"Radio Radio!" (A Musical Memoir)

[Tangled up in Blue]

Don't you just HATE it when our games are postponed?:)

 

[Rob Noxious]

21. Lou Reed & John Cale - 'Hello, It's Me'

"Grand-dad told me how his boy Louis was a fantastic tennis player and how he liked to play with the toffs at The White Hall tennis club down near the brook at the bottom of Wellstead Gardens."

"Just thought I'd replay that bit from earlier Johnny as I was musing on my grand-dad's reminiscences of how Louis or 'Shorty,' as he called himself when he went to the States, would send him postcards each year from the tournaments at Flushing Meadows. He lived down in neigbouring Brooklyn apparently, right out in Coney Island as far as the F train would go. Stilwell Avenue, I think it was called. My grand-dad said he embraced the dream fervently and even signed up to go out to Vietnam in the sixties. No draft-dodging for Shorty Woodgrange, no sir! He came back in a bit of a bad way though. Physically he was fine, very fit, no problem. But mentally he was prone to wild mood swings, they said, and he needed to get help. Grand-dad didn't hear from him in nearly a couple of years and when he did write again in the late sixties, his writing style had changed. It was repetitive and it seemed like he was quoting mantras. It sounded really weird, Johnny, and I don't think my grand-dad ever really understood what was going on for Shorty. Well, to cut a long story short, I decided to see if I could get some answers and that's where my old mate Pete Thomas came in. You remember Pete, don't you? We used to call him 'Perv' at school because of the time when his brother Scott caught him in an onanistic mood swing all his own back at their place at the bottom of Wellstead Gardens. Poor old Pete - never lived it down. I mean he was only thirteen at the time - what's a boy to do, eh? Well, Pete's band, Snide, they got a bit of a following in NYC and he would spend a few months there each tour. He checked out some of the places that Shorty was last seen in and sent me some tapes of his findings. I'm not going to play them all for you, but I've compiled some selections from them and spliced them with a bit of music to break up the narrative. I think they probably tell more about Pete than they do my dad, but it makes you wonder about the situations people can get into if they're not careful. Right, just got to do a tape-to-tape jobby here. Back in a mo ... in the meantime, this one's for Shorty and it kind of sums up those days pretty well. No need to introduce it for you, you old hippies know every protest song going ..."

" stuff from old Bazza there, Johnny, and I can see you writhing on your Albanian rug to that one! Ok, we're all set for Pete's little adventures across the pond. Action, tapes, roll 'em ..."

"Hey Cap, yeah it's me - your pal Pete giving you the beat straight from the NYC street. Love this groovy little dictaphone you gave me, but I've been given a look or two by a few dudes. One guy round Mermaid Avenue even followed me for a bit seeing what I was doing. Guess I gotta be careful where I walk and talk, it's not like we're in sleepy old Wellstead any more. OK, I'm out in Coney... just stopped at Nathan's for one of their famous franks. This place is like a run-down version of Southend seafront, Cap. Guess it must have been something in its heyday and I can see from the old pics why your old man made it home. Just going through some of the postcards and letters he sent your grand-dad. Jeez, how old is this stuff? Something in here about the 'Shorefront Y' which is just off The Boardwalk. You ever see 'Warriors', Cap? Now that was a film. If you didn't know, the last scene is set on the beach beyond The Boardwalk. I love that strip, man... it's like walking on the Pier but a whole lot wider and there's all sorts of groovers on it. Joggers, dudes on reclining bikes, plain old Joes like me on Shanks' pony and the old folks sat looking out to sea. Anyway, what say I quit gassing and get going? Speak soon, old buddy..."

 

[NobbySnide2]

" stuff from old Bazza there, Johnny, and I can see you writhing on your Albanian rug to that one! Ok, we're all set for Pete's little adventures across the pond. Action, tapes, roll 'em ..."

"Hey Cap, yeah it's me - your pal Pete giving you the beat straight from the NYC street. Love this groovy little dictaphone you gave me, but I've been given a look or two by a few dudes. One guy round Mermaid Avenue even followed me for a bit seeing what I was doing. Guess I gotta be careful where I walk and talk, it's not like we're in sleepy old Wellstead any more. OK, I'm out in Coney... just stopped at Nathan's for one of their famous franks. This place is like a run-down version of Southend seafront, Cap. Guess it must have been something in its heyday and I can see from the old pics why your old man made it home. Just going through some of the postcards and letters he sent your grand-dad. Jeez, how old is this stuff? Something in here about the 'Shorefront Y' which is just off The Boardwalk. You ever see 'Warriors', Cap? Now that was a film. If you didn't know, the last scene is set on the beach beyond The Boardwalk. I love that strip, man... it's like walking on the Pier but a whole lot wider and there's all sorts of groovers on it. Joggers, dudes on reclining bikes, plain old Joes like me on Shanks' pony and the old folks sat looking out to sea. Anyway, what say I quit gassing and get going? Speak soon, old buddy..."

Warriors..come out to playeeyay!

 

[Rob Noxious]

Your Song - 'Gonna Make You A Star'

The opening scene - 'Five Years':

A wintry harbour. The wind is whistling, getting louder in its intensity. We hear the sound of a man coughing. We can just hear him saying " ...five lovely years. That's what she said, we've had five lovely years." His voice sounds strained and choked. The wind picks up again and we can hear the waves crashing against a (harbour) wall nearby. David Bowie's 'Five Years' starts playing, the refrain of 'five years, stuck on my eyes, five years what a surprise' (towards the end of the track). The music is interrupted by the sound of tyres screeching to a halt. A door slams shut and we hear the sound of heavy brogued heels coming closer.

Man with heels coming closer: Lugwin ..y'alright? You look terrible! Woss up mate?

Lugwin: Five years, that's what she said. We've had five lovely years. The last thing she wants to do is hurt me. Now that's it, what am I gonna do?
(sounds tearful)

Man: Whoa, steady mate. Look, why don't you come in the car, get outta this cold and wet. Come on, up you get.

