Bright Town

1993 – First Meetings



Brighton, a small seaside town much like any other in England. Developed by the Prince Regent for rich cunts to holiday in way back when, and let’s face it, it hasn’t changed except that no fucker cares anymore. At least them rich fuckers took care of the place they knocked about in. Didn’t care about much else though did they? I gaze through the rain at the grand squares and lawns faded and peeling echoes of those affluent days gone by. The low clouds suffocate me as I battle against the wind, turning my face away from the bitter cold and looking out at where the shit brown sea meets the coal grey skies. My eyes are drawn to the derelict collapsing pier in to my right obstructing the glorified amusement arcade behind built to keep the peasants away from Ballrooms and Regency splendour. Says it all that the neon nightmare survived over the beauty and class. I guess time is a great leveller and now they are both piles of shit in their own way.

I begin to sing to myself as I try to light a damp cigarette. “Trudging slowly over wet sand……… This is the seaside town that they forgot to close down. Armageddon.” You’re not too far wrong there Morrisey and to think that this cold wet shite is supposed to be spring.

So why am I here? Why don’t I just stay at home in the warm? Well that is one of the great ironies of my generation. X… I believe we’re called or is it Y or why? That’s clever aint it, fucking Guardian readers intelligising everything don’t they? Intelligising? Is that a word? I bet it would be if one of those cunts said it, instead it’s just me being fucking stupid and uneducated. Anyway the irony of us wasters, the underclass or whatever you want to call us is that we can’t get out of bed and down the dole office on time to sign on for free money, but we will go to extraordinary lengths to get to a party. In fact not even a party just a nice place to get off our faces with our mates. In fact most of the time they are not actually that nice…. that is the crazy devil may care don’t give a fuck headonistic world we live in.

I arrive at Jonesy’s place right opposite The Lion and Lobster a couple of hundred yards back from the seafront. It is a basement place that lacks a little in creature comforts like furniture or food but more than makes up for with that lived in appeal. I knock loudly over the music and wait for them to argue about who is going to get the door… I knock again louder this time hurting my knuckles on the rough peeling paint….I continue knocking harder and harder until I am greeted by Jonesy wearing a pair of shorts, a highly tasteless Hawaiian shirt and no shoes. As if this vision wasn’t unsettling enough I am almost knocked over by the wave of heat escaping out of the door. “Heating’s fucked!” comes the explanation “Pull up a deck chair.” The sweet smell of skunk fills my nostrils as I walk down the narrow hallway into the lounge. I begin to laugh away the melancholy that was building up on the journey here as I set eyes on Moony, Moggsie and Dutch Rod sat in stripy deckchairs with their jeans rolled up, shirts off, clutching cocktails. Moony nods a hello and passes me a reefer, the white handkerchief on his head slips forward and a knot hits him in the eye.

“What the fuck are you lot drinking?” I demand.
“Margaritas!” says Jonesy as if nothing is strange “Want one?”
“Fucking right I do.” I say as I plonk myself down onto a deckchair. “So what’s the plan for tonight, Rod did you manage to blag the tickets?”
“Got the tickets mate, and managed to blag a bottle of tequila from work. You get the pills?”
I smile and lean back nodding and letting out a big cloud of smoke “Life is sweet tonight, Rod, life is sweet.” My sadness drifts off on the thick billowing smoke and with the help of my mates and an altered state of mine I start to think that spring may be sprining after all.



The Shark Club is a trip along the seafront, back through the wind and the sea spray. We are met at the door by Rob and Sarah the promoters and warm up Dj’s. They are both very excited because they got Paul Oakenfold in tonight. The queue winds along the baggy clothed wall of turned up collars and cold pale faces. Rob and Sarah drag us through the door and past the bouncers; I feel the bag of pills in my pants and give them a big smile. The club is sweaty, dark, small and really fucking loud. Sarah stuffs a pale looking beer into my hand complete with a bit of lime poking out of the top of the bottle. What’s wrong with a pint? I wonder to myself. Well I suppose you have to get into the swing of things and it is refreshingly lighter than a pint and I suppose better for clubbing. We exchange hugs and kisses and she runs off to the DJ box. I look around soaking up the vibe. I look around and see who is about. Over by the bar I spot Becs and her mates, standing and laughing. When I was at school there was nothing as intimidating as a group of girls laughing but now it looks like heaven. She catches my eye with hers like huge fucking saucers and hurries over.
“Hi baby, How are you guys’ she beams
The round of hugs and kisses begins, Becs, Tasha, Lizzy and someone I’ve never met before but is fully off her tits. Isla’s her name and I am encouraged by her nutted smile as she introduces herself. This is going to be a top fucking night. Oakenfold, a dirty sweaty noisy club and a posse of birds to get off our nuts with and one that perhaps wants a bit more.
“Let’s get on it” I announce as I walk off to the bogs to get my pills out.

As I return I pull out a pill and look at the others. They grin back as if taking the piss.

“You’ve all fucking done ‘em ‘aven’t you you cunts?” They all smile again a few breaking into evil little laughs.
“You’ve gotta keep up in this world” Smirks Jonsey.
I chuck the thing in my mouth and take a couple of swigs of my beer.
“What have you got?” asks Tasha
“Some of them pink things” replies Jonesy
“fuck, that’s what we’ve got” she says enthusiastically “They’re shit hot. I’m off my tits”
“That’s what I like to hear” I grin “I’ve got some more if you need, only tens for my favourite girls.
“Come on let’s have a dance, start as we mean to go on, get things rolling” orders Dutch Rod making his way through the thickening crowd to the dance floor.
We follow him as Moony lights a spliff. As we start to dance I become aware of the noise, the lights and the atmosphere. The nodding, smiling faces introduce us to the dance floor family. “Join us, we are here for you, we are here for you all.” They nod and smile in time. Mooney hands me the reefer and I take a long slow deep drag. I take a sip of beer and feel a warm nauseous feeling rising from my stomach. I take another toke and join the nodding masses. “And we’re off, see you later’ I smile at Jonesy and give him a warm hug. I think to myself as I smile and let my eyes gently close. ‘Things don’t get much better than this.’

Then they do. The music kicks up a notch, a funky bass line invades my head and picks up my feet. I lift my arm to salute the DJ (forgetting it is Sarah) and count the beats with my finger, smiling and riding the waves of bass as they run though my body knocking me off balance and disturbing the warm feeling and pushing it through my body. My eyes close again, I let a slow jet of air seep through my pursed lips until my cheek are sucked into the vacuum. I stumble a little and take a step back to steady myself, wait a beat so I can re-join the puppet family floating on that bass line, oh that fucking bassline! When I open my eyes again I see Isla mouthing “you okay?” and taking my hand. I hold her hand with both of mine, smiling and nodding in time with the music. She laughs and nods sympathetically and the world is a beautiful place.

Another rush builds in my stomach as I dance with Isla, lost in the music and Isla. The music is building and building, I watch Isla dancing, her smile rocking me onward and upward. Then the strobes take over and I’m dancing harder and harder, floating higher and higher.

Then the strobes cut off and the music drops away.
“Shit, we’ve been busted! Fuck! run!” My mind is screaming in panic “Everybody run! Where is everyone! NO…wait…we’re in a club…….it must be over…finished? I’ve only been dancing for a while.” In fact I am still dancing and so is everyone else. I look up and see Isla looking at me confused and a little concerned…for me? I obviously looked confused and off my nut.
“Ladies and Gentlemen” the voice over the PA “The moment you have all been waiting for”
I feel the penny drop and smile as I see the recognition on Isla’s perfect face. She stumbles forwards… I catch her.

“The one and only Mr Paul Oakenfold”
He rips straight into Funky Guitar, I take Isla’s hands and we’re off dancing as one being carried along by that infectious guitar riff.

