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Showing posts from December, 2011

The Young Mod's Forgotten Story - Part 3

It’s the 15th December, 1981. I’m on the train from Orpington to Victoria with a £4.50 ticket in my pocket to see The Jam at Hammersmith Palais. I’ve been buzzing since it came though the post. I’ve got that feeling, something's shifting. I’m adrift, looking for a place to be.
There's been no album this year. Three singles. In February That's Entertainment - an acoustic beat poem; a stream of consciousness lovesong for suburban kids as if Weller’s writing a Terry and Julie for our generation. ‘Getting a cab and travelling on buses, reading the graffiti about slashed seat affairs’. The summer saw Brixton, Toxteth and St Pauls on fire. Not to be outdone, it even kicked off in Orpington High Street, which pretty much made it the usual Saturday night. The riots played out with Ghost Town on Top of The Pops. In June Funeral Pyre was released with its jagged edges and Weller’s lyrical directness, but it sounds like Buckler’s drum kit’s being kicked down a flight of stairs: not th…