Thursday 19 September 2024

That tricky old...

 I had NO idea

Four .. years

And a half


June 2006 " my price is.... en route we shall be seeing That Bard.. cos i have no dosh left, years of this nonsense.."

And a whole wasted 18 years thence

Was worth it for at least 

" well lass i think you cannot beat that for an intro

to real heavy metal...

visceral.. bodily... vibrating within, every beat

even if you'll never hear that again..Watchtower .. perfection.."


And there are no recordings of  it... time and time ive looked - nothing that comes close to that bodily experience 

( even if at least a lot of my diary i can look up, Cardiff June 27 2006...)

But of course... there was anyway, someone not there.

Who, made it... and rather a lot of other stufftoo...

As a lost just sixteen  year old i simply have no idea how i got there...

But knew one thing for certain unless the space cadets and vibrational curaters manifesting only preciousness, are right

One could never even dream of it in hifi 

time travel not extant



Four years too busy having the most absurdly sublime time

most of the time

all of the time most of this summer

I had no idea...

Even if i think there must be some copyright absurdity of them putting things up

Then chicken shedding out.. and hiding or maybe making it 'private' or 'unlisted' til the heat came off

 as i know

I looked it up once or twice when i encountered the beautiful peeps taxi driver  flutterin' his eyelashes 

To get petrol paid from his Nottinam' lair


In the year of our lord played a joke on everyone else but me (and him)

And it had first surfaced even before sublimity recreated itself in every day heading out on my  old bike

(reclaimed from...Suzi agrees yesteraft what a wonderful scene in 

fantasy The Fuller Monty... the 'Green' mayoral bicycles having to be restored left in their sheds 

Years and years under an unfixed shedroof

 rainy spot  and thus despite only 50 km on the tyres.. ruined and rot'.. more rust than chrome

tyres perished to the bone)

Every mid March morn  to avoid

their moans


Into 100 days of perfect summer

Someone then used a year on to 'restore' the sound even better

And there she is..or one should say there they are...


Not only the greatest backing vocalist of all time....

But fighting to get heard above the racket of the only one who REALLY ''let go' all the way.... with her fiddlin

All the way to heaven and back...

That trumped even being there is the viscerallity of mid Arena

Those dull boys' guitars and drums working on the funny bones and all other bones too

But it was impossible that for 42 years some creep had been sitting on this... 

Not sharing with a lost world of  utterly curated precious self restraint for cash and clicks

All along the only therapy you ever needed was being kept alive and

its as if the microphone is two pronged or double edged double dosed of real suplement...

 one merged with a  fiddle spring the other ... stuck right up her to recreate every little vibe as if she is in my ears all of her...... 

smiling and sirenwailing from being even better than The MAN of The Book

Ivry...

No one could have beaten Ivry... 

Until she did, and i woz ..there

All along