Shall we take a trip down memory lane to Somewhere Only we Know where we all went a tad Insane in the membrane. Where stair dwellers, and shoe gazers, met boys in hats wearing velvet blazers, over and over again. Doc boots on a Hippychick, New Shoes, to the carpet stick! My Generation had no Geordie Shores for our Teenage Kicks, just Newcastle Brown Ale and plain, old sick.
They told me I’m an indie kid until I started to rave but Freaky Dancin‘ was all I really craved. This Music is Shit play some Kylie. There She Goes again, the DJ’s laugh, looking a tad wily. You’re Unbelievable, Rashelle, it’s too cheesy to be cool but singing Hallelujah and Spinning Around I knew I was Nobody’s Fool. I was Losing my Religion but I had found My Church and on the door, we were greeted by a guy we called Big Lurch. In the Clubbie, an Unfinished Symphony had begun, Dancing in the Dark we were shone on by The Suns and as Shiny, Happy People twirled under a Waterfall we were introduced to a girl named Victoria by a band called The Fall.
She’s a Rainbow we discovered Dancing Naked in the Rain as we teleported to a Mersey Paradise over and over again. We got to know The Shamen who taught us to Move any Mountain and fed our souls with spiritual food before introducing us to a shady guy named Ebenezeer Goode.
I missed the party when The Farm came to town and as they sang All together now at Tracey’s, wee Shelley did frown. We made for the border and networked a lot, we were a tad naughty but never got caught. From Soul to Soul to Robbie’s Angel, we have stories to tell and though we had Sympathy for the Devil we didn’t go Straight to Hell. With No Limits, we wandered into Strawberry Fields and discovered Groove is in the Heart, Learning to Fly, as we planned the Revolution we’d start.
On the Last Train to Transcendental we went a bit mental as we asked What Time is Love? And,/ in the light of the Blue Sunshine danced with a Looking Glass Girl wearing The Glove.
Another Brick in the Wall left us quite dazed but as The Doors opened, we were no longer fazed. On a Perfect, Fairground Attraction trying to get some action but it seems I can’t get no Satisfaction. Still, I Feel Good, as I down a Funky, Cold Medina before I Turn Around and see myself as a Dancing Queen crowned by Abba.
His Girlfriend in a coma, plays In the Dark, as we remember old friends who on our hearts left a mark. Feeling ridiculous as we Sit Down with James, before we Jump Around to House of Pain. Wearing My Favourite Dress wondering Should I stay or Should I go? before tequila slammers get me in a mess. I Wanna be Adored but it’s Closing Time so grab your coats, there’s a party at mine.
Where’s me Jumper? I Scream over the noise as I fall into the eyes of a gorgeous boy. “Are you going to go my way?” I whisper, Like a Prayer as someone cries “Touch me, I’m Sick” from the Clubhouse stairs. “Help!” he moans as he spews into his combats, while wearing a kaftan. “Everything’s Gonna be All RIght, Just Relax and Enjoy Yourself, Rocketman.”
“ I Knew You Were Waiting” I beamed. Things Can Only Get Better, unless this is just a D-Ream. “Ever fallen in love? he asks as I swoon, under the light of The Whole of the Moon. This could be a Perfect Day if you Touch Me, I think to myself, maybe I’m being Naive and I’m really on the Highway to Hell. It’s a Sin, but I can’t resist this Temptation. Electric Dreams fill my mind and deliver a New Sensation and my heart explodes in Fascination.
You’re a Wild Thing, little Foxy Lady he whispers as the Purple Rain soaks us under the light of the moon. Be My Bloody Valentine, I plead. He nods and reply’s “I will be, Soon.”
“Do you remember the first time?” I asked “What’s the story, morning glory? in the Love Shack?”
“Is this A Kind of Magic? you whispered back . We walked home together, hand in hand, and with One Kiss, we transported to Wonderland.
Mods, rockers, sinners and saints, Under the Bridge back in the day.
Imagine that, now all that’s left to say is Thank You for the Music to friends new and old, from down Paisley way.
Love and Laughter , Rashelle
Yesterday the rage burned
Writing for Freedom 