'The Road To Binfield Pier'

[Rob Noxious]

Me and The Captain have been discussing a homage to Orwell's 'The Road To Wigan Pier' with some contemporary musings on the state of the nation today, based on our social encounters and exchanges with our public. To set the scene for this one, I wish to tell you how The Captain once taught your Emperor a valuable lesson which the great Lou Reed had first taught him. This lesson was contained in the words of Lou's song, 'Modern Dance,' where the protagonist muses on being in various parts of the world in order to gain different experiences. The Captain deduced from this that the 'travel dream' sold to impressionable adventurers was a chimera. He said, "Listen up, Emp - and guess what ? You can 'find yourself' here. You don't have to go around the world to do it. All the answers you so desperately crave are staring you in the face, right here in your own neighbourhood." So, with The Captain's words still resonating for me to this day, I set forth from my front door every day to discover the secrets that this world has to offer. I'm taking you with me this time though ... so let me lead you by the hand and take you on a little walk around your Emperor's enclave, way out West in my Celtic retreat.

 

[Rob Noxious]

1. Lightnin' Hopkins - 'The Walkin' Blues'

It seems that the older I get, the keener I am to preserve what's still good about life in this battered island. An example ... your Emperor went into a public house on the outskirts of Causewayhead early last Sunday evening to check out whether it would be a good place to see some World Cup action in approximately 10 weeks' time. I'd been hooked in by the promise of a 'big screen' for such events, but found a collection of warnings. Firstly, the doorway was barred by refugee smokers, secondly the big screen was "broken" ... luckily, the pint of Tribute was rather good ... and lastly, the place was bedecked with kids' paraphernalia. Not long after, lo and behold, the young 'uns come in with their foot-pushing-scooters and I exit stage right past the smokers after finishing the Tribute and reading a fine article by Tony Judt (entitled 'What is to be done?') in last week-end's paper.

However, just down the road and back near the centre of town is an old boozer for old boozers called 'The Union.' The landlord clocks me as I come in and says to the the young barmaid "Bass," on my approach to the bar. It's a fine bar too, with a glorious fire raging to the side of it. Though this was officially the first day of our island's summertime, it was damp and cold. I joked about this with the young barmaid as to its contrast to her native Capri before I'm back to the paper and pint without fuss, no distractions except for a glorious Blues compilation cracking on from behind the bar. One particular track gets my attention and I start thinking, "...if only my brother were here, he would love this..." and I have to go up and ask my Caprian friend, "What is this track?" ... she had to consult the CD ('All That Blues') listing to advise me that it was 'The Walkin' Blues' by Lightnin' Hopkins.

Your Emperor will be 50 this year and I am now liking the music of my brother's generation ... someone once told me (when I was 29) that you can't reallly enjoy Van Morrison's music till you're 30, so I guess I must be a year ahead of my time. But seriously, good people, though Tony Judt concluded that the point is not just to understand the world, "it is to change it," your Emperor wants to keep the good things from this island's history. That moment in 'The Union' was one of them. Blink and it's gone. I guess we've just got to keep walking and looking back too. But when I find that perfect pub for The World Cup, I promise that you'll be the first to know.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/FM247-Radio-Binfield-Rob-Spooner/dp/1409283402/ref=pd_ecc_rvi_4

 

[Rob Noxious]

"From the edge of the world to your town ..."

http://www.amazon.co.uk/FM247-Radio-Binfield-Rob-Spooner/dp/1409283402/ref=pd_ecc_rvi_4

Hey, forgot to tell you guys - now available in Southend Waterstone's, only a few hundred yards away from 'Binfield' Pier! :)

 

[Rob Noxious]

