primal scream, brilliant, this is one of my favourite track's, the original vocal is by denise johnson, sometimes cover version's are nearly as good.............

 the clock's going forward by an hour seriously threw my day out today, i was going to do wonder's today, but, well, fuck it, it's officially spring and the weather is warm and dry, only one thing to do then, i forsake my usual backroad's meander and 'profile' through the city centre, i remember barse posting on the abk blog about the joy's of splitting lanes through town and you know, he was right, as i make my way through my old stomping ground of alvaston where i was born and bred i've got jimi's 'crosstown traffic' rolling around in my swede, as i pass through allenton i spot a real life superhero, this geezer is the best part of eighteen stones, and he's patrolling the shopping area wearing grey jogger bottoms, para boot's, yellow cap sleeve t-shirt and, and i kid you not, a red cape, weird is alive and well and living in the inner city of derby, i pull up outside roadhouse tattoo's and park next to cosmo's sporty, no big twin's here today, must be on the chilly side for the bro's, helmet off, kettle on and time to catch up with the legend, or ben jones as he's known to his nearest and dearest, 'ey up ben, not going for a ride this afto then?' [ben's paintwork isn't back yet], 'ey up cunt, not racing then?' he retorts sharper than a very sharp thing, knowing my plight with the missing propulsion unit, one all then bastard, ben's laying down a nice koi carp backpiece, when your'e not on the receiving end of the 'treatment' you can sit back and watch in awe at the technique, fucking hell, i can't even draw a stick-man, but to watch an artist like ben laying down some serious ink is humbling.........................................

here's one for you, the drones, 'temptation of a white collar worker' ep from 1977, this was the spirit of punk, do-it-yourself, the sleeve even showed where the money came from to produce the record, this is another one i bought on one of my usual saturday foray's into derby's saddlergate, r.e.cords sucking me in like a magnet, hector, the famous northern soul dj, caught between two world's, bondage trouser's and brogues, 'cowboy' t-shirt's and penny loafers, bowling shirt's and old lewis biker jackets, patchoulie oil and red stripe, doc marten cherry red boots and crombie overcoats, cut down 'skelly' lambretta's and old beezer's, red pocket handkerchief's and dirty levi's, coal not dole, powercut's and ford anglias, football specials, football scarves tied around the wrist and harrington jackets, red socks, lime green socks, herring bone's and norwegian's, skinheads, suedeheads, rocksteady, the carib club, the ajanta, the old playhouse, the rex cinema, the old bell hotel, the polish club on charnwood street, the trident on east street, cleo's, bailey's and 'tiff's, button down collar's, sta-press and segg's, limey's, d.j.b and felix record's, union jack button badges, dancing to ska tunes at the youth club, thirteen pocket trousers, talcum powder and skol lager, sam fox and linda lusardi, chemist shop's and pro-plus, fucking hell, i'm getting old........

 yep, that really is a triumph engine, tipped through 90 degrees in a racing outfit, bonkers, one of the best day's i've had, i get really fucked off with people, work, football, biker's, even walking the dog's, i like my own company, that t-shirt was made for me, 'doesn't play well with other's' but, you know what? when i'm around racer's i feel at home, their not sitting on the fence, 'one day i'm going to race..' you have to make that happen, it's a fucking hard road, expensive, loads of work and dangerous, and even though i'm no good and will never win anything, i'm having a go, not sitting back and dreaming about it......................

i always assumed that charlie and inez foxx were man and wife, how wrong i was, the brother and sister duo recorded some classic soul tunes, 'mockingbird' being the most famous, this classic from 1971 on a british 'duck egg blue' pye international being one of my favourites, i had some inez fox stuff on stax back in the day but sadly they went the way of a lot of my vinyl when i went through one of several 'downsizing' period's, cd's were the future, why did i need these huge slabs of vinyl?, what a cock............, [click last photo for two minutes and thirty seven minutes of hot buttered soul.....]

