Rock I

Right. Bollocks to whingeing. Bad week last week. Like you’ve never had one of them. This week, a whole host of ace things, because frankly, my life rocks, and I fully intend to remind myself of it.

Today is Sunday. Things that rock today:

The Undertones – Everyone knows “Teenage Kicks”. Everything else they did also rocks, provided you ignore the fact that one of them went on to be Fergal Sharkey. Well, he was Fergal at the time, but he was good in the late seventies. Not entirely unlike what happened to Paul Weller after The Jam, I suppose. Yeah, they’re a teenage band. They’re being sixteen and having the time of your fucking life, are The Undertones. Everyone deserves to remember what it was like to be invincible for time to time, because that’s the bit that gets lost when you look back on being a teenager. You spend so much time laughing wryly at your arrogance, or desparing over what a little shit you were that you forget how much fun it was when you were young, attractive and knew everything. And that’s a shame. It may have been bullshit, but it was a lovely feeling.

Derek Raymond – Finest crime writer you’ve never heard of. Died a few years back, which is a crying shame. Anyone who could write like him deserves to go on for a lot longer. Burning, brutal stories of love and murder, told with poetry and style. And, of course, they’re bastard hard to find, but they’re well worth the effort.

London – London rocks. There are so many reasons why that I could list them for ever and ever and not reach the end. If you’ve never lived in London, then you’ve missed out. This is true of a load of cities, and I’ll get round to them later on, but for now, I’m going to go out and enjoy my home city. Because that’s what Sunday’s are for.

Why are you still sitting there reading this?

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