2. Elvis Costello & The Attractions - 'Accidents Will Happen'

"Hey, Cap - it's about time I did you another broadcast. I was reminded of the opening lines of this song again today, "Oh, I just don't know where to begin..." and then I thought of you buying your copy of 'Armed Forces' from Projection Records just off Binfield Broadway. Wasn't that old guy from The Kursaal Flyers behind that little counter that day as you tried not to breathe in the scent of joss-sticks when you asked if your copy had the free EP ? Remember you telling me he sneered at you in affirmation. Rock tsars, huh ? Well, there's no room for any tsars in your Emperor's universe. I still like to think we're all equal under the sun or we should be at least. Turns out another of our listeners out there in the sun has been feeling our 'Binfield Blues.' He's sent a letter in asking for this one to be played. Reminds him of growing up back home and things not working out as he would have liked apparently. Well, it takes me back too ... to '79 ... when we lost touch and when I left Binfield. You probably heard that I returned a few years ago in some strange circumstances. More about that anon, but let me take you back, way way back, to the days before the day that changed the world. Hope you've still got that EP and that you remember the Elvis gig we saw at The Palais in 'The Winter Of Discontent.' He was great then. I thought the tsar of the show was Richard Hell that night. John Cooper-Clarke kicked it off, I think. We had to leave in the encore of 'Pump It Up' so we could get the last train back to Binfield. Hardly ever see any new bands now, Cap. How about you ? My brother told me about when bands like The Paramounts played at the end of The Pier. Imagine that ... that must have been ace, getting that little train to the end, a few pints and some music. Now look at it. What a waste. Still, if we can get the big bucks in via The Binfield Trust, what say we bring live music back to Binfield Pier ? If anyone can fix it, The Producer can. You've got to have a dream, Cap, and like you once told me, all roads lead back to Binfield. OK, less talk, more music ... take it away, Declan!"

 

[Rob Noxious]

3. Lou Reed - 'Who Am I ?'

Hello. My name is Ludwig and I'm a survivor. I have lived a life of the imagination on the radio airwaves. Some of you know me through my love of the old-time music. Well, that was down to my mum and my brothers - I grew up in a house where The Beach Boys and Elvis was played all the time back in the sixties. Mum loved Dusty Springfield too and I used to watch her Saturday night TV show on the old black and white set after Dr. Who. Every now and then though mum would sit me down and make me listen to songs without lyrics by some dead Albanian geezer called Ludwig Van Morrison, I think he was called. She said that's who she named me after. It didn't matter though 'cause all the kids round our way in Binfield-on-Sea could never pronounce it anyway, so they called me Lugwin. That's my name now... Lugwin. Lugwin Loggins. But the bigger issue is "Who am I?," as the laconic Lou Reed once asked his listeners in a song of the same name. Well, I've been asking myself that a lot lately, so here's where I really introduce myself.

My name is Lugwin and I'm a survivor of the days that changed my world. I guess we've all experienced life-changing events or else we wouldn't be together at Pier View Court today. I've been here just a few weeks now, and I can honestly say it's given me a whole new lease of life. Every morning I'm up bright and early to have a look out that big window to survey my kingdom. Right in front of me, stretching out like a pointing finger, is the jewel in the crown - the longest pier in the world. My dad would take me on a walk up there on Saturday mornings before he spent the afternoon putting bets on the horses. I used to love that feeling of the wind blowing across my neck, holding dad's hand as I gazed down at the water through the gaps in the boardwalk. Those days nothing could trouble me and he'd get me an ice-cream at the end of the pier before we got that bumpy little train back. I was really happy then. I don't remember him that well, but dad was a big man and I felt safe with him nearby. I miss all of them now - mum, dad, my brothers. But I never really feel alone because I've still got the music. Some of you may know me from my other persona as the DJ supremo of the Lottery-funded community radio station called Radio Binfield, or 'FM247' for short. I play the songs that tell the stories. Talking of which, Lou Reed once told us that when he says "I" in a song, it doesn't necessarily mean "me." I can see a few querulous faces. Are you with me on this ? OK, let me explain.

I am The Emperor. I have lived a life of the imagination on the radio airwaves. I like to play music which gets me thinking. It doesn't mean that I'm necessarily thinking about me. When I express anything to do with it, I might even be thinking about you, or someone else I've met along the way. So, I'll play this song by Lou and we'll get this little 'Music and Memories' group really kicking off. As we say on Radio Binfield, "stay tuned and don't touch that dial." I hope that you enjoy our little show.

