Published on 12, July, 2020
Me -yep, plenty.
Music is one of the few things that keeps me alive. I sometimes contemplate the concerts I got dragged to by my partner at the time, as a youngster in the 80s.
I was there but not there, if you get me. While the thousands in the crowd at Manchester Apollo jumped out of their seats, punching the air, making devil horns, playing air-guitars and head-banging - I stood there like a block of wood feeling super mega uncomfortable and bewildered. I would always white out and can't remember a single thing from any of those gigs. All I also remember from Donington back then were the awful horrendous toilets and the panic about getting back through a ginormous sea of tens of thousands of people to get back to my partner! Why didn't I take photos? Keep souvenirs? - I have no idea, other than that I was there, but not there.
I came across some photos online a few months back that someone had uploaded from Donington at that time and weirdly (in a where's waldo moment), I was able to pick us out in the ginormous crowd of teeny tiny people!! And yet, I remember almost nothing about it!
Pity I can't go back though with the knowledge I have now!
Being born in one of the most deprived council slums of Europe
Amen to that. It's near impossible to climb out as well.
lol all my old mates are either dead, in jail, in the psych ward or worse. I climbed out, but for what?
For you? I do not know. For me, revenge.