Some scraps of writing.
I've been meaning to write this for a long time, but somehow I just never got around to it. What, in between my job and looking after my kids I barely seem to have a spare second to think, let alone start writing a book. But now I've started - the children are away staying at their grandparents house for a week, and I've taken a few months off work - I know that I'll finish it.
I was born on the first of August 1981, in Blackpool, England. My parents, Maggie and Paul, were owners of a small restaurant and I was practically raised there. By the age of seven I was working in the kitchen helping to wash dishes. By eight I was manning the cash register. At the age of nine I could cook tiramisu better than the head chef. By ten my father had left my mother for his gay lover.
He left Mum the house and the restaurant and flew to Hong Kong to start his new life there. Mum was in despair. She stayed in bed for four days, so I wagged school and looked after her and the restaurant, running the mile and a half between them four times a day so I could keep an eye on Mum as well. The staff at the restaurant were great and helped me out a lot. On the fifth day I managed to drag Mum out of bed and I went back to school like nothing had ever happened.
---
As a teenager I was always doing something; working in the restaurant with my mother, struggling to keep atop my schoolwork, doing odd jobs to try and help pay the rent. But the thing I loved doing most was playing my bass. The rent might not be paid and we'd have to sleep in the restaurant, or I might be packed off to my fathers for a week while Mum tried to get her head together, but the bass was always there.
In those years I always seemed to be in some band or rather. I remember the first band that I was in called Ron And The Illusions. Ron was a total prick, if I remember correctly, and hadn't a musical bone in his body. The rest of us tried to keep it together, but when the drummer and I got into a fierce fist fight one rainy afternoon in February, which resulted in me getting seven stitches and he getting concussion, we all realised that it wasn't going to last and promptly disbanded.
But I'd had a taste of being a musician, and it had been wonderful. I didn't care about getting famous or rich - I just liked the feel of being a part of something.
---
I was in the restaurant when I found out about my A levels. I'd done Food Tech, History, Music and German, and thankfully I'd passed all of them and was able to get into Blackpool College.
So I was going to College. I had mixed feelings about it. Part of me had wanted to escape to London and start working down there, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to leave my mother. Ever since Dad had left her for Graham she'd never been the same, and I wasn't sure that she'd be able to cope by herself if I left. At least if I stayed in Blackpool I could keep an eye on her and chip in at the restaurant when I got an off moment.
And this way I could stay close to Neal and James. We were looking for a drummer for the band, and it would have been awful of my to run out on them just as the band was starting to get going. We all knew that this was it. All the other bands that we'd been in hadn't meant a thing compared to The All Alones. The All Alones were actually going to become something.
---
There was an unspoken agreement between everyone that no one ever tried to get Grace into bed. We knew she was the best manager that we could ever hope for, and after the awful time we'd had with Simon none of us were too keen to loose her and have to go through the effort of finding a new one.
Whatever we got for a gig we split five ways: 20% for Neal, 20% for James, 20% for Brian, 20% for me and 20% for Grace. She deserved it. She probably deserved even more in those early days, when no one was keen to book us and she had to struggle to get us gigs. She always managed to get us something though, and slowly people became no so reluctant to have us perform.
We changed our name from The All Alones to The Cadavers as a nod to James' time at medical school, which he had then dropped out of by then. He began to work in a bookshop part time and moved in with me, splitting the rent on my little hovel.
By day I was a student at college, studying History and Politics, and by night I was a musician, playing in pubs and clubs that stank of stale piss.
---
"David? Is that you?" A meek little voice called out as I shut the door to the apartment.
It was mid July and a thunderstorm was pissing down outside, threatening to cut out the power if it continued much longer. I'd just moved into a slightly larger apartment with James, trying to escape the crime on the estate, trying to keep James from being mugged every time he stepped onto the street. It was like he had 'Rob Me' tattooed on his forehead.
The new apartment was also closer to the university and to Mum, so it saved me long bus rides every day. This time we actually had a room each as well, as opposed to the old flat where I'd had the bedroom and James had slept on a mattress in the kitchen.
"Yeah." I yelled out to James, slipping off my coat and throwing it onto the coat rack, doing the same with my scarf. "It's pouring out there. Could've sworn I just saw Noah ride by in a Citroen..."
Letting out a low laugh at my own joke I flipped the lightswitch to turn on the hallway light. Nothing happened. I cursed quietly, reasoning that the power must have finally gone. I felt my way into the kitchen, trying to remember where I'd put the candles or the torch, squinting through the darkness towards where I thought the fridge was. A flash of lightning illuminated the kitchen and I quickly made my way towards one of the drawers, ripping it open and grabbing the torch before the light dissapeared.
