a week before the 'festival of a 1000 bikes' and the loveless equipe are at mallory park for some shakedown time with the boxer racer project, as you know, we spat out the crank seal seven lap's into our first session resulting in much burning of the midnight oil to get us to the festival, after i got changed, i had a wander around the paddock and found this outfit, it's an imp engine, full of goodies from the 'states, crammed in an original windle chassis, the driver and passenger are beavering away, spannering on the outfit, i stand and watch for maybe 20 minutes, matey pokes his head out from under the outfit, 'only managed a lap and a half in three season's but we'll get there eventually' his girlfriend/partner/wife offer's me a brew, fuck me, that's what it's all about, i ask why they persevere with it, ' what else you going to do at the weekend, we fuck about with bike's, get pissed and have a paaarrty......'
Perfect, the very manifestation of all I love about idiots like them and you mate, and me, as Mr Vicarious, gets immense pleasure just eyeballing the entire lot and appreciating it all . . . saw the Chain at a Virgin outdoor gig in '07, I was so worried they'd be all sanitised and grown up, thank fuck I was totally off beam, dirty, fuzzy, distorted, honest, awkward, junked out, best band of the day including a brilliant New York Dolls show . . . and yes mate, LOUD !!!
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