GHOST IN THE RADIO:
There’s a cartoon sky over Essex this morning, Simpson clouds
like sheep grazing liquid pink meadows. A frost & a cliche of
gradient blues as trees recede to distant fields. Last night I found a
room of beautiful crazies. Candle-lit misfits, the total weight of
who’s misdemeanours could sink ships. The kindness & kinship
brought smiles to faces, relief & a light in the eyes. No substitute
it seems for understanding & the willingness to change through
the power of example & love.
The radio hissed when I started the car, it found a station I never
asked it for. A direct connection to the 1960’s complete with
Radio Luxembourg phasing, the Beach Boys at the height of
their powers singing ‘I Get Around’ opened a tunnel back to a boy
traveling in his Dad’s car at night. The thrill of those harmonies,
the heartbreak of those changes & twists –
“…We always take my car ’cause it’s never bin beat…”.
The radio clicked to another station like a scene from the Twilight Zone.
1969, soon to be the 70’s, me & Mark Howells the first drummer listening
to his Zeppelin albums. That muted attack of Page’s guitar sound, raw &
superior to everything else around. Crude & assured, pumping out’ve
my little mono record player in the dark. A hole opened up into a car
driving at night through the backwoods of Essex – still feeling the thrill.