"Hey James, you need a torch?" I yelled out as I flipped the torch on, waving it around the kitchen to get my bearings. The sink was still by the window, filled with dirty dishes, but apart from that it was clean like it usually was. I didn't know what I was expecting to have happened...
Maybe elves had invaded the kitchen and re-stocked the pantry or something.
---
In July of 2001 we were in Germany to play the Rock am Ring festival in Nürburg.
We'd been put up in two adjoining rooms in the Novotel there, which was close enough to the festival grounds that we could hear some of the other bands.
For anyone who doesn't know, Rock am Ring is a three day music festival sponsored by MTV. The money you pay for your ticket also covers you to camp there over the three days. I guess it's kind of like the Glasto of Germany.
Anyway, that year Radiohead was playing, and somehow Grace had managed to get me and James side of stage to watch them play. They were amazing, as usual. Travis and the Manic Street Preachers were playing too, so I made my get away to see them play when they were on stage.
We were set to play on the second day of the festival at 10pm. By 9am Neal had already taken some kind of drug and was quite literally bouncing off the walls, James was moping around the rooms and Brian was sitting on his bed in his underwear, flipping through television stations that he couldn't understand anyway. I was on the phone to my girlfriend in England, listening to her breaking up with me.
"Look David," She said loudly, because I could barely hear her over the roar of the television and Neal. "I've met someone else. You're never here anymore. It's not working."
I sighed. I'd heard it before. It's not you, it's me. You're never here. I'm not good with commitment. It seemed all of my relationships ended with one of those three sentences these days.
"Look Anna, I really couldn't care less whether you left me or not. I have more important things to worry about at the moment. We both knew it was never going to work anyway. This relationship was just convenient for the both of us and that was it - there was never anything in it." Walking outside onto the balcony to escape the noise of the room, I was confronted with the heads of a hundred people three stories below. Fleetingly I wondered what they were doing.
On the other end of the phone I heard Anna start to sob. I didn't really care tough. The moment I had closed the sliding door to the balcony a hundred faces had looked at at me, and a hundred people had began to scream at me in unison.
---
Umm. Yeah. That's all I've got so far. If anyone wants me to, I might write more later. Bleh.
I was born on the first of August 1981, in Blackpool, England. My parents, Maggie and Paul, were owners of a small restaurant and I was practically raised there. By the age of seven I was working in the kitchen helping to wash dishes. By eight I was manning the cash register. At the age of nine I could cook tiramisu better than the head chef. By ten my father had left my mother for his gay lover.
He left Mum the house and the restaurant and flew to Hong Kong to start his new life there. Mum was in despair. She stayed in bed for four days, so I wagged school and looked after her and the restaurant, running the mile and a half between them four times a day so I could keep an eye on Mum as well. The staff at the restaurant were great and helped me out a lot. On the fifth day I managed to drag Mum out of bed and I went back to school like nothing had ever happened.
---
As a teenager I was always doing something; working in the restaurant with my mother, struggling to keep atop my schoolwork, doing odd jobs to try and help pay the rent. But the thing I loved doing most was playing my bass. The rent might not be paid and we'd have to sleep in the restaurant, or I might be packed off to my fathers for a week while Mum tried to get her head together, but the bass was always there.
In those years I always seemed to be in some band or rather. I remember the first band that I was in called Ron And The Illusions. Ron was a total prick, if I remember correctly, and hadn't a musical bone in his body. The rest of us tried to keep it together, but when the drummer and I got into a fierce fist fight one rainy afternoon in February, which resulted in me getting seven stitches and he getting concussion, we all realised that it wasn't going to last and promptly disbanded.
But I'd had a taste of being a musician, and it had been wonderful. I didn't care about getting famous or rich - I just liked the feel of being a part of something.
---
I was in the restaurant when I found out about my A levels. I'd done Food Tech, History, Music and German, and thankfully I'd passed all of them and was able to get into Blackpool College.
So I was going to College. I had mixed feelings about it. Part of me had wanted to escape to London and start working down there, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to leave my mother. Ever since Dad had left her for Graham she'd never been the same, and I wasn't sure that she'd be able to cope by herself if I left. At least if I stayed in Blackpool I could keep an eye on her and chip in at the restaurant when I got an off moment.
