The BBC are running a competition of sorts for Radio 4's Opening Lines programme, with the chance for three selected short stories to be performed on air. I thought I would give it a go, and am quite pleased with what I came up with. However given that the chances of actually being selected are close to a lottery win I thought I would share an abridged version here.
Some years ago I heard on the Radio somebody doing a perky Ska version of Joy Divisions 'Love Will Tear Us Apart.' This made me wonder what it would be like if the tables were turned and Joy Division had secretly recorded some Skatalites covers. That I guess was the starting point for this.
I have not been blogging much of late and this could be a fun change of take. Its not that long so go the distance if you can and feedback gratefully received.
All the best
A Song Called Dynamite
It starts. The tic-ticking
time bomb rim shots on the snare drum give the game away. A huge cheer goes up
from the crowd. Mashie looks at me,
smiles and shrugs. He remembers the old scars.
I approach the mic. Another cheer in anticipation
of the ritual that binds us together.
‘Star bright.’ I say it cool
and understated. The crowd calls back,
‘STARBRIGHT!’
It began as a failed tribute
to The Skatalites. Just a bit of fun in the studio to ease the pressure. It’s
thirty years ago now. I didn’t even
realise the Studio Engineer had left the tape running. We were trying to record
our second album; ‘Punishment of Pleasure’ and things weren’t going that well.
It was Mashie’s idea, something to lighten the mood.
‘Skatalite.’
SKATALITE!
When the band broke up I cut
myself off from all this, even from the guys I hadn’t fallen out with. I got a job as a Housing Officer. It fitted
with my politics and I liked the anonymity. The next time I saw Mashie was in
2005. He didn’t recognise me, why would he, it had been a long time.
This silly song, we called
it Dynamite. It was like nothing else we did, just a laugh. Jordi the A&R
guy loved it.
‘Play me that song,
the one that goes boom.’ He asked for it over and over again.
I wasn’t happy when he said it
should go on the album. ‘It’s like making Trotsky wear a red nose.’ So then he suggested it as the B–side of the single.
‘Who cares about the B-side’
He put his arms around me in that big hearty Dutch way of his. I agreed, but
only if I could recite a poem about the arms trade over it. He wasn’t happy,
but I said ‘who the fuck cares about the B-side.’ He agreed. Too easily.
‘Kryptonite.’
KRYPTONITE!!!
At the launch party for the
single Jordi came and found me. ‘There’s been a cock up at the pressing plant. They’ve
made it a double A-side! Dynamite gets
equal billing.’ He pulled a sad clown face and braced himself for my tantrum.
After the band broke up
Mashie got into the alternative comedy thing. I never went to his gigs but I
followed the reviews. He did well
enough. Then tastes changed and he drifted out of sight. In 2005 I went to a
conference for work, something about leasehold disputes and the Right to Buy.
There was a session on team building.
‘Take Flight.’
TAKE FLIGHT!!!
Jordi got off lightly. I
laughed at him. The thought of Dynamite being an A side tickled me. It didn’t
matter. My foul mouthed poem would make sure it never graced Radio 1’s
breakfast show.
I was sitting at this conference
dreading the teambuilding activity. The Old Spice music came over the PA and
there was an attempt at a light show. A man bounded onto the stage, all teeth
and waistcoat, like a presenter on QVC. I
was about to open the sluice on an internal river of contempt, but something
snagged me.
‘Nice to see you, to see you….
Nice!’ I cringed for the man, but then
it dawned. Beneath the middle aged
spread and perma-tan it was Mashie, hopping around dishing out recycled jokes
from Brucie, Paul Daniels and Morecombe and Wise.
Anyway, all things were fine
with Dynamite. Nobody was going to play it, not even John Peel.
Then things weren’t fine anymore. I heard it
on the radio.
‘Look Right.’
LOOK
RIGHT!!!
Of
course you’ve guessed it. No foul mouthed rant against the arms trade. It was
the instrumental version, no poem. I went bonkers. The Manager tried to pretend
it was mistake. The guys were all behind me. We weren’t going to promote it, or
play it. They had conned us. Then it appeared at No 28 in the charts.
‘Skatalite.’
SKATALITE!!!
‘It’s
Top of the Pops, for god’s sake.’ Mashie whined. I stood my ground, but the
guys weren’t with me now. Mashie started going on about how this would bring us
a wider audience. I said we should stick to our guns and play the proper
A–side. Jordi went bonkers this time, and I got in a fight with Mashie over it.
A proper fight. The scars aren’t only on the inside. When we all had nothing politics
was easy. I thought Mashie was like me. But from then I knew he wasn’t. For him
to appear on ToTP’s was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I felt the same, but
in reverse. For me it was a once in a lifetime chance to refuse.
‘Dynamite.’
DYNAMITE!!!
Dynamite
reached number 11 after ToTP. I was stuck with it. I tried refusing to play it
at a gig. The Tour Manager said the crowd would burn the venue down. I did it
with the poem and people booed. Later we did it as first song, but the rest of
the gig just went flat. We did it as an encore but people simply shouted for it
all night.
‘Take Fright.’
TAKE
FRIGHT!!!
In
the end Dynamite got pride of place at the end of our set, with this ridiculous
holiday camp introduction. I feel like the guy from Black Lace doing ‘Agadoo’
every time I have to go through it. We broke up after three albums of brooding
art punk, declining sales and one huge novelty hit. I hated it, and hated the
band for it. I didn’t even own a copy.
Mashie
never admitted it but the reason he wanted to reform the band was because he
was broke. After the credit crunch demand for his brand of pricey ‘Teambuilding
for Corporate Excellence’ lost its market. He’d acquired expensive tastes. That
day at the conference I eyeballed him getting into his flash new car. He’s
still got it. There’s something about out of date luxury that broadcasts failure.
If you could afford to buy a new Porsche Cayenne seven years ago why are you
still driving it today?
He
owned the band’s name, and saw the opportunity to improve his balance sheet.
‘If The Selector and Stiff Little Fingers can do it why not us?’ Why not
indeed.
‘Dynamite.’
All
hush now. The calm before the storm. We’re getting near the big moment.
He could have done the tour without me, but it
was a bigger payday with me back in the fold. He was surprisingly uncertain
when he called. But I found it easy saying yes. I realised my rage was gone. When
I saw us listed as ‘Veteran South London Post Punks best known for the
instrumental ‘Dynamite,’ I could smile. It was being called a veteran that hurt
the most.
With
a theatrical flourish I cup my hand to my ear. The crowd screams. I stomp it
out now, like child running down the stairs.
‘Star
bright, skatalite, kryptonite, take flight, look right, skatalite, dynamite,
take fright, dynamite!’
A moment’s
pause then the crowd answers,
BOOM!!!!!!
The
tune kicks in. The room is a sea of bouncing heads. Older heads now, bald by
nature rather than design, but loving it.
I try to remember my poem about the arms trade, but not a word comes to
mind.
