Sock Free Hideaway

BEATS OF LOVE

47. You Set The Scene by Love 

I ACTUALLY solemnly lay on my bed dying after swallowing a jar of sleeping tablets, playing The Spacemen 3 whilst my mates played Subbuteo downstairs. It would've preceded the Kurt Cobain suicide by a few weeks, but before the first side of Playing With Fire had even finished, I dashed downstairs in a mad panic and phoned for my own ambulance. To much laughter from my pissed mates who simply carried on. Four days later, I was walking back home after narrowly avoiding the psychiatric ward. 

I didn't know it back then, but I was actually knee deep in love for the first time in my life, but only with the idea of being in love. It took that extreme measure to recognize that it actually was wholly unrequited. What my mates were telling me all along. The fall-out from the sorry episode galvanized me as I finally became myself again. Still hopelessly confused, and self-obsessed, but definitely me.  

What caused me to flip was the fall-out of a violent altercation with someone I wrongly identified as my nemesis. He was built like a gorilla and I was jealous coz he was sitting with the girl who should've been in America with me. This had all been arranged on our only date. The fact he was a bully gave my jealousy some cover, but my mates saw right through it and knew I'd fucked up. 

The old bill informed me that I needed to stay sober as any further altercation would be seen as just another a drunken brawl. I was duly ready to say goodbye to my teeth, nursing my orange juice, when sure enough he predictably charged toward me, but then, to my surprise, a boozer full of mates and regulars kicked the shit out of him before he could get to me. 

Playing Forever Changes all the time gave me the courage to face him again. This epic closing song, in particular, became a daily mantra of sorts. I was back from the dead and intent on facing each day with a smile, certain that luck was now on my side as I finally left town. 

Many folks that I knew weren't lucky enough to live to see Arthur playing the Academy on the most mind-blowing Monday night gig ever, period. Especially poignant as this wonderful song re-worked its magic on me and I felt born again, again, listening to those trumpets despite them being replaced by guitars. Hairs on the back of my neck stood on end for days after.   

Formed out of fragments from three unfinished works, it still consoles someone with its sheer force. Everyone else is highly wary of, which embodies its outlaw nature. If I'm still lucky, it'll be my deathbed song.