Thursday, April 17, 2008


It's crap. A horrendous London outcrop that is in a state of listless decay. It is as if one is entering a vortex of aesthetic indifference where stunted ideas are celebrated as cultural totems. Gormless groups drift along the pavement tensed with the pointless energy of dumb youth. I have a friend who lives here, subjected to the tantrums of the unwanted local children, circling his house like witless hyenas, screaming and violently booting balls at houses and cars. A charity shop fizzing with unsavoury odours is a sanctuary of sorts. Defeated and damaged the vinyl sprawls awkwardly beneath a ledge of commonplace CD's. A Crickets LP is as mottled as a month old lettuce leaf. Nothing to be rescued here. A miserly slice of salvation appears in the form of a Helen And The Horns 12". Not quite Helen of Troy the glossy Helen McCookerybook, once of Brighton cartoon punkers the Chefs, offers up a jumpy lounge number called Footsteps At My Door. In this locality it is more likely to be the bailiffs than Xavier Cugat marching up the uneven pathway.


filo4590 said...

That's Hayes, Middlesex. There is another, south of London, but who knows about that one?

filo4590 said...

Very very funny. As Homer Simson says 'It's funny because it's true'!