We hear the wind again, the sound of a heavy man a bit breathless getting up and then the calm man saying, "It's okay, Lugwin, look just take my arm fella." Footsteps retreat as the waves crash in again. We can just hear the calm man saying, "Wouldn't wanna be at sea tonight."

Scene shifts to car door opening, then the calm man saying, "Just slip in there, Lug ...you all in?...good" as the door shuts again.

Lugwin is sniffling and coughing again as the calm man lets himself in on the other side of the car. He says, "Right, that's better. Just sit back, mate. Relax your shoulders. Good. Now what's happened?"

Lugwin (more composed): It's Donna. She says it's over. She says I won't be happy with her. We've been together for five lovely years. Now that's that - what am I gonna do, mate? (getting more anxious again)

Man: Well, first things first. Look, I'm really sorry Lugwin. I've got some space on the ship if you wanna come back with me. You look like you could do with some food inside ya too. I'll rustle up a fry-up and we'll have a bit of a chat. See, I've an idea I wanna run by you...

'Five Years' comes back in again (reprise of above lines) as the car starts up and pulls away.


Scene 2 - 'Your Song':

The sound of hoovering, the phone goes. A woman sighs and mutters and the hoover stops. We hear her stomp off into the distance as the phone rings.

Woman: (in irritated hard voice) Yes? (brief silence whilst listening, then adopts a softer tone) Oh, glad it's you. Jeez, can't believe how much blimmin' mess that idiot left. Been trying to sort the place out all day. Look, it's best I meet you up on the coastpath. Yes, that quiet spot - where the seat is. You know - near the memorial, just past the Wrestling Fields. Yeah, ok, I’ll bring it. See you there in an hour. Oh, don't forget. Don't stop in the village - go the back way, where the farm track leads onto the coastpath. (Pause) Yeah, good, see you then.

We hear the woman walk back down the hall and then the sound of a cat maiowing. Her voice mellows as she says "Oh Oscar, don't worry sweetie. I'll look after you. You must have been scared of the hoover. Come and have some milk. Think I could do with a cuppa and a sit down myself. I think it's nearly time for 'Your Song.' We hear a radio being turned on and an enthusiastic male voice proclaiming " ...FM247 this is Radio Binfield and this is Your Song ..." as the lines from the Elton John song play, 'and you can tell everybody that this is your song...'


Scene 3 - 'My Ship Is Coming In':

The sound of frying, eggs being cracked on the side of the pan and the Walker Brothers song ('My Ship...') in the background. The voice of the calm man calls out: "Didn't take you long to sort out some music mate!"

Lugwin (from a distance): Ha no! If nothing else, at least I've got my music. You've got a fantastic record collection, you know.

Calm man: Yep, all part of my misspent youth. Hey, did I hear right that you've done some dee-jaying in your time?

Lugwin: (sadly) Yeah, I did before I came down here. Gone by the wayside a bit since I've been at Donna's.

Calm man: Oh well. Maybe you can get back doing it again now.

Lugwin: Doubt it. All my gear's back up the line, in my brother's loft. Got a few things to sort out before I can worry about that though.

Calm man: Well, no need to worry about that tonight. Like I say, you’re welcome to stay on board. Bit rough outside, but steady enough in here.

We hear the sound of plates being put on the table as the calm man says, "Lugwin, could you just move those records? Thanks. Right, sit yourself down and nosh up, old son."

Lugwin: "Thanks, mate. I really appreciate this. Hey, that's good. I've missed a good old greasy spoon. No more of Donna’s stuffed aubergines for me…

Calm man: Ha – you’re sounding a bit perkier. You enjoy it, old son! Hey, just a thought - you know I've got some turntables and all the gear that could get you dee-jaying again, don't you?

Lugwin: Really? What, don't you use them then?

Calm man: Oh, they get used all right, don't you worry. Hey, good choice of record, by the way. Reminds me of my mum. Whenever I wanted anything, she used to say, "Just wait until your ship comes in, son."

Lugwin (wistfully) Yeah, my mum said that too.

Music comes to the fore, the bit where Scott Walker goes into the 'My Ship...' chorus.

Calm man: You know that song by Madness, Lug – ‘Our House’?

Lugwin: (chewing) Mm, yeah – what about it?

Calm man: There’s a crackin’ line in there about mums – where it goes ‘she’s the one they’re going to miss in lots of ways.’

Lugwin: Oh yeah…song was all innocent, then took a twist at the end. Clever that. Amazing some of the things you can find in pop songs, eh?

Calm man: You’re not kidding. Anyway, talking of which, I got this idea…


Scene 4 – ‘The Cat’s In The Cradle’: we hear the whistling wind again, waves in the distance (not as violent as previously) … then footsteps, slightly muffled.

Woman: Sorry I’m late, sat down listening to the radio and was in a world of my own for a bit.

Calm man: No worries. I’ve been in my own world too. I love it up here, overlooking the sea. Makes me think of the old days.

Woman: Ha! You old sea dog! You’ve never really got over giving up the ocean waves, have you?

Man: No, they say it stays with you, long after you’ve left the mob. Still, I’m never far from the water, as you know.

Woman: Yes, indeed. Your ship looks majestic in the harbour. All the villagers are talking about it … saying ‘what’s that ‘Southern Star’ doing there?’ You’ve certainly got their tongues rattling up at The Atlantic. You’ve caused a stir, Mr. Producer, you really have.

Man: Well, I certainly hope to. (Getting slightly more animated now). Donna, you know when we get the Lottery funding, this could be big news for Harbour Head and the towns nearby.

Woman: Oh yes, it sounds great for everyone.

Man: I reckon. Anyway, you’ve brought our little friend, I see.

Woman: Yes. He hates being moved. Had to give him a sedative that the vet prescribed. Otherwise he’d be wailing his head off, driving me poxy mad.

Man: Oh, Lugwin will be pleased. He’s not stopped talking about his little Oscar.

Woman: Hmmph! Swore he loved that cat more than me. Anyway, how’s he doing?

Man: Very well, as it happens. Put him behind a mike and he’s a different man.

Harry Chapin’s chorus of ‘…and the cat’s in the cradle …’ comes in as scene ends with the wind whistling in the background.


Scene 5 – ‘Stranger In The House’: waves splashing gently on a hard surface. Sound of men talking, getting excited, difficult to make out the words, then comes into focus with the voice of the calm man again…

Calm man: No, just put him there, Lugwin. Good. Ready now?

Lugwin: (animated) You betcha by golly wow, Mr P. This show’s ready to roll and your Emperor’s kickin’ ! Can you turn up the sound level a bit, I wanna crank this up man!

Calm man (laughing): You silly so and so! Ok, let’s away! Roll ‘em …

The sound of a jingle ‘247 national’ comes in and we hear Lugwin’s voice, confident and enthusiastic, talking over the jingle’s music.

Lugwin: Good morning everyone. This is your Emperor and this is a great day for solid gold Radio Binfield FM247. We’re not only able to broadcast live from The Southern Star officially now here in Harbour Head, but I’ve got my dear little cat Oscar to help me with my shows too. And here he is!

We hear the sound of a contented purr into the mike.

Lugwin: What a dear little fella Oscar is! Well, Tony Sideburns had his dog Arnold and your Emperor needs his little Oscar. Ok, let’s kick off with one of your songs. Here’s one for a woman I know who brought Oscar into my life. It’s actually her record, but I’m sure she won’t mind me borrowing it for a little while longer. This is Radio Binfield, I’m your Emperor and this is ‘Stranger In The House’…

The record starts and we hear the opening lines of 'Stranger In The House' (the Elvis Costello version) …’this never was one of the great romances…’



The End (ish)

Here's another one for this 'Radio Drama' course I'm doing:-

RADIO DRAMA – ‘GONNA MAKE YOU A STAR’
(adapted from the novel, 'FM247: This Is Radio Binfield!')

SFX – MUSIC David Essex song: intro of ‘GMYAS’

Female: I’ll never forget the first time I heard The Emperor on FM247, In fact, I’ve taped all of his shows …

SFX – click of ‘play’ button on cassette recorder

MUSIC – ‘247 national’ jingle, then lines from Elton John’s ‘Your Song’ (‘…and you can tell everybody that this is your song …’)

Emp: This is solid gold Radio Binfield and now it’s time for ‘Your Song.’ This one is for a special man who came into my life when your Emperor was at an all-time low. I don’t want to embarrass him, but I can’t ever listen to this sensational smash hit number one from 1974 now without thinking of my Producer. Bear with me my fellow Binfielders as we re-create that scene when he told me that he was going to make me a star … in the meantime, here’s the one and only Mr. David Essex!

MUSIC – ‘GMYAS’

Emp: And there I was all of a daze, sitting on that little green bench overlooking Harbour Head. It was a stormy night and your Emperor was all alone, with not even my dear little Oscar to keep me company …

SFX – cat miaows

Emp: Thank you, Oscar. Don’t worry, old son. Those lonely days are long gone now that we’ve got Radio Binfield. Anyway, I’m looking out to sea, wondering what I’m going to do with the rest of my life and then I see The Producer sidling his bulky frame towards me. And then he says …

Prod: Hey up Emp. Whassamatter, mate? Y’alright?

Emp: And no, I wasn’t alright. I was homeless, upset, and I had nowhere to go. But The Producer, well he came into his own that night and ushered me over to his beaten up old rustbucket and clipped me into the back seat…

SFX – seatbelt clips together , door shuts and car engine starts up

Emp: …then we drive off and he puts on the car radio.

SFX – radio turns on MUSIC ‘GMYAS’ comes on, halfway through the song

Emp: Then he’s looking at me in the rear view mirror and says …

Prod: Hey Emp, do you like this song?

Emp: So I nod, say a few things about David Essex – his knowing wink, the twinkle in his eye, his cheeky grin, how I wanted to be like him when I was a boy – and then I realise that The Producer is hanging on my every word. Then he says …

Prod: I love it when you talk about music, the places it takes you to, how the public love to have their emotions stirred by reminders of the hits of yesteryear.

Emp: And then I’m joining in, saying how the best songs not only take you through the good times, but they’re there for you in the bad times as well. Then while David is flashing us his boyish smile once again, The Producer looks all earnest in the rear view and says …

Prod: Emp, I’m gonna make you a star.

Emp: And at that, I just burst out laughing. Me a star? All I do is talk about my music. But he meant it, my fellow Binfielders. And here I am before you now on solid gold FM247, with you, me and ‘Your Song.’ And now specifically, his song. Thank you for bearing with our little drama here on solid gold Radio Binfield. Remember, my gift is my song and this one’s for you.

SFX – MUSIC Elton John ‘Your Song’ line – ‘my gift is my song and this one’s for you.’

Female: I hope you enjoyed that little excerpt from my ‘Imperial Archives.’ We’ll be playing another ‘Your Song’ from The Emperor here on Penwith Radio on February 30th …


FM247: This Is Radio Binfield!

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_ss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=fm247&x=19&y=23

 

[Rob Noxious]

22. Lou Reed - 'Coney Island Baby'

" stuff from old Bazza there, Johnny, and I can see you writhing on your Albanian rug to that one! Ok, we're all set for Pete's little adventures across the pond. Action, tapes, roll 'em ..."

"Hey Cap, yeah it's me - your pal Pete giving you the beat straight from the NYC street. Love this groovy little dictaphone you gave me, but I've been given a look or two by a few dudes. One guy round Mermaid Avenue even followed me for a bit seeing what I was doing. Guess I gotta be careful where I walk and talk, it's not like we're in sleepy old Wellstead any more. OK, I'm out in Coney... just stopped at Nathan's for one of their famous franks. This place is like a run-down version of Southend seafront, Cap. Guess it must have been something in its heyday and I can see from the old pics why your old man made it home. Just going through some of the postcards and letters he sent your grand-dad. Jeez, how old is this stuff? Something in here about the 'Shorefront Y' which is just off The Boardwalk. You ever see 'Warriors', Cap? Now that was a film. If you didn't know, the last scene is set on the beach beyond The Boardwalk. I love that strip, man... it's like walking on the Pier but a whole lot wider and there's all sorts of groovers on it. Joggers, dudes on reclining bikes, plain old Joes like me on Shanks' pony and the old folks sat looking out to sea. Anyway, what say I quit gassing and get going? Speak soon, old buddy..."

“What’s that Lou line from ‘Coney Island Baby,’ Cap … ‘see the city is a funny place, something like a circus and a sewer’ … well, when you come out of Nathan’s and head towards the front, you pass this abandoned parking lot on your right. When I first saw it, I thought this was where all the old junked cars, trailers and furniture came to rest, but it was only when I saw a guy coming out of what looked like an old train carriage towards a beaten-up old sofa that I realised people lived there! The richest country in the world, but it has its desperadoes too...still can’t get over this place sometimes. Right, it’s a bit safer now, so here we are just passing the Astroland Amusement Park on our left and you hear that sound? Well, just before we hit The Boardwalk, there’s a baseball batting range where a couple of guys are whacking balls for all they’re worth. I love it when boys keep swinging, Cap, I really do, just out there shooting the breeze, not a care in the world. Talking of which and luckily for me, there’s a nice cool breeze coming across The Boardwalk, with the Atlantic over to our right and The Ramones' very own Rockaway Beach in the distance. Over on the left is a tenement block and guess what, mate, just along from there on our right, there’s a pier! A small one compared to what we’re used to, but a pier all the same! You probably heard those joggers pass us by, puffing away and pounding The Boardwalk. Ha … listen … I just heard my first Albanian voices around here … there’s an old couple on a bench looking out to sea. Your old man wrote that they called this area 'Little Tirana' because of all the Albanians that live here. Uh-oh, time to turn the walky-talky off for a bit, Cap … later!”

 

[Rob Noxious]

23. Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band - 'My Home Town'

Well hello again, Tony...you may not have been away, but I have. Yep, all the way to the seafront as a matter of fact. Mrs. S escorted me on a little 'Resocialisation' venture to check out my 'activities of daily living skills' to see if I'm ready to hit the world out there once more. Well, you'll be pleased to know that I can still buy a train ticket without any problem and cross the road without getting run over by the boy-racers. Anyway, I hear that you used to come to Southend in the eighties with your 'Sex and Soul Show' - too late to appear at our once-wonderful Kursaal, no doubt. It's a ten-pin bowling alley now, Tone - though I can still see how it used to look in its heyday just by the entrance concourse, when me and Nobby Snide used to go to those Saturday gigs in the mid-seventies. Thin Lizzy, Eddie & The Hot Rods, the Feelgoods - they all played there, Tone. My producer, Canvey, says he saw Rod Stewart and The Faces there too. Would have loved to have been there for that one. Don't know if these boys Mott The Hoople played there, Tony, but this song says it all about those days for me..."...and now the kids pay a couple of quid 'cause they need it all the same, it's all a game, a grown-up game." A couple of quid to see some fine bands back then? Try telling the kids of today that, Tone - they won't believe you. Well, I remember those Saturday gigs and it was true. It was a great time to be a teenager, alive and kicking at the Kursaal. I'll never forget those days, Tony - floating along the seafront before the gig, checking out who was on the way there, a quick one in The Minerva where those scary teds used to hang out and then a couple in The Kursaal's bar, maybe one or two more if the support was cack. I still dream about The Kursaal, Tone. The smell of afghans and joss sticks and the denim clad ruffians that used to frequent it. Happy days Tony, but part of me died when they stopped having bands there. I wish they could have kept it open, I really do. If there's one place where I wish I could be transported back to, it's there, late '76. But there's no point going over it again and again, Tone. It's gone. Doc McNasty says I've got to move on now. But you know, I don't want to Tone. 'Cause I belong there. And you know, just like you on Radio Fun back then, I think you do too. We're men out of time, Tony. But guess what? We've got our music and these old records will never die when there's jocks like me and you to keep the faith and our dreams alive. So this one's for me, you and those Saturday night giggers at The Kursaal. Do you remember the Saturday gigs? We do...

"It's all very well looking back Tony, but I've spent a long time doing that in recent years and I'm not sure how healthy that is. Mrs S is now my Assertive Outreach Worker since I've been holed up here at Pier View Court and though Hippy Johnny, the Sheltered Housing Support Worker, is a good 'listening ear' when I get my down days, it's Mrs S who gets me going in more ways than one. She's told me that the only way to get out of the procrastination that I sometimes succumb to is 'to get going,' 'get busy,' 'get doing things' instead of waiting for things to happen. That's good advice, Tone, as otherwise I'd be tempted to retreat into the soft comforts of a 'duvet day' and turn away from the world for a little while. Anyway, you'll be pleased to know that I've 'got busy' again by recording a few more tracks and tales for you. This record always hits a nerve for me and it was playing on my walkman when I did a reccie around my home town just the other day. Mrs S said that I should keep a record of my thoughts and feelings as I went around some of the old places. So there I was heading up Hamlet Court Road, the afternoon February sun actually quite warm at times before an occasional icy breeze made me wrap my Southend scarf a bit tighter around my neck. I have a special fondness for Westcliff, Tone - you know the area, you used to do a turn at The Cliffs back in the eighties - as it remains much like it always has. A little bit shabby, but it's real. It's also the area where I grew up and where my mum and dad had their first place together. When dad's family came down from the East End, they lived in Shakespeare Drive apparently, where I go to watch my beloved Shrimpers from the West Stand of Roots Hall. Dad and his brothers had to camp out in the garden so their parents could rent rooms to lodgers. The boys would go down to Westcliff station and pick up their luggage for them to get some pocket money, so mum said. She said they were hard times and that my generation didn't know how lucky we were. She was at her happiest working at Runwell in the hospital shop but that's another story for another day, Tone.

Anyway, Tone, before I know it, I've walked all the way down to Fairfax Drive and I'm heading up towards Prittlewell Chase, where I can see the hospital where she died. I head past there and onto Carlton Avenue to get a glimpse of my old school, Earls Hall. I loved that school, Tone, and the innocence that accompanied those days ... playground football, British Bulldog, swimming in that pool that was built in the sixties when I was there, chucking the disgusting bread and butter pudding under the dining room table so I could be allowed to go out and play more footy after the school dinner 'sitting.' Those days seep into my dreams sometimes, Tone - I just can't get them out of my head on some days too. So, when I stop outside the old house just on the corner of Carlton Avenue, where it meets Bridgewater Drive and Southbourne Grove, I steel myself to go in. There used to be plastic flamingoes loitering on the ponds outside there, Tone - they were hilarious. Now the ponds have been filled in, cemented and shaled over. I hang around in the reception area of the Doctor's surgery which is there now and I see myself in the mirror. I'm looking pale and somewhat stunned. That mirror on that toilet door is still there after all these years. The Receptionist calls over asking if she can help. I go towards her, where she is stood in what was a little lounge where me and my brothers used to have some great play and not so play fights, and I say 'sorry, just popping in to have a look at the old place. My dad built this back in '62. That mirror is still there from those days.' She gave me a kind smile, Tone, but I knew I had to leave now. You can go back, but you can never stay."

 

[GrumpyBlue]

"It's all very well looking back Tony, but I've spent a long time doing that in recent years and I'm not sure how healthy that is. Mrs S is now my Assertive Outreach Worker since I've been holed up here at Pier View Court and though Hippy Johnny, the Sheltered Housing Support Worker, is a good 'listening ear' when I get my down days, it's Mrs S who gets me going in more ways than one. She's told me that the only way to get out of the procrastination that I sometimes succumb to is 'to get going,' 'get busy,' 'get doing things' instead of waiting for things to happen. That's good advice, Tone, as otherwise I'd be tempted to retreat into the soft comforts of a 'duvet day' and turn away from the world for a little while. Anyway, you'll be pleased to know that I've 'got busy' again by recording a few more tracks and tales for you. This record always hits a nerve for me and it was playing on my walkman when I did a reccie around my home town just the other day. Mrs S said that I should keep a record of my thoughts and feelings as I went around some of the old places. So there I was heading up Hamlet Court Road, the afternoon February sun actually quite warm at times before an occasional icy breeze made me wrap my Southend scarf a bit tighter around my neck. I have a special fondness for Westcliff, Tone - you know the area, you used to do a turn at The Cliffs back in the eighties - as it remains much like it always has. A little bit shabby, but it's real. It's also the area where I grew up and where my mum and dad had their first place together. When dad's family came down from the East End, they lived in Shakespeare Drive apparently, where I go to watch my beloved Shrimpers from the West Stand of Roots Hall. Dad and his brothers had to camp out in the garden so their parents could rent rooms to lodgers. The boys would go down to Westcliff station and pick up their luggage for them to get some pocket money, so mum said. She said they were hard times and that my generation didn't know how lucky we were. She was at her happiest working at Runwell in the hospital shop but that's another story for another day, Tone.

Anyway, Tone, before I know it, I've walked all the way down to Fairfax Drive and I'm heading up towards Prittlewell Chase, where I can see the hospital where she died. I head past there and onto Carlton Avenue to get a glimpse of my old school, Earls Hall. I loved that school, Tone, and the innocence that accompanied those days ... playground football, British Bulldog, swimming in that pool that was built in the sixties when I was there, chucking the disgusting bread and butter pudding under the dining room table so I could be allowed to go out and play more footy after the school dinner 'sitting.' Those days seep into my dreams sometimes, Tone - I just can't get them out of my head on some days too. So, when I stop outside the old house just on the corner of Carlton Avenue, where it meets Bridgewater Drive and Southbourne Grove, I steel myself to go in. There used to be plastic flamingoes loitering on the ponds outside there, Tone - they were hilarious. Now the ponds have been filled in, cemented and shaled over. I hang around in the reception area of the Doctors surgery which is there now and I see myself in the mirror. I'm looking pale and somewhat stunned. That mirror on that toilet door is still there after all these years. The Receptionist calls over asking if she can help. I go towards her, where she is stood in what was a little lounge where me and my brothers used to have some great play and not so play fights, and I say 'sorry, just popping in to have a look at the old place. My dad built this back in '62. That mirror is still there from those days.' She gave me a kind smile, Tone, but I knew I had to leave now. You can go back, but you can never stay."

Good one Rob

 

[Rob Noxious]

Good one Rob

Thanks, Rich ... thought I'd use a bit of real life repartee from my last trip home. Couldn't believe that full length mirror in the hallway is still there. Sent a shiver right through me for reasons you can imagine. :stunned:

 

[Tangled up in Blue]

Thanks, Rich ... thought I'd use a bit of real life repartee from my last trip home. Couldn't believe that full length mirror in the hallway is still there. Sent a shiver right through me for reasons you can imagine. :stunned:

Interesting, as you say, that the toilet mirror is still there.Not exactly "the stuff that dreams are made of." Nightmares perhaps.:stunned:

 

[Rob Noxious]

Interesting, as you say, that the toilet mirror is still there.Not exactly "the stuff that dreams are made of." Nightmares perhaps.:stunned:

Not many ... made me think of that old Joe Jackson song (from one of the early albums, either 'I'm The Man' or 'Beat Crazy' IIRC) called 'In Every Dream Home, A Nightmare.' :'(

 

[Tangled up in Blue]

Not many ... made me think of that old Joe Jackson song (from one of the early albums, either 'I'm The Man' or 'Beat Crazy' IIRC) called 'In Every Dream Home, A Nightmare.' :'(

Not Springsteen's (In) My father's house? :)

 

[Rob Noxious]

Not Springsteen's (In) My father's house? :)

Coincidentally, I was playing that yesterday morning in the van - quite close to the time that you wrote this! :O A great song: Bruce goes biblical ...

 

[Tangled up in Blue]

Coincidentally, I was playing that yesterday morning in the van - quite close to the time that you wrote this! :O A great song: Bruce goes biblical ...

Used to use it a lot in the Language Lab back in the day.A highly literate song from the Boss.:)

 

[Rob Noxious]

24. The Byrds - 'Goin' Back'

“What’s that Lou line from ‘Coney Island Baby,’ Cap … ‘see the city is a funny place, something like a circus and a sewer’ … well, when you come out of Nathan’s and head towards the front, you pass this abandoned parking lot on your right. When I first saw it, I thought this was where all the old junked cars, trailers and furniture came to rest, but it was only when I saw a guy coming out of what looked like an old train carriage towards a beaten-up old sofa that I realised people lived there! The richest country in the world, but it has its desperadoes too...still can’t get over this place sometimes. Right, it’s a bit safer now, so here we are just passing the Astroland Amusement Park on our left and you hear that sound? Well, just before we hit The Boardwalk, there’s a baseball batting range where a couple of guys are whacking balls for all they’re worth. I love it when boys keep swinging, Cap, I really do, just out there shooting the breeze, not a care in the world. Talking of which and luckily for me, there’s a nice cool breeze coming across The Boardwalk, with the Atlantic over to our right and The Ramones' very own Rockaway Beach in the distance. Over on the left is a tenement block and guess what, mate, just along from there on our right, there’s a pier! A small one compared to what we’re used to, but a pier all the same! You probably heard those joggers pass us by, puffing away and pounding The Boardwalk. Ha … listen … I just heard my first Albanian voices around here … there’s an old couple on a bench looking out to sea. Your old man wrote that they called this area 'Little Tirana' because of all the Albanians that live here. Uh-oh, time to turn the walky-talky off for a bit, Cap … later!”

Welcome back, Johnny - this is your Captain speaking. I've just put Pete on pause out there in Coney Island as I'm keen to share this moment with you. Hear that train? Yep, well I'm back here in dear old Leigh-on-Sea. Down at the station to be exact. Did you just hear that whistle piercing the balmy evening air as I watch the train lazily chug east? What about all the footsteps coming up the stairs? Here they are Johnny, a collection of drooped shoulders tramping wearily up from the platform to the main concourse. Let's just wait till they pass --- hey, I'm getting some funny looks talking into this dictaphone to you --- it's not an advert for working in the City you know, I've not seen so much collective grimacing since I was in those double Physics lessons on Monday mornings at Westcliff. Do you remember that Physics teacher 'Dick' Barton and that suit he must have had since 1952? Well, I almost think that degree of retro is quite cool now. OK, Johnny, that seems to be the last of the stragglers --- what say we hop down to the platform and check it out? Bear with me as I watch these steps - I'm not quite as nimble as I used to be. I'm looking out for that nylon meshed fence that 'Spart Paintbrush' used to vault over as the train pulled in on those nights after the Saturday gigs coming back from The Kursaal. He'd do anything to get some kudos for bunking the fare. Well, I can still remember that fence even if it's no longer there - it's ingrained in my mind and conveys a small but precious reminder of our youth and also the distance between today and yesterday. I find it difficult to believe that that wayward street urchin is now the head honcho of a vast Care Emporium and has been knighted for his services to 'Community Care.' Sir Rupert Paignton - who would have thought it? I know he's effectively your boss now, Johnny and I wouldn't want to compromise your position, but it's really strange how things work out and I often wonder how you feel about being part of his 'Cash from Care' Consortium. Don't get me wrong, I know we've all got to sell our souls to survive sometimes but I've always admired your integrity - even if I didn't always show it - so I guess I'm wondering how you reconcile yourself to this particular deal with the devil.

Well, we better move on Johnny as I see the guy behind the ticket counter seems to be giving me 'the billy' and having used up a lot of the Southend Constabulary's time in previous adventures, I'd best not linger at the station anymore. Ha - 'the Southend Constabulary' - I just can't get out of the habit of talking in old money. That was one of my grand-dad's biggest bugbears - the day the Federal Government sucked Southend's police force up into some amorphous Essex County Region. That was the beginning of the end of his love affair with the force. After that his job was cluttered with regulations, procedures and quality assurance commissars from 'Region.' He became distant and disenchanted - he even used to forego the overtime on Sundays, a good payday - and I remember him sat silently in our little lounge listening to his Louis Armstrong records whilst I tried vainly to fill my time in the void between 'The Big Match' and Fluffy Oldman's chart run-downs on those lengthy Sunday afternoons. Poor old Jack - he was at his happiest down here on a Friday night when he could crack a few heads without a worry in the world - sending those Canvey Island kids packing from the Old Town back across the estuary via those 'Wrestling Fields' en route to Hadleigh Castle. I can picture him now, like me peering into the railway station, just checking to see that everything was alright before retreading that well-worn beat into the Old Town. That's where he met the love of his life, Miss Ruby Thomas, one night at Ye Olde Smack Inn at the eastern end of those cobbled streets. Hey Johnny, let me take you on a walk down by the cocklesheds. Can you smell the sweet scent of seaweed? Ah, Leigh-on-Sea, how I love thee --- and I am just so delighted to be going back home.”

 

[Rob Noxious]

25. Dr. Feelgood - 'Ninety-Nine And A Half (Won't Do)'

Welcome back, Johnny - this is your Captain speaking. I've just put Pete on pause out there in Coney Island as I'm keen to share this moment with you. Hear that train? Yep, well I'm back here in dear old Leigh-on-Sea. Down at the station to be exact. Did you just hear that whistle piercing the balmy evening air as I watch the train lazily chug east? What about all the footsteps coming up the stairs? Here they are Johnny, a collection of drooped shoulders tramping wearily up from the platform to the main concourse. Let's just wait till they pass --- hey, I'm getting some funny looks talking into this dictaphone to you --- it's not an advert for working in the City you know, I've not seen so much collective grimacing since I was in those double Physics lessons on Monday mornings at Westcliff. Do you remember that Physics teacher 'Dick' Barton and that suit he must have had since 1952? Well, I almost think that degree of retro is quite cool now. OK, Johnny, that seems to be the last of the stragglers --- what say we hop down to the platform and check it out? Bear with me as I watch these steps - I'm not quite as nimble as I used to be. I'm looking out for that nylon meshed fence that 'Spart Paintbrush' used to vault over as the train pulled in on those nights after the Saturday gigs coming back from The Kursaal. He'd do anything to get some kudos for bunking the fare. Well, I can still remember that fence even if it's no longer there - it's ingrained in my mind and conveys a small but precious reminder of our youth and also the distance between today and yesterday. I find it difficult to believe that that wayward street urchin is now the head honcho of a vast Care Emporium and has been knighted for his services to 'Community Care.' Sir Rupert Paignton - who would have thought it? I know he's effectively your boss now, Johnny and I wouldn't want to compromise your position, but it's really strange how things work out and I often wonder how you feel about being part of his 'Cash from Care' Consortium. Don't get me wrong, I know we've all got to sell our souls to survive sometimes but I've always admired your integrity - even if I didn't always show it - so I guess I'm wondering how you reconcile yourself to this particular deal with the devil.

Well, we better move on Johnny as I see the guy behind the ticket counter seems to be giving me 'the billy' and having used up a lot of the Southend Constabulary's time in previous adventures, I'd best not linger at the station anymore. Ha - 'the Southend Constabulary' - I just can't get out of the habit of talking in old money. That was one of my grand-dad's biggest bugbears - the day the Federal Government sucked Southend's police force up into some amorphous Essex County Region. That was the beginning of the end of his love affair with the force. After that his job was cluttered with regulations, procedures and quality assurance commissars from 'Region.' He became distant and disenchanted - he even used to forego the overtime on Sundays, a good payday - and I remember him sat silently in our little lounge listening to his Louis Armstrong records whilst I tried vainly to fill my time in the void between 'The Big Match' and Fluffy Oldman's chart run-downs on those lengthy Sunday afternoons. Poor old Jack - he was at his happiest down here on a Friday night when he could crack a few heads without a worry in the world - sending those Canvey Island kids packing from the Old Town back across the estuary via those 'Wrestling Fields' en route to Hadleigh Castle. I can picture him now, like me peering into the railway station, just checking to see that everything was alright before retreading that well-worn beat into the Old Town. That's where he met the love of his life, Miss Ruby Thomas, one night at Ye Olde Smack Inn at the eastern end of those cobbled streets. Hey Johnny, let me take you on a walk down by the cocklesheds. Can you smell the sweet scent of seaweed? Ah, Leigh-on-Sea, how I love thee --- and I am just so delighted to be going back home.”

"Before we head into The Old Town, Johnny, I'd like to take you to the front of the station. Just around here and over to the left is a narrow footpath. Sometimes my grandad would escort his charges down there and offer them a smoke. As you know, Johnny, he was a huge man with granite block hands so not many people said 'no' to him. He'd direct any "wrong 'uns" - as he called them - to a kissing gate about a hundred yards down that path from where they'd set off into the open expanse of 'The Wrestling Fields.' His piercing blue eyes used to light up whenever he talked about 'the fields.' That's where Southend and Canvey men used to settle their differences for the sake of local pride and entertainment. When Jack Woodgrange took his hostages down there though, it was a private affair where there would be only one outcome. He spared me the details, Johnny, but he would always --- I repeat always --- finish the story with these same words, "... an' I told 'im if I ever saw 'im 'round these parts again, 'e'd have my size thirteens up 'is jacksie to the sixth lacehole!" He really used to love his work before the advent of the men from Region and their "damn blasted procedures and checklists" as he used to say. He saw himself as a guardian of the waterfront and a sentinel of decency - the moment he became shackled by paperwork and "the clipboard brigade" was the day he fell out of love with 'the Force.' It's a shame you only saw a hollow shell of the man he used to be, Johnny, when you took care of him on the old folks' unit at Pier View. But back in his heyday, PC Jack Woodgrange was one of Southend's finest. He ran the tightest ship you've ever seen, tighter than the Feelgoods' rhythm section from the days of Sparko and The Big Figure but with the glowering menace of Lee Brilleaux and the jagged unpredictability of Wilko thrown in too. He'd expect everything from you too - for him, ninety-nine an' a half just wouldn't do. He wasn't an easy man to be around when I was growing up, so you had to study his ways in order to minimise any fall-out at home. There was only one person who could ameliorate his aggressive side and I've mentioned her before - Ruby, the love of his life. Come with me, Johnny, as I take you down by the railroad tracks past the cocklesheds to where they met all those years ago."