I level off, conscious of where I am but no idea of how long I have been here. I am chewing furiously on a piece of flavourless gum, I have no ideas from where it came. I Dance with the boys for a bit pulling hard on a cigarette, feeling mellow and in control. I notice Isla is not around and ask Lizzy where she is. Lizzy smiles knowingly and points over to a little window sill just by the dance floor. She is sitting there nodding her head to the music, running her fingers through her hair and chewing furiously. I walk over trying not to stumble as I sit down next to her.
She smiles “Just dropped another and its coming on strong”
I hold out my hand and she grabs it and starts to knead it grinning and chewing like a trooper.
She Blows air through her lips and says “So Jimmy I’ve been in town a few months now… How come we have never met before?”
“I dunno” I say “I’ve known Tash for a couple of years”
“Yeah” she says “How come we’ve never met before? I will be speaking to Tash about this”
“Just bad luck” I grin
“Well it’s good that we’ve met now. Give us a hug”
The hug seems to last forever, I’m rushing the whole time. She ruffles my hair as we break off.
“Thanks Jimmy, you’ve completed my gouch” She says as she shakily stands and heads off to the dance floor looking back at me with a spaced out smile. I drop another pill and take a sip of water as I follow her. We re-join the gang with hugs and handshakes. The music kicks on and we dance and dance. I can’t believe I was feeling so low earlier. How do you feel bad, when life is this good?

The music builds and builds leading the crowd of devoted followers with it every inch of the way. The Whole room moving higher and higher until nothing…….the music fades and the lights rise. Everyone squints still moving but losing time as the puppet master drops the strings.
“One More!……One more” we shout as we clap involuntarily up towards the DJ box.
Oakenfold obliges which is lucky because we were going nowhere until we had another tune.

We stumble down the thin corridor sweat dripping down the walls and covering us in cool refreshing, sweaty salty condensation. Rob hands Mooney a piece of paper, Mooney looks confused and thinking it’s a flyer throws it away. I grab it just as it leaves his hand and put it in my pocket til we get outside. As we hit the cold night air I feel a little more in control. I take out the piece of paper and try to read it, I can make out that it is an address for an after party but can’t translate it as my eyes won’t focus. As I turn to the others I notice Isla walking out of the club looking around lost. I turn and wave her over. When she gets to me she puts her arm around my waist and smiles. I rush a little more.
“What you got there” she asks
“After party” I say as I put my arm round her shoulder and squeeze. She squeezes me back and my eyes fal further out of focus.
“I think he likes that” says Tasha as my eyes close and my head falls back with a huge smiles working across my face.





****** A party ********



Moggsie and I squeeze out of the door in to the bright pale spring morning sunshine. We had noticed it seeping through the cracks of the windows a few hours ago but resisted the inevitable end of the night as long as we could. We turned up our collars against the cold morning air and began to stagger slowly out to the road.

“Should have bought shades” remarks Moggsie.

I grunt a reply and begin down the road towards home. A trek of about 20 minutes if we use the old lean forward a bit and let gravity and instinct do the rest. We walk and talk discussing everything from women to football and when these days will ever end and what we might do if they do. We both agree wholeheartedly that these are the days my friends and we hope they never end.

“Got any of those pills left?” asks Moggsie

“About ten I think” I reply fiddling around for the bag to have a look.

“You must be getting better at not giving them away to everyone you meet”

I laugh my reply to conserve my energy

“Normally there are a whole load of pretty girls off their tits on your free drugs, you mug”

“….and I never get anything in return.”

“What about the other week when that girl was really into you but you got her so off her nut on pills and tequila that she threw up and went home” Moggsie laughs at the memory but all I can manage is a wry smile.

“She was georgous too, I really fancied her, shame she couldn’t keep up”

“Keep up!? She could hardly stand up!”

“I will keep these pills for next weekend, the girls are up for a beer or two on Saturday night, you coming?”

Then Moggsie’s voice changes, it changes to that stupid high pitch voice that blokes use when they talk about birds. “Ooohh did Isla invite you? You two look soooo in love!”

“Fuck off!” I smile, “she is a nice girl, that’s all.”