And this way I could stay close to Neal and James. We were looking for a drummer for the band, and it would have been awful of my to run out on them just as the band was starting to get going. We all knew that this was it. All the other bands that we'd been in hadn't meant a thing compared to The All Alones. The All Alones were actually going to become something.
---
There was an unspoken agreement between everyone that no one ever tried to get Grace into bed. We knew she was the best manager that we could ever hope for, and after the awful time we'd had with Simon none of us were too keen to loose her and have to go through the effort of finding a new one.
Whatever we got for a gig we split five ways: 20% for Neal, 20% for James, 20% for Brian, 20% for me and 20% for Grace. She deserved it. She probably deserved even more in those early days, when no one was keen to book us and she had to struggle to get us gigs. She always managed to get us something though, and slowly people became no so reluctant to have us perform.
We changed our name from The All Alones to The Cadavers as a nod to James' time at medical school, which he had then dropped out of by then. He began to work in a bookshop part time and moved in with me, splitting the rent on my little hovel.
By day I was a student at college, studying History and Politics, and by night I was a musician, playing in pubs and clubs that stank of stale piss.
---
"David? Is that you?" A meek little voice called out as I shut the door to the apartment.
It was mid July and a thunderstorm was pissing down outside, threatening to cut out the power if it continued much longer. I'd just moved into a slightly larger apartment with James, trying to escape the crime on the estate, trying to keep James from being mugged every time he stepped onto the street. It was like he had 'Rob Me' tattooed on his forehead.
The new apartment was also closer to the university and to Mum, so it saved me long bus rides every day. This time we actually had a room each as well, as opposed to the old flat where I'd had the bedroom and James had slept on a mattress in the kitchen.
"Yeah." I yelled out to James, slipping off my coat and throwing it onto the coat rack, doing the same with my scarf. "It's pouring out there. Could've sworn I just saw Noah ride by in a Citroen..."
Letting out a low laugh at my own joke I flipped the lightswitch to turn on the hallway light. Nothing happened. I cursed quietly, reasoning that the power must have finally gone. I felt my way into the kitchen, trying to remember where I'd put the candles or the torch, squinting through the darkness towards where I thought the fridge was. A flash of lightning illuminated the kitchen and I quickly made my way towards one of the drawers, ripping it open and grabbing the torch before the light dissapeared.
"Hey James, you need a torch?" I yelled out as I flipped the torch on, waving it around the kitchen to get my bearings. The sink was still by the window, filled with dirty dishes, but apart from that it was clean like it usually was. I didn't know what I was expecting to have happened...
Maybe elves had invaded the kitchen and re-stocked the pantry or something.
---
In July of 2001 we were in Germany to play the Rock am Ring festival in Nürburg.
We'd been put up in two adjoining rooms in the Novotel there, which was close enough to the festival grounds that we could hear some of the other bands.
For anyone who doesn't know, Rock am Ring is a three day music festival sponsored by MTV. The money you pay for your ticket also covers you to camp there over the three days. I guess it's kind of like the Glasto of Germany.
Anyway, that year Radiohead was playing, and somehow Grace had managed to get me and James side of stage to watch them play. They were amazing, as usual. Travis and the Manic Street Preachers were playing too, so I made my get away to see them play when they were on stage.
We were set to play on the second day of the festival at 10pm. By 9am Neal had already taken some kind of drug and was quite literally bouncing off the walls, James was moping around the rooms and Brian was sitting on his bed in his underwear, flipping through television stations that he couldn't understand anyway. I was on the phone to my girlfriend in England, listening to her breaking up with me.
"Look David," She said loudly, because I could barely hear her over the roar of the television and Neal. "I've met someone else. You're never here anymore. It's not working."
I sighed. I'd heard it before. It's not you, it's me. You're never here. I'm not good with commitment. It seemed all of my relationships ended with one of those three sentences these days.
"Look Anna, I really couldn't care less whether you left me or not. I have more important things to worry about at the moment. We both knew it was never going to work anyway. This relationship was just convenient for the both of us and that was it - there was never anything in it." Walking outside onto the balcony to escape the noise of the room, I was confronted with the heads of a hundred people three stories below. Fleetingly I wondered what they were doing.
On the other end of the phone I heard Anna start to sob. I didn't really care tough. The moment I had closed the sliding door to the balcony a hundred faces had looked at at me, and a hundred people had began to scream at me in unison.
---
Umm. Yeah. That's all I've got so far. If anyone wants me to, I might write more later. Bleh.