 

[Tangled up in Blue]

Topical Blues

One particular track gets my attention and I start thinking, "...if only my brother were here, he would love this..." and I have to go up and ask my Caprian friend, "What is this track?" ... she had to consult the CD ('All That Blues') listing to advise me that it was 'The Walkin' Blues' by Lightnin' Hopkins.

Your Emperor will be 50 this year and I am now liking the music of my brother's generation ... someone once told me (when I was 29) that you can't reallly enjoy Van Morrison's music till you're 30, so I guess I must be a year ahead of my time. QUOTE]

Interestingly there's an extract from a new biography of LH in the current issue of Living Blues.Also most purists would argue that The Walking Blues is very far from being one of LH's best tracks.It is of course a re-working of Robert Johnson's Walking Blues which owes it's inspiration to Son House.

 

[Rob Noxious]

One particular track gets my attention and I start thinking, "...if only my brother were here, he would love this..." and I have to go up and ask my Caprian friend, "What is this track?" ... she had to consult the CD ('All That Blues') listing to advise me that it was 'The Walkin' Blues' by Lightnin' Hopkins.

Your Emperor will be 50 this year and I am now liking the music of my brother's generation ... someone once told me (when I was 29) that you can't reallly enjoy Van Morrison's music till you're 30, so I guess I must be a year ahead of my time. QUOTE]

Interestingly there's an extract from a new biography of LH in the current issue of Living Blues.Also most purists would argue that The Walking Blues is very far from being one of LH's best tracks.It is of course a re-working of Robert Johnson's Walking Blues which owes it's inspiration to Son House.

Thanks for that. Who needs the purists to tell us what we should like though ?

 

[Tangled up in Blue]

Thanks for that. Who needs the purists to tell us what we should like though ?

Quite true.I've always been a big fan of LH's stuff myself-as my record collection attests!

 

[Rob Noxious]

4. XTC - 'Radios In Motion'

Hello. My name is Ludwig and I'm a survivor. I have lived a life of the imagination on the radio airwaves. Some of you know me through my love of the old-time music. Well, that was down to my mum and my brothers - I grew up in a house where The Beach Boys and Elvis was played all the time back in the sixties. Mum loved Dusty Springfield too and I used to watch her Saturday night TV show on the old black and white set after Dr. Who. Every now and then though mum would sit me down and make me listen to songs without lyrics by some dead Albanian geezer called Ludwig Van Morrison, I think he was called. She said that's who she named me after. It didn't matter though 'cause all the kids round our way in Binfield-on-Sea could never pronounce it anyway, so they called me Lugwin. That's my name now... Lugwin. Lugwin Loggins. But the bigger issue is "Who am I?," as the laconic Lou Reed once asked his listeners in a song of the same name. Well, I've been asking myself that a lot lately, so here's where I really introduce myself.

My name is Lugwin and I'm a survivor of the days that changed my world. I guess we've all experienced life-changing events or else we wouldn't be together at Pier View Court today. I've been here just a few weeks now, and I can honestly say it's given me a whole new lease of life. Every morning I'm up bright and early to have a look out that big window to survey my kingdom. Right in front of me, stretching out like a pointing finger, is the jewel in the crown - the longest pier in the world. My dad would take me on a walk up there on Saturday mornings before he spent the afternoon putting bets on the horses. I used to love that feeling of the wind blowing across my neck, holding dad's hand as I gazed down at the water through the gaps in the boardwalk. Those days nothing could trouble me and he'd get me an ice-cream at the end of the pier before we got that bumpy little train back. I was really happy then. I don't remember him that well, but dad was a big man and I felt safe with him nearby. I miss all of them now - mum, dad, my brothers. But I never really feel alone because I've still got the music. Some of you may know me from my other persona as the DJ supremo of the Lottery-funded community radio station called Radio Binfield, or 'FM247' for short. I play the songs that tell the stories. Talking of which, Lou Reed once told us that when he says "I" in a song, it doesn't necessarily mean "me." I can see a few querulous faces. Are you with me on this ? OK, let me explain.