“That’s all? You two were all over each other tonight”

We reach Moggsie’s turn off and arrange to catch up after a few hours sleep for a few beers and reefers to sooth our broken heads.

Now it is just me alone with my thoughts, they are not much company either, at least I don’t think they are as I seem to forget them the instant are as soon as they form. I trudge along what will soon be a busy shopping street in Hove, trying to become invisible so the few shoppers already around don’t notice me and I don’t notice anyone I don’t want to meet, with my head like it is, the covers just about anyone and everyone.

I see a vaguely recognisable hazy shape approaching. Which I try to focus on as he gets closer. Struggling for a while I realise that it is Kane, a fucking lunatic who was in the year above me at school. Definitely not the kind of bloke you want to meet in a dark alley, not even the kind of bloke that you want to meet on an overcast spring morning. For someone who was rarely at school he certainly managed to build an impressive reputation for cruelty and vindictiveness. Now about twenty one years old he is surely too young to have done all the things that he is said to have done. He is certainly too old to change his look of evil, anger and aggression which seems to be permanently etched on his face. At school his friends, or should I say acquaintances as he has never really had any friends told stories of cruelty to animals and younger kids although oddly, rarely to any of his direct contemporaries. The stories were never confirmed and I suspect they are urban myths that have gained strength and outlandishness over years of retelling. I do know that his much fabled one eyed and three legged cat has been spotted, although ownership has never been proven. I suppose I was lucky to be considered an acquaintance, although I don’t feel that lucky right now because I know he is going to ask me for a fiver and when I don’t give him one he will ask for a smoke.

Does this meeting need to be described?

After we go through the usual ritual of an edgy meeting with him walking on with a lit fag in his mouth. I realise a few things: Firstly I realise that this same dance has been going on since school although the monetary amount has increased, I supppose that can be blamed on inflation. The other thing I realise is that both he and I are always alone when I bump into him and that I always meet him in the street, usually when I am off my face. More importantly though I realise that I find him intriguing and fascinating. There is something weird about him and the coincidence that we continue this morning. He has that charisma that makes me interact with him every time, this bloke cannot be ignored.

*********************************

I like this pub, a decent atmosphere and set away from the main parts of town and more importantly away from the tourists. The inside has seen better days, although I often wonder if anyone can remember them. A proper Brighton pub for proper Brighton people I always think. I get a couple of beers while Moggsie snags a pool table. Usually I love playing with Moggsie as we are about the same abilities, but today I am three games down in no time and starting to get pissed off.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today, you’re not fucking with it. Give me a game at least you mug.”

“Yes I know mate my head is all over the shop, I just can’t get it straight…..”

:Oh fuck!” he interrupts “let me guess? That bird from the party gave you the Spanish archer…… and now you are going about ‘thinking” about stuff.”

I laugh half-heartedly and go on. “She said something about wrong place, wrong time………..anyway that isn’t what I am on about. I have been thinking about packing all this in. I can’t do it any more, its killing me. Scratching about for enough money to go out and get off my nut, feeling like shit, putting my head back together and then starting all over again. Maybe I should get a job and become a weekender.”

I can see the horror in his eyes subside as he breaks into song. “Weekender …..fuck off, fuck off and die WEEeekEEEndaaRRR”

I take his point but just wish he could be serious for a moment. I look at him dancing about like a twat while I am going through the ringer. Just be serious for a fucking minute I think to myself. I just want him to listen, just take life seriously for a minute. Actually I don’t. The day I want this idiot to be serious is the day I really will pack it all in.

He sits down, sips his beer and wipe the froth and his smile away. “Where does this shit come from Jimmy? Only a few days ago you were all about this being the life. Best days ever, live it like you love it and all that.”

“That’s it though aint it, the up and downs, the highs are incredible but the lows are fucking killing me.”

“But that fucking is it. What goes up must come down. We make it through the other end, as some poet once said we drink the medicine, take the rough with the smooth and ride the waves.

I nod my acceptance of his point but he is off on one and won’t be stopped.

