Shaky

Elvis - Way Down


Punk rock burnt out in a nihilistic blaze. In two years joyous party had focused on two heroin addicts in New York. Whether syd killed Nancy in their opiate barbiturate stew, whether neon Leon, or reds, or any other junky stabbed her and took the money syd had just recieved I don't think he even knew. After a spell rattling on rykers Island prison, syd was released into his mothers arms. Herself a long term junky she had bought some good strong gear to welcome john home. After spaghetti bologna se the main course put syd in a bluey. Once he came round he retired to bed. Syds mother, never a reliable character believes he must have come and got the heroin from her pocket while she slept and killed himself. He had previously attempted suicide, cutting his wrists futilely in jail.
Shakin Stevens was the biggest selling singles artist of the 1980s in the UK. Such was the state of the nation. Elvis final message from beyond the grave pