11 February 2013
Calling. From 14 years old, this little boy travelled on a train, on his own from Kent to Victoria.
In wonder, fascination Of this Victoriana station, Little ants scurrying, Commuters worrying, bustling Everywhere Noise! Noise!
Let me off! But I didn't get off, no, I stayed, and I trained hard to like the Underground, but I found it hard. Nobody looks me in the eye, nobody talks to me. This country boy needs songs, needs poetry.
London Zoo (Regents Park) Oxford Street shopping (Oxford Circus) Brother in Shepherds Bush (Shepherds Bush) Living a London life
Why do city boys always try to shoot me down? Sometimes walking south of the river you feel nervous, but no reason not to go there.
And lights. And traffic, taxis and buses. And at night; clubs, the greatest bands, the most original music in the world is in
'London calling to the faraway towns Now war is declared, and battle come down'
Leather exotica in the underground club of the Camden Underworld, Guns n Roses at old Wembley stadium, me and U2 cueing up all night for tickets on Sunday, bloody Sunday
Shoppers, everywhere, Will stare at us, (E)yes wide From an all night hard house club 4am in the morning, Our London never stops calling
'London calling to the underworld Come out of the cupboard, you boys and girls'
And then, more leisurely walks along the Embankment, beauty to behold in the Tate Modern, good drinking places overlooking the river, and behold; Shakespeare, my man, is here at the Shakespeare Theatre. Romeo & Juliet, sword fights in English weather, then; PROTEST!
'London calling, now don't look to us Phoney Beatlemania has bitten the dust London calling, see we ain't got no swing 'Cept for the ring of that truncheon thing'
PROTEST! You are in the most free city in the world aren't you? I was there Against The Iraq War, marching through my beautiful, safe, free, London city streets with over a million others. We sung, we marched, we threw stones at McDonalds (coz that's what you do to McDonalds), we laughed, we got channeled by Police, into parks, into
'The ice age is coming, the sun's zooming in Meltdown expected, the wheat is growing thin Engines stop running, but I have no fear 'Cause London is drowning, and I live by the river'
Full of beer and cider me, drinking on Christmas Eve at The Blue Posts (Tottenham Court Road) with my brother, working at the Virgin Megastore, now store and pub sadly gone
'London calling to the imitation zone'
1 is Covent Garden, tourists busking for homemade treasures before we sneak off to the Opera; Pavarotti in Hyde Park in the pelting rain, PUT YOUR UMBRELLA DOWN! Can't you see a master at work here?
'Forget it, brother, you can go it alone London calling to the zombies of death Quit holding out, and draw another breath'
The greatest graveyard in London surely is; Highgate Cemetery. Overgrown, deliciously haphazard, these marvellous tombs of the dead from another era....I always wanted to spend the night here, illegally camp with the Ghosts; dress up in my best Gothic and strut around singing with the dead;
'London calling, and I don't wanna shout But while we were talking, I saw you nodding out London calling, see we ain't got no high Except for that one with the yellowy eyes'
Greenwich Park, a summer treat, and festival days spent in Finsbury Park with Billy Brag, and indie bands of the past, friends lost now, but always chanting, singing,
'London calling, yes, I was there, too An' you know what they said? Well, some of it was true!'
London, I have been there in the bomb scares and you terrified me. London, I have lived through protests with you, and you inspired me. London, I have commuted with you, waited with you patiently while you did snow, jams, broken signals, floods, and bombs. But
'London calling at the top of the dial After all this, won't you give me a smile?'
My beautiful London. I love you.
London • Opuss № I