thisisallonewordpress

We’re over the cold snap, after work I’m more than comfy walking round in shirt and scruffy jacket. Where as I used to walk at lunchtimes I have of late taken to staying in, sat at my desk where its warm, so a bit of a walk is long overdue. There’s no great need to be home either; the whole weekend is ahead of me and, as ever, I suspect the majority of it will be spent inside, so I can happily set off without paying much mind to where it is that I am going.

Through Westminster underground station to avoid the traffic lights and main roads above and then out next to the Thames, passed a new busker on the officially assigned street-performers marked pitch – the usual bloke only plays Bob Marley, and only one of Bob’s songs at that, I think it must be redemption song but small doubts nag me to say maybe its not.

I take it that liking Bob Marley is a universal constant, like the speed of light? Although of course the speed of light is not always constant – try light through liquid nitrogen at close to absolute zero and it travels about the speed of a traditional bicycle. But does anyone actually & actively dislike his music? Redemption song was covered by the late, great Joe Strummer and its his version that stays in my mind whenever I hear the song, his London, not-cockney, voice closer to mine than any Jamaican accent is and if I sing the song to myself, inside my head, then I do not try and adopt some cod-reggae accent. Strummer, I guess, adopted his London, punk(ish) voice, shedding his middle class well educated inflections which is one thing but at least he never went down Stings vocal route.

The Thames greets me with rows of wooden huts selling river cruises to tourists. I’ve never taken a boat down the river and its something I would very much like to do. I can happily fantasise that I helm some decent sailing boat both lazily and when its gusting, along the river from Rotherhide as far west as I can get. Strolling along the North bank listening to my mp3 player; Rancid – ‘…and out come the wolves’ – an album that still invigorates me with some long lost youth. I think to myself that ‘journey to the end of the east bay’ is one of the greatest songs ever written and tease over the possibility that its better than ‘In my life’ by the Beatles. Both songs have comparable stories of travelling and expectations not matching reality but there’s love in both for a period of time. Only one has that righteous punk wonder though.

Across the river the London Eye looms large and magical and I wish that I carried my camera with me. I wonder if I could take some sort of slow release picture and what the lights would look like. This reminds me of Ben’s photo’s of street lights which showed the phosphorescence arcing out from the head of the light across the night sky. What’s he up to now I wonder? Maybe Phil knows…

I cut through Embankment station and walk up towards The Strand, I try and work my way through throngs of people drinking outside of a wine bar but there is maintenance work going on and the route is blocked. I thread my way up to Covent Garden, past multitudes of shops, pubs and cafes all seemingly catering solely for Kiwis, Aussies and Springboks.

I now have a destination in mind; Neal’s Yard Rough Trade. I quicken my pace, winding, side stepping, overtaking, squeezing through the throngs of shoppers that now seem to be planted in the ground outside shops, a dense forest of stationary, bag carrying, aimless obstacles to my record shop. Partly immaterial due to said record shop having relocated some 2 years previously, a fact that the skate shop owners who sit a floor above the old basement imparts with a half smile to suggest that he’s been saying this for 2 years and expects to be saying this to wondering vinyl junkies for years to come. Although they must cull skate shop employees when they reach a certain age, 26 maybe, so he might not have long to go.

Off through Soho next, where I end up outside Sounds Of The Universe, ogling the 12″s on display and reminding myself that I need to buy that Boxcutter/Kinnego Flux record. It’s a great record shop but I limit myself to whatever money is in my pocket and after flicking through the dubstep I get the above record (good stuff) and a Peverelist 12″ – Clunk Click Every Trip/Gather – the second of those is rather fine indeed.