Never mind the opening Pete Townsend powerchords and the general Who riffage. Never mind that, after the torch is switched on, everything looks like a scene from Tommy. (You can’t get much more Mod than taking a trip to Cuckoo Land on a helter skelter.) Never mind the fact that the dog Wordsworth is the spitting image of Keith Moon.
When Jamie finally flies out at the bottom of the helter skelter… take a look what he lands on.
It was at a service station somewhere in the North West when I said to Hannah, “Are we going to Liverpool?”
And she said yes, that was the destination of our surprise weekend away. And it made sense, because every once in a while I’d said “Yeah, I went to university there. I really should go back sometime. Did I ever mention that I seriously considered living there permanently?”
“Margaret Thatcher (1983)” by Rob Bogaerts / Anefo – Nationaal Archief
My brother and I tried to explain to a throng of youngsters at band rehearsal on Monday. But they didn’t understand! How could they? Sometimes I don’t understand it myself. Sometimes I look back, and I think to myself: how could a thing like this happen? In my lifetime? In the UK?