but I didn't get out of the car.
Then back to London, slight headache so sleep.
Today Sunday, I lit my fire, drank tea, and listened to Radio 4 - Alice in Wonderland, Pick of the Week, etc. Then visitors.
Suddenly three seconds of silence - "Interesting - something didn't happen that should have happened there" says John Peel, (or words to that effect).
shall I fade this?- this is the first time we've attempted this in this studio, so there's a large range that could go wrong " five points who's that- Billy Bragg, live with Joh Peel - I remember when he came to the Land is Ours camp last year with his guitar, he's a friend of Heathens All
Force and styles - Fireworks was one of John's favourite records of 1996, in his top three, but 30 in the festive fifty.