“Do you want to end up like your flat mate Steve? Mr fucking even? No ups and down? Just ‘alright’. Forever alright? That ain’t living my baby.

I fucking hate it when he calls people baby. Sometimes he thinks he is some kind of 60’s dandy.

“So you are going to go work for Amex or TSB are you? Go and be a cog, give your whole fucking life away, ‘work and work and then work til you die.’ Just like my old man eh? And yours, and what did they get for it redundancy, fucking redundancy and no chance of getting another job. On the scrap heap. Well fuck that! We are doing it, living the dream. ‘No corporation for this new age son’ remember what Weller said ‘tears of rage run down your face but still you say it’s fun’ We get fucked up now and worry about the rest later.

I know he is right, of course he is fucking right. I know because I’ve said the same thing to him. Right now I think I just needed to hear it.

“Anyway stop being so fucking selfish. If you fuck off then who am I going to drink with on Giro day?”

“Well you’d better fucking buy me one then you cunt!?” I laugh, as he reaches into his wallet.

He is about to hand me the money to go to the bar when he stops. The shifty body language tells me that he is about to tell me something….or he wants to tell me something……..or even worse, he doesn’t want to tell me something.

“That bird Jim, I think you have had a lucky escape, you know?”

I don’t fucking know but I want to “What are you on about?” I say accusingly.

“Go get the beers and I will tell you”

I glare at him and then decide that actually I might need a beer to hear this. Judging by the soppy look on his face anyway. I turn and move towards the bar and there she is, Standing in the doorway, clear as day, bold as brass just standing there looking lost. My heart melts, maybe she has come to find m, maybe she has changed her mind…….. Then behind her appears Kane. Build like a fucking house and looking shifty as fuck, shiftier than usual even inside, with other people about. Totally out of context. They move towards the other side of the bar heading straight into my eye line. Should I move, duck, what the fuck should I do? The last thing I want to do is see her, especially with him. What the fuck is she doing with him? I mean what the fuck?

“What can I get you mate?” The barman asks scaring the shit out of me and drawing attention to me at the same time. They both look over before I can even react. So there I am standing in front of the psycho and the bird that was all over me three nights ago.

“Two pints mate please” flicking my eye contact between both of them like a deer in the headlights of a truck and an oncoming train at the same time. I can’t help but wonder which is going to fuck my head more. Then I realise that Isla isn’t making eye contact with me, she has seen me but won’t look at me. The other night she seemed so confident, so free. This is like a different girl! Kane says something to her quietly but sternly in her ear and points to a table. She nods and goes to sit down obediently.

‘Ahhh fuck here we go.’ Kane walks around the bar to me.

“Are you buying these for me?” he says accusingly

“Alright Kane, no sorry mate, not my money.” I say trying to sound friendly.

“Well use your money then.”

“Sorry mate I’m skint”

Kane stares at me, just stares at me for what seems like forever. The barman puts my beers down and I start short and hand him the money.

“You’ve never got any fucking money! Perhaps you should think about earning some” Kane stares at me more, then breaks into a smile, at least I think it is a smile I would imagine it is as close as Kane gets to smiling. “Well I had best get back to my new bird.” He adds, now he is certainly not smiling, smirking maybe and eventually laughing as the barman asks what he wants.

I start to move away. “Well cheers then Kane, see you around” take a step or two backward and then turn.

“Got any fags then?” He says still watching the barman pour his drinks.

“Um yeah I do, they are at my table, I’ll get you one”

“Two”

I walk over to Moggsie and put the beers down, confusion and panic all over my face.

“What the fuck is with you?” Moggsie asks “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I reach over and pull out a couple of cigarette and walk off without a word. What am I supposed to say? I mean what the fuck just happened?

After delivering the smokes I sit opposite Moggsie not really knowing where to start…. So he does.

“That bird… she just breezed into their group from fuck knows where. Tash was saying that she hardly knows her but all of a sudden she is everybody’s best friend. But get this… she won’t tell anyone anything about herself, not ever her last name.” Moggsie smirks and snorts “Says she is just Isla…. You know like Madonna.