I am The Emperor. I have lived a life of the imagination on the radio airwaves. I like to play music which gets me thinking. It doesn't mean that I'm necessarily thinking about me. When I express anything to do with it, I might even be thinking about you, or someone else I've met along the way. So, I'll play this song by Lou and we'll get this little 'Music and Memories' group really kicking off. As we say on Radio Binfield, "stay tuned and don't touch that dial." I hope that you enjoy our little show.

Don't you find the music can take you to places that you might otherwise have forgotten ? Listening to Lou Reed in that song and hearing those lines about how the lines on his character's face could be traced to memories of a previous love got me thinking about the ageing process. Believe it or not, your Emperor will be fifty years old this year. I am the 'younger man now getting old,' just like Lou sings. I am becoming painfully conscious of this every time I get up after sitting down for a long time. So excuse me standing up in front of you, it's just better for me later.

I think that the apex of middle-age is playing on my mind too as I lost my dad when he was fifty. I wonder how many of you noticed that I used the word 'lost' there ? I guess that words like 'death' and 'died' are still not ones that I use freely. I will give it a try now. My dad died when he was fifty. Your Emperor was eight years old and found it difficult to understand. People had only ever died on television before. I have spent a large part of the rest of my life trying to come to terms with it. The word 'lost' remains important though. I lost a large part of my identity with his death and those feelings of loss have stayed with me in so many ways since. That's okay though. I am not alone. What we all have in common here at Pier View Court is this loss. We have even lost parts of our identity coming through the mental health system. What is most important now is how we come through our respective crises - how we get to 'the new you' on the other side.

I'm here before you now as a way of helping myself and because I've been asked by my Occupational Therapist to share some of my 'Radio Therapy' experiences with you all. It involves giving yourself up to the music and seeking understanding and reconciliation through this process. It's nothing new. You've probably heard about how veterans of the First Albanian War convalesced here at Pier View when they returned from the front. I guess you've seen the old black and white pictures of them sat out there on the balcony with their headphones. I never met my grand-father, but mum told me that he was one of them. In turn, he shared his love of the music that had helped him with her and then she passed on the baton to me. Well, more of a mike than a baton, but you get the idea. Now this is going to sound really strange, but the process goes like this. I talk into this mike, whilst the tape records everything. I play the music, describe the effect it has on me, what world it takes me to and I feel a whole lot better. What really works is when I want to communicate to someone directly. I compile a personalised radio broadcast based on these musical selections and 'imperial' reflections, and there you have it, you're on air with The Emperor. Strange, huh ? But it works for me ... maybe it will for you too. Like Lou said, sometimes I wonder who am I, a younger man getting old, I wonder what the rest of life will hold ... but I know now. My purpose in the time I have left is to help people who have been through some of this stuff and 'Radio Therapy' is the best way I can do it. So, people, let's get these radios in motion. Just watch me now and I'll show you how it's done.

 

[Rob Noxious]

5. The Monkees - 'Daydream Believer'

Don't you find the music can take you to places that you might otherwise have forgotten ? Listening to Lou Reed in that song and hearing those lines about how the lines on his character's face could be traced to memories of a previous love got me thinking about the ageing process. Believe it or not, your Emperor will be fifty years old this year. I am the 'younger man now getting old,' just like Lou sings. I am becoming painfully conscious of this every time I get up after sitting down for a long time. So excuse me standing up in front of you, it's just better for me later.

I think that the apex of middle-age is playing on my mind too as I lost my dad when he was fifty. I wonder how many of you noticed that I used the word 'lost' there ? I guess that words like 'death' and 'died' are still not ones that I use freely. I will give it a try now. My dad died when he was fifty. Your Emperor was eight years old and found it difficult to understand. People had only ever died on television before. I have spent a large part of the rest of my life trying to come to terms with it. The word 'lost' remains important though. I lost a large part of my identity with his death and those feelings of loss have stayed with me in so many ways since. That's okay though. I am not alone. What we all have in common here at Pier View Court is this loss. We have even lost parts of our identity coming through the mental health system. What is most important now is how we come through our respective crises - how we get to 'the new you' on the other side.

I'm here before you now as a way of helping myself and because I've been asked by my Occupational Therapist to share some of my 'Radio Therapy' experiences with you all. It involves giving yourself up to the music and seeking understanding and reconciliation through this process. It's nothing new. You've probably heard about how veterans of the First Albanian War convalesced here at Pier View when they returned from the front. I guess you've seen the old black and white pictures of them sat out there on the balcony with their headphones. I never met my grand-father, but mum told me that he was one of them. In turn, he shared his love of the music that had helped him with her and then she passed on the baton to me. Well, more of a mike than a baton, but you get the idea. Now this is going to sound really strange, but the process goes like this. I talk into this mike, whilst the tape records everything. I play the music, describe the effect it has on me, what world it takes me to and I feel a whole lot better. What really works is when I want to communicate to someone directly. I compile a personalised radio broadcast based on these musical selections and 'imperial' reflections, and there you have it, you're on air with The Emperor. Strange, huh ? But it works for me ... maybe it will for you too. Like Lou said, sometimes I wonder who am I, a younger man getting old, I wonder what the rest of life will hold ... but I know now. My purpose in the time I have left is to help people who have been through some of this stuff and 'Radio Therapy' is the best way I can do it. So, people, let's get these radios in motion. Just watch me now and I'll show you how it's done.

OK, listen up. This all started way back in the late sixties, shortly after my dad died. I used to lose myself in radio reverie with the little plastic transistor I had enwrapped in a lovely leather outer skin. I had an ear-piece that I'd connect to it and my mum never knew I'd be listening to it under the sheets. Now that's what I called freedom. There was a lot of great pop music played then. I used to see this band called 'The Monkees' on television on Saturday nights. Their zaniness really used to cheer me up. Someone said that they didn't play their instruments, but I didn't care. I loved the upbeat music, particularly the track called 'Daydream Believer.' I think about this song even now, and I see it as an inspiration for our little Radio Therapy project. Let me explain. I have learnt that our dreams can hold the answer to some of the mysteries of our lives, and I have found that with the help of the music and a good listening ear, we can unlock the meaning behind these mysteries.

Some of you may know Dr. Beradi from your time at Speedwell Hospital. Well, the good doctor encouraged me to explore the detail of my dreams and try to connect them with the soundtrack I always had playing in my head when I was dreaming. He helped me to realise that certain dreams I had about the music played at home were all about my family and even now some of those songs come up in my dreams. He sees this as evidence that some of these personal issues are still there. Well, I'm not going to argue with him. The whole ethos of Radio Binfield has been about playing 'Your Tune' for the public and helping them to connect with the emotional memories attached to their requested songs. What I'd like to do with you now is to take this one stage further. I'd like to show you how we can believe in the power of our dreams to inspire us in our day-to-day lives. Every morning, I'm noting down the details of my dreams and thinking about the songs that have been playing during these dreams. Doc Beradi likes me to bring these details along to our 'Talk Therapy' sessions so we can analyse them together. I select key lyrics of the song and describe what they mean for me in the context of this dream. The Doc is then somehow able to synthesise all this and give me suggestions as to what it all means. Weird, huh ? Maybe, but it works for me.

My fascination with the power of radio really took off when I started to make my own shows. All you needed back then was a cassette recorder and a mike. I started off taping Fluffy Oldman's Sunday afternoon chart countdowns for my best friend, Winston Woodgrange. No-one called him Winston though. He was always Wiz. Or to give him his full psuedonym, 'Wiz Winegum,' because he loved ******* on those sweeties on the walk home from Binfield Hall junior school. We were inseparable back then and even though I haven't seen him in over thirty years, he remains the best friend I ever had. We are in contact regularly again now through our personalised radio broadcasts, ever since Doc Beradi told me that I needed to re-connect with the parts of my past that meant most to me. He said that this would help me to recover the missing parts of my identity that were lost before I came to Speedwell. I'm going to play you some material from these personalised radio broadcasts to illustrate just how powerful this experience can be. I'll be punctuating The Emperor's DJ chat with the music he refers to just so you can get the context of these particular 'Your Tunes.' So, it's time to put your headphones on as I take you into the world of solid gold Radio Binfield ...

 

[Rob Noxious]

6. Jonathan King - 'Everyone's Gone To The Moon'

OK, listen up. This all started way back in the late sixties, shortly after my dad died. I used to lose myself in radio reverie with the little plastic transistor I had enwrapped in a lovely leather outer skin. I had an ear-piece that I'd connect to it and my mum never knew I'd be listening to it under the sheets. Now that's what I called freedom. There was a lot of great pop music played then. I used to see this band called 'The Monkees' on television on Saturday nights. Their zaniness really used to cheer me up. Someone said that they didn't play their instruments, but I didn't care. I loved the upbeat music, particularly the track called 'Daydream Believer.' I think about this song even now, and I see it as an inspiration for our little Radio Therapy project. Let me explain. I have learnt that our dreams can hold the answer to some of the mysteries of our lives, and I have found that with the help of the music and a good listening ear, we can unlock the meaning behind these mysteries.

Some of you may know Dr. Beradi from your time at Speedwell Hospital. Well, the good doctor encouraged me to explore the detail of my dreams and try to connect them with the soundtrack I always had playing in my head when I was dreaming. He helped me to realise that certain dreams I had about the music played at home were all about my family and even now some of those songs come up in my dreams. He sees this as evidence that some of these personal issues are still there. Well, I'm not going to argue with him. The whole ethos of Radio Binfield has been about playing 'Your Tune' for the public and helping them to connect with the emotional memories attached to their requested songs. What I'd like to do with you now is to take this one stage further. I'd like to show you how we can believe in the power of our dreams to inspire us in our day-to-day lives. Every morning, I'm noting down the details of my dreams and thinking about the songs that have been playing during these dreams. Doc Beradi likes me to bring these details along to our 'Talk Therapy' sessions so we can analyse them together. I select key lyrics of the song and describe what they mean for me in the context of this dream. The Doc is then somehow able to synthesise all this and give me suggestions as to what it all means. Weird, huh ? Maybe, but it works for me.

My fascination with the power of radio really took off when I started to make my own shows. All you needed back then was a cassette recorder and a mike. I started off taping Fluffy Oldman's Sunday afternoon chart countdowns for my best friend, Winston Woodgrange. No-one called him Winston though. He was always Wiz. Or to give him his full psuedonym, 'Wiz Winegum,' because he loved ******* on those sweeties on the walk home from Binfield Hall junior school. We were inseparable back then and even though I haven't seen him in over thirty years, he remains the best friend I ever had. We are in contact regularly again now through our personalised radio broadcasts, ever since Doc Beradi told me that I needed to re-connect with the parts of my past that meant most to me. He said that this would help me to recover the missing parts of my identity that were lost before I came to Speedwell. I'm going to play you some material from these personalised radio broadcasts to illustrate just how powerful this experience can be. I'll be punctuating The Emperor's DJ chat with the music he refers to just so you can get the context of these particular 'Your Tunes.' So, it's time to put your headphones on as I take you into the world of solid gold Radio Binfield ...

This particular broadcast sample was recorded for me by my best friend. We send tapes to each other and highlight particular lines from songs that inspire the memories. I particularly like the way he uses a voice-over technique here as the song plays. OK, everyone got their headphones on? Good, 'cause here we go ...


"...now bear with me here, Emp, because I know this guy is quite rightly strictly 'persona non grata' nowadays, but perversely, it was when I was a child that this record had a profound effect on me. Believe it or not, it is the record I associate with our primary schooldays and if we're looking at how music can take you back, way back, then this is the defining record of my childhood. Listen with me as I take you through the lines whilst I do my Captain's voice-over..."

Streets full of people all alone
"...I'm walking along Carlton Avenue towards Binfield Hall and there's loads of other kids around. It wouldn't happen today, Emp, they get lifts in or they're on the bus. I'm by myself as usual, I'm keen to get there to play football before school starts and I can't wait around..."

Roads full of houses never home
"...I'm remembering those scary council houses just before you get to Rochester Drive. The windows are smashed in and we wondered who lived there. We always used to walk a bit quicker when we went past them, remember..."

Church full of singing out of tune
"...that's St. Keddies Church, near where the Treecotters hung out. Used to go to cubs there on Wednesday nights, too..."

Everyone's gone to the moon
"...ah, the moon landing mate in '69! Do you remember when we were all herded into the hall to watch it? How great was that? Some people say it never really happened though..."

Eyes full of sorrow never wept
"...mmm, ouch, that's my grand-dad telling me about my mum and dad..."

Hands full of money all in debt
"...well, obvious one really...grand-dad wasn't exactly flushed..."

Sun coming out in the middle of June
"...always seem to remember sunny days as a kid, either that or snow..."

Everyone's gone to the moon
"...in the hall at school again, remember that 'team points' board they'd total up in there at the end of the week? Amazing...seemed to matter so much to us..."

Long time ago life had begun
"...and seemed so full of hope! Whatever happened, great mate?"

Everyone went to the sun
"...going down Chalkwell beach with grand-dad on a week-end..."

Hearts full of motors painted green
"...in that wonderful old dark green Cortina he had with the light brown seats..."

Mouths full of chocolate covered cream
"... your mum gave you money to buy us treats from that little sweet-shop just off Carlton Avenue after school...fantastic..."

Arms that can only lift a spoon
"...whoops, bit more up to date, being almost catatonic in the early days of being here..."

Everyone's gone to the moon

"...just like something you said in your broadcast, 'I belong there.' You know, Emp, sometimes I wish I could go back there and see it all again, with all our old friends, just to get that feeling of how it all was. It seemed so much better back then, life at the drawing board. I guess your memory plays tricks with you and yes, there were grey days and upsets, but I don't remember them hardly at all. Either that or I put them out of my mind...Doc Beradi reckons that was my 'survival mechanism' apparently, all that dissociating from the difficult stuff by blotting out the bad memories. He said that was another reason why I ended up with this amnesia for all that happened out in Coney Island. Anyway, mate, I know one thing for sure. It was a great world to live in and I belong there. In fact, so do you..."

 

[Rob Noxious]

7. The England World Cup Squad 1970 - 'Back Home'

Hey Emp, talking of belonging, comradeship and the old days, where would we be without 'the beautiful game'? I spend a lot of my spare time off air in cyber-space indulging in harmless banter with fellow footy fans from Binfield. It's good, clean fun and has awoken memories of where it all started... back in that huge playground at Binfield Hall. Do you remember those pre-school free-for-alls where any kid could join in and some of those games would degenerate into kick-boxing bouts? Fantastic... sometimes I long for that bit of physical hurly-burly but then I remember I'm a middle-aged old geezer and that I should just let it go. I expect you can almost hear me sigh across the airwaves here on Radio Binfield eh, old chum?

But seriously, there was a real sense of importance about some of those games, particularly the ones at dinner-time the closer we got to Fridays when the school teams would be picked. Especially so when Mr. Trigger, the sports teacher who picked the teams, was on playground duty. Trigger never said much, but he saw everything. He used to sit on that little green bench near our makeshift halfway line, right where the playground bordered the field of dreams, where we dreamed of impressing him enough so he'd pick us for the first team. I remember looking over to Trigger after putting a wicked curler past Perv Thomas but then beings distraught to see that he was busy lecturing one of the hooligans - Johnny Reggae, I think - about running onto his beloved pitch. I don't think I made the first team that week either...ah, the injustice!

It wasn't just about the football though, was it? There were a few bigger games going on off the field. What I mean, Emp, is if you got picked on a Friday, you were allowed to take the school shirt home with you on Friday nights and those maroon and white hoops were a real status symbol. How I loved having mine festooned over my shoulders on the way home from school, desperately trying to catch up with Lorraine Robinson after we'd been to the sweet-shop just off Carlton Avenue , so she could see I was in the team. That girl knew her football - and listen, they'd call us 'sexist' now for saying it mate - but that was extremely rare in a girl those days, wasn't it? Anyway, old buddy, let me just cue the record and give it the old 'jock-speak' ...

"Now here's one that'll take you back... way way back in fact to 1970, when some of us were staying up late to watch 'our boys' in the Mexico World Cup. They were giving all they had to give 'for the folks back home.' Take it away Bobby, Jackie, Geoff and even Nobby too. And any girls out there, especially Lorraine Robinson, you can jingle your bracelets to this one too..."