............Clubland
Somebody passed me a mystery fragment
Like decadence, planting its word on the street
A richter scale rumble of glamorous times
Building a beat on the underground vine
It’s somewhere near something you probably know
And people you want to be next to will go
What’s the adventure now?
Whats the mystique
What’s the new flyer that flaps in the street?
The gossip is ordered
The dance is designed
The Music is mastered
The stars are aligned
What’s the exitement now?
What’s the new sin?
Quewe in the cold, wanna dig the new grin........
So roll up roll up with your cackles and heels
and finally feel how to feel how it feels
eye up the Dandies like visual treats
Dripping with secrets in shimmering cliques
Celebrate! Celebrate! Celebrate yourselves!
Pout like you mean it cos attitude sells
whos the fat emporer mixing the beats
heads looking round better suck in those cheeks
....Dodging through elbows jonny and sue
Head for the light of the busy boys loo
"Let’s do another line, you hold the door...
Don’t kick my drink babe. Your card's on the floor..."
Melting the dancefloor soho stella
Once a checkout girl tonight Barbarella
Catches the eYE of librarian clive
Flashes a smile that MAKES HIS WHOLE NIGHT
Somewhere outside in the dark of a doorway
A feverish fumble, a fine new felloW
Fighting elastic and ripping off drastic
Mothercare mandy refuses to swallow
Back in the club it’s a messy forever
And Those with a sharp pose Cant hold it together
cos they’re pumping out tunes that your mother would know
And there’s no more panic at this disco
3am calls and the lovers of night
Spill out the doors into lucozade light
Clubland and you, with a splashing of stars
Leaking adrenaline onto parked cars
theres a sadly predictable casualty rate
of battling couples and comatose mates
theres Blood on the pavement and chips down the drain
A bag that wont hide an embarrasing stain
You wake with a brain that is all disarray
And You find what you wanted is all pissed away and
You find that your mouth tastes just like an ashtray
Combined with the fluids of some distant stranger
Who left with a whisper and now dosent answer
Another dead number, a faded desire
Now doubled over, a dog eared flyer........
Clubland....
batted its eyelashes
Opened its cash tills
Turned up its bass bins
Down its lighting
Looked so inviting
And you said yes.
Advice On Vegetarianism....
.. ..
Rice is nice....
But pasta's faster
..
UV Angel....
.. ..
I took some time for a walk on the wow....
I waste no space - I'm a busy boy now....
I found ten minutes so I had to drop in....
And sit here watching the sound of your grin....
You serve good cheer and you're never Miss Meek....
Your feet's on the ground with your tongue in your cheek....
Your head's on straight like you're going somewhere ....
And you're only 18 - hey, you're not playing fair....
.. ..
You just got back from trip in the states....
You can't stop rapping how the east coast rates....
You're full of adventures and lyrical things....
Like sleeping on subways in butterfly wings....
Two months on, you'll be off to the south ....
To study your passion with your heart in your mouth....
But stop 'fore you leave this love in the lurch....
'cos I'd like you to help me with a little research....
.. ..
Hey there baby, howâs it feel to be ....
Young cool and pretty 'cos I'm trying to see....
Hey there baby can you teach me to be ....
Young free and happy in the 21st century....
.. ..
You make your merry with a renegade crew....
The UV angels and the darklands phew....
The walls melt away from the floor when you dance ....
A cybergoth punker in a techno trance....
When you float high on a pill and a gee....
Close those eyes, tell me what do you see?....
It's your soul fun - I'm not giving you stick....
I just gotta wonder what's making you tick....
.. ..
See, my generation, we were gonna be free....
We raised ourselves on rebel energy....
We kicked out the jams and fucked off the schools....
To set our agendas and dig our own jewels....
Put our faith in a rebel equation....
Pushed alternative views of a nation....
We had the answers and we would win....
True square pegs never wanna fit in....
.. ..
Now this century's more scary than the last ....
Faith in the future's consigned to the past....
All that is valued is what you can buy....
And whoâs got the courage to fight for the shy? ....
Do I detect a little desperation....
In the style-semantics of your alien nation?....
Fantasy's cheap and you're taking it pure....
You make your escape and you make damn sure....
.. ..
Hey there baby how's it feel to be....
Young cool and trippy 'cos I'm trying to see....
Hi there happy, can you teach me to be....
Young free and pretty in the 21st century....
.. ..
It's a chaos world and we're dodging the lies....
And tryin' to hang on to the wheres and the whys....
I'll wipe your tables if you give me a clue....
'cos I wanna sparkle the way that you do....
I wanna be bolder like a fearless fire....
And focus afresh this burning desire....
I'm sick of old jokes when I'm waiting in queues ....
And kneeling to pray for the soles of my shoes....
.. ..
So pull a rough seat with your kitchen eyes....
And take a long wait off your fair size-fives....
Vent shy hopes while I borrow your smile....
Talk about culture, blind me with style ....
And as you so neatly soon decide;....
"Don't it always seem to ride;....
The grass smells better from the other side"
....
So goodâ¦so good.â¦so good.â¦too good....
.. ..
Cups ....
.. ..
.. ..
I thought you might be coming round....
So bought two new cups ....
Nice cups ....
Smart cups....
.. ..
I thought we might sip tea from them ....
Or coffee....
As a precursor to shagging....
.. ..
I don't think you'll be coming round....
The cups sit there in the cupboard....
Nice cups....
Smart cups....
Unused ....
Empty....
Backstreets
South Central in twilight. Figures walk in the shadow of St Luke's church.
We are bombed-out. We are urchins, refugees from commerce. Trooping our way to the grimy shells of warehouse-land, to the empty halls of forgotten merchants. Here we gather with wide-eyed music, to celebrate the hideous beauty inside of ourselves. Heartful hopers, alive and sweaty, desolation angels with dirty fingernails. Our vulgar volumes rattle the windows of the high-rise lofts, where cocktail stick tycoons twitch and murmur, dreaming of privatised air and marble pavements. This city of culture. This vision of future. This capital of conundrums, where streets are 'Streetsafe' and Sunday morning pavements are a Jackson Pollock canvas of vomit and bloodstains. We are weeds. The indefatigable feral strain that lives in the cracks. Backstreet culture, bringing beauty back from desolation. Marginalised, stigmatised and criminalized, our movement will not be paralysed. Keep the faith, wildflower, 'cos all empires fall, and when the high-rise bowties have vaporised, we will be back, as before, to colonise. We will revitalise the empty spaces of the culture merchants. We will not be proud. We will meet on the rooftops. We will sing in the board rooms. We will dance in the backstreets.
..