we make our way down into the paddock, stopping by the hairpin to watch the bikes and outfits, it's a practice day, a time to shake off those winter cobweb's, shame no-one told these lad's and lasses, no compromise braking, back wheel's locked and smoking, elbow to elbow, just because the bikes are classic or vintage doesn't mean the riding is any less forgiving than a modern bike, i can't take it all in, my brain is fried, there's bhr regulars, international historic race series bikes, classic racing motorcycle club bikes and scooters, every bike is to die for, proper, i spot ron mauls championship winning boxer twin, he's fitted twin disc's and a 'k' series front end, the outragous 'big-wheel' triumph outfit, the cleanest guzzi leman's i've ever seen and the vellocette that took the owner 17 month's to build and which seized half a lap into the first lap, bummer, we sit in the warm spring sunshine, eating cheese and tomato cob's, swigging tea and taking it all in, the sight's, the sound's and the heady mixture of hot engines and castrol 'r'.........

 the polo is in for the dreaded emm-ohh-tee, i need to use up my annual leave or lose it, i'm up at 0500, quick brew, slice of holy ghost and i'm in mrs b's motor dropping off the boy jack at work, home for 0645, 'nother brew, double egg-on-toast and walk the dog's, it's one of those day's in england, cold, frosty, sunny, but, with a slightly misty 'ting and 'ting, walk up to the venture garage, have the crack with the lads, i get my m.o.t, there's a list as long as my arm, 'you're in for a world of pain next year youth if you don't get it sorted or fuck it off' i heed richard's warning, i've done well out of the old girl and it doesn't owe me diddly, but, today, i'm happy that i'm legal again, quick shower and the dangerous one turn's up on his mates 'whorenet' thing, we make the fifty mile sprint down through middle-england, skirt the mighty metropolis that is derby, drop onto the a6, into shardlow, the river is very low i note as we wait at the light's on cavendish bridge, into donington, yep, that donington, past the race track and i nearly get 't' boned by a dozy twat on a hyabusa pulling out of the museum, through breedon, lount, coleorton and stop for fuel in shepshed, the blossom is starting to show on the tree's, the green shoot's of spring, the sap's rising, the smell of turned earth and cut-grass, my favourite time of year, past bosworth field, the site of the thirty-two year battle for the crown of england that saw henry vii defeat king richard, turn left, a mile down the road and we are at another famous site, mallory park, the home of the post tt races, the transatlantic series and a certain battle between an italian gentlemen, mr agostini and a local boy, john 'mooneye's' cooper, park up and a visit to the cafe for liquid refreshment, we sit in the early spring sunshine, drinking tea, listening to the sound of singles and twin cylinder motorcycles being thraped to within an inch of their lives, my finger's are white, a combination of the cold and the vibration from the the sporty, the hot tea cup offer's some relief and the blood starts to fill my empty veins and capillaries, pumping, throbbing......

still waiting for my crankcases, heads, cylinders and rocker covers, they went to be blasted to clean over thirty years worth of road grime away, the first place i used did a piss poor job, i could have done better with a brillo pad and some gunk, for all the geezer's bigging up of the job i was going to get, well, let's just say i was 'mildly dissapointed' and so was he because i didn't pay him, off to another blaster then and again the promise of a speedy turnaround, that was three weeks ago and i'm still waiting, oh well, been here before, suppose i'll be here again. crack on with the exhaust then, first job was to remove the single balance pipe that joins the two downpipes, the balance pipe is to aid low-down carburetion and scavenging, this engine will be spending it's life at the upper end of the rev limit so we can cut the pipe out and file the redundant weld away ready to make up a couple of blanking patches, i did this mod on my jim cray tuned cafe racer 15+ years ago and the bike ran a lot better, the carbon oval race cans turned up at work today, that was a pleasant suprise, i ordered them at dinnertime monday and they were with me before twelve today, good service indeed for a change and i would recommend the firm, powertech exhausts in blackpool, the cans are 300mm long and are carbon and stainless construction, a removable baffle and all the hanging strap, rubbers and clamps are supplied with them, got to make up an adapter to go between the can's 51.5mm dia and the header pipes 35mm dia, but shouldn't be too much of a problem, just need the crankcases back now so i can get the right length for the pipes.............