 

[Rob Noxious]

26. Danny & The Juniors - 'At The Hop'

"Before we head into The Old Town, Johnny, I'd like to take you to the front of the station. Just around here and over to the left is a narrow footpath. Sometimes my grandad would escort his charges down there and offer them a smoke. As you know, Johnny, he was a huge man with granite block hands so not many people said 'no' to him. He'd direct any "wrong 'uns" - as he called them - to a kissing gate about a hundred yards down that path from where they'd set off into the open expanse of 'The Wrestling Fields.' His piercing blue eyes used to light up whenever he talked about 'the fields.' That's where Southend and Canvey men used to settle their differences for the sake of local pride and entertainment. When Jack Woodgrange took his hostages down there though, it was a private affair where there would be only one outcome. He spared me the details, Johnny, but he would always --- I repeat always --- finish the story with these same words, "... an' I told 'im if I ever saw 'im 'round these parts again, 'e'd have my size thirteens up 'is jacksie to the sixth lacehole!" He really used to love his work before the advent of the men from Region and their "damn blasted procedures and checklists" as he used to say. He saw himself as a guardian of the waterfront and a sentinel of decency - the moment he became shackled by paperwork and "the clipboard brigade" was the day he fell out of love with 'the Force.' It's a shame you only saw a hollow shell of the man he used to be, Johnny, when you took care of him on the old folks' unit at Pier View. But back in his heyday, PC Jack Woodgrange was one of Southend's finest. He ran the tightest ship you've ever seen, tighter than the Feelgoods' rhythm section from the days of Sparko and The Big Figure but with the glowering menace of Lee Brilleaux and the jagged unpredictability of Wilko thrown in too. He'd expect everything from you too - for him, ninety-nine an' a half just wouldn't do. He wasn't an easy man to be around when I was growing up, so you had to study his ways in order to minimise any fall-out at home. There was only one person who could ameliorate his aggressive side and I've mentioned her before - Ruby, the love of his life. Come with me, Johnny, as I take you down by the railroad tracks past the cocklesheds to where they met all those years ago."

"See Johnny, my grand-dad would march down these steps by the side of Leigh station and head towards the boatyards and cocklesheds en route to his beloved Old Town. With the rail tracks to his left and the estuary to his right, he'd stride purposefully along that narrow path contemplating his forthcoming adventures with drunken youths happy in the knowledge that he could dispense quick and savage justice with a forceful cuff around the drunk's crown. Everyone took notice of PC Jack Woodgrange. He was six foot three inches tall and broad of shoulders. He'd fix you with a steely glare if he didn't know you. I saw many men look away at those times. One of his favourite sayings was "I'm a firm man but fair ..." and some of his chums used to call him 'FBF' when he was out of earshot as that phrase 'firm but fair' used to reverberate around Leigh Police Station when they got word that he was on his way with a couple of oafs to slam in the cells.

It's funny Johnny - I can't stop thinking about him every time I walk into the Old Town, and I imagine him with his shoulders swinging and his occasional stops to peer down the spaces between the cocklesheds just to see nothing was amiss. But it's just here, just as I approach the bridge before the entrance to the Old Town proper that I get this tingle between my cheeks. Just in front of us on the left is his first port of call back in the day - 'The Crooked Billet.' He used to like a pint in there to whet his whistle before he'd sort out the under-age ragamuffins in 'The Smack Inn' at the other end of our dear Old Town. He'd cast his eye across the more mature clientele of The Billet to see if there were any 'wrong 'uns' about, let the landlord know that he'd be back later in case he was needed and pull down his helmet as he slipped out the side door before feeling in a back side pocket where his trusty truncheon was ready for action. He'd start whistling in anticipation as his step lightened along those cobbles for this was where he became himself - a man of action amidst "a playground of drunken fools," as he used to call the young crowd who went to The Smack.

Talking of the young crowd, Johnny - before we go in The Smack I just want to take you past the bridge leading over the railway tracks and into this open cobbled concourse which was the centre of the Old Town's Regatta Day. I'm struck by a memory of that great greasy pole there which Graham Paignton shimmied up so effortlessly. Graham Paignton - when did he become 'Glam Paintbrush' exactly? I think it must have been that summer 30 years ago --- the summer of the heat haze, the glorious summer of '76. He used to do those fantastic dances on that Bembridge disco boat that summer - to Danny & The Juniors' 'At The Hop' which was re-released that year. Somersaults from a standing start and breakdancing before it was invented. He sure was the greatest dancer. Sometimes I am driven to distraction by the memories of those days. The girls with their stack heels and denim skirts. The boys all smoking and trying to look hard. Looks across the dance floor to see if you were being looked at. The tension and the drama, Johnny - some days I just wish we could go back there. Then I remember the other side of the coin - having to front out you weren't worried when there was word that a Canvey mob was coming over to ambush us getting off the boat and the painful rejections of last dance last chance clinches. Glam never had any of those worries did he, Johnny? The girls all loved him but so did we."

 

[Rob Noxious]

“What’s that Lou line from ‘Coney Island Baby,’ Cap … ‘see the city is a funny place, something like a circus and a sewer’ … well, when you come out of Nathan’s and head towards the front, you pass this abandoned parking lot on your right. When I first saw it, I thought this was where all the old junked cars, trailers and furniture came to rest, but it was only when I saw a guy coming out of what looked like an old train carriage towards a beaten-up old sofa that I realised people lived there! The richest country in the world, but it has its desperadoes too...still can’t get over this place sometimes. Right, it’s a bit safer now, so here we are just passing the Astroland Amusement Park on our left and you hear that sound? Well, just before we hit The Boardwalk, there’s a baseball batting range where a couple of guys are whacking balls for all they’re worth. I love it when boys keep swinging, Cap, I really do, just out there shooting the breeze, not a care in the world. Talking of which and luckily for me, there’s a nice cool breeze coming across The Boardwalk, with the Atlantic over to our right and The Ramones' very own Rockaway Beach in the distance. Over on the left is a tenement block and guess what, mate, just along from there on our right, there’s a pier! A small one compared to what we’re used to, but a pier all the same! You probably heard those joggers pass us by, puffing away and pounding The Boardwalk. Ha … listen … I just heard my first Albanian voices around here … there’s an old couple on a bench looking out to sea. Your old man wrote that they called this area 'Little Tirana' because of all the Albanians that live here. Uh-oh, time to turn the walky-talky off for a bit, Cap … later!”

I knew I was right!

http://www.independent.co.uk/travel/uk/southendonsea-the-land-of-eastern-promise-2076908.html

I think it was NZamba Legend who also got a Southend vibe over on Coney too. Thank you, Nick Coleman. You're wrong about Wilko though - he is some happening dude currently.