another perfectly good motorcycle ruined.......

Sunday, 5 February 2012



when my lottery numbers come up i'm going to get my arse down to donington park, knock on the door and order two of the 'work's' racing bikes, one to race and one to look at in the living room where the telly used to be, [the fucking telly will be in the bin that's for sure] check out the website, www.worksracing.co.uk, the photo's? glen english on the racer, some of the best racing photo's i have ever seen, beautiful...........


hector was three year's older than me, i was seventeen, he was twenty, hector worked a day shift at r.e.cords in derby's saddlergate area, upstairs was 'limey's', a clothes shop selling fine threads to a trendier consumer, the older suedeheads and even older soulboy's, some of them the original mod's, cool blokes who knew their stuff, knew their music and knew their threads, for them, the cut of a shirt, the detail on a button-hole and how a trouser sat on a shoe were the be-all and end-all of style, i was a an apprentice, low wages and striving to be a part of the 'scene', a nod of recognition from a 'face' was enough, be it at a dancehall, a gig or on the terraces, downstairs at 'limey's' was r.e.cords, the coolest place in the world ever, cooler than a cucumber, cooler than a very cool thing with extra ice, cooler than ryan gigg's bedroom, hector worked there, he was a northern soul dj of the highest quality, his rare soul collection was something you could only dream of, he was going to the 'states to buy vinyl, fucking hell, even nottingham was a foreign country to me back then, [still is,] nevermind the you-ess-ayy, around 1978 hector started playing reggae and a new music called punk in the shop, we used to stand around listening to these amazing records, i used to buy almost everything i heard in that shop, nowaday's when i dig it out a lot of it sounds really old, which, i suppose it is thirty-four year's down the line, this is one of the record's i heard in that shop all those year's ago, throbbing gristle were a post-punk band from, of all places, hull and one of the first band's to use samples in their music, i had never heard anything like it before and even to this day it sound's like, well, it sound's like the sound of that shop on saddlergate that had such an effect on me back in the day..........
sunday, it's grim 'oop north, the match is off, i flick radio derby on to get the skinny, the pitch is ok, [under-turf heating], but the police have decided to call off the match because of the amount of snow and ice outside the stadium, [imagine 33,000 people walking over that and compressing it into a lethal ice rink] anyway, we are snowbound in the village, the only thing moving is on two or four legs, lazy breakfast and off we go, the dog's are up to their armpit's, [do dog's have armpit's? they've got a leg on all four corner's so i suppose not then...] bloody hell, this is hard work, the snow is powder perfect, we stop to watch a kid carving it up on a snowboard, superstyling, the dog's trying to chase him down the hill, as i tab on up the hills i'm breathing through my arse, all the time i'm thinking, i really don't know where these thought's come from but i can't get the captain beefheart track 'steal softly thru snow' out of my brain, as soon as i get back, kettle on, towel the boy's down and dig out my copy of troutmask replica...............