Uhura's Mazda
Banned
Prologue
1:54 AM, 19th August 1995
"Like so many of you,
I've got my doubts about how much to contribute
To the already rich among us"
1:54 AM, 19th August 1995
"Like so many of you,
I've got my doubts about how much to contribute
To the already rich among us"
A makeshift stage had been erected on the Pier Head, and at the moment, a fat old bearded bloke in a wheelchair was crooning into a microphone, to the seething distaste of the thousands of people who had, at the beginning of the night, crammed themselves into nooks and crannies in the human wall that gathered around the stage. Now, though, most were lolling about with their weary heads resting on the elbows of total strangers.
A distant smattering of gunfire woke up a few of the lighter sleepers, who had been lulled by a wash of high-pitched Kentish singing.
"How long can I pretend that music's more relevant
Than fighting for a socialist world?
Wah, wawawaah, wa-wa-wah, wa-wah..."
Than fighting for a socialist world?
Wah, wawawaah, wa-wa-wah, wa-wah..."
"Oh, for fuck's sake! Is that auld bastard really going to do another twenty minutes of fucking scat?" Gazza was, needless to say, getting quite impatient for the headliners to make their appearance. His mate Denzil roused himself at this outburst, and gently pushed a pair of legs off his abdomen, running his hand through his mohawk in the process.
"Go easy, Gaz - look at him sitting there in in his wheelchair. They've probably put him up there as a favour to someone. Jimmy Savile's gonna jump out of a van in a minute, just you watch!"
"Oh Christ, I fucking knew he'd have a trumpet up his sleeve somewhere!" The only people dancing were a gaggle of about eight hippies, who seemed to be under the impression that their heads were enveloped in massive balls of yarn.
"I reckon it's a cornet, actually. I know cuz of that time I ran into Jona Lewie in the pisser and - " Denzil loved telling this story a lot more than Gazza enjoyed hearing it. To tell the truth, Gazza was starting to - if not enjoy - then at least tolerate the lilting noises coming from the stage, but his sanity demanded that he cut off his mate's reminiscence with manufactured ire.
"Same cunting difference! Just let me stick that piece of bloody brass up his paralysed cock-hole - "
An explosion sent tremors through the crowd, and led to the collapse of a tower of amps and a hell of a lot of feedback. The cornet fell silent. Among the sleepy groans, Denzil could be heard giving in to the common resentment: "Oh, don't tell me he's lost his place again!"
Within minutes, the bearded singer had sped off the ramp stage left, to a smattering of polite applause. This applause stopped as soon as the MC bounded up and started spraying phlegm on the first dozen rows.
"That was Robert Wyatt, ladies and gentlemen, playing his first public performance since the Seventies! He's still got it, hasn't he? Now, a lot of people ask me: Alexei, why do you - " This story looked like it was going to go on for a while, so the hippies returned to their bongs and the skinheads to their moaning.
"He's not doing another joke, is he?" asked Gazza, fingering his nose-piercing, "Doesn't he know that no-one gives a shit about the emcee when the headliners are just about to come on?"
"Hey, shut the fuck up, Gazza! I like Alexei Sayle."
"He's been shit today though."
"True."
"...and I said, 'Tell that to Rudolf Hess!' And now, the moment you've all been waiting for! The reunion, for one night only, in this free Concert of Solidarity, the best band that's ever been... THE BEATLES!"
Thunderous applause rang out as John, Paul, George and Ringo filed out to their marks. As they swung their guitar straps over their shoulders in perfect unison, Lennon and McCartney shared a short, professional smile with one another, and began to play. After a few exploratory jangles reverberated around central Liverpool, the Beatles kicked into gear for the first time in a decade and a half. It was magic.
"Oh, flew in from Miami Beach B.O.A.C.
Didn't get to bed last night
On the way the paper bag was on my knee
Man I had a dreadful flight
I'm back in the U.S.S.R."
Didn't get to bed last night
On the way the paper bag was on my knee
Man I had a dreadful flight
I'm back in the U.S.S.R."
Gazza and Denzil didn't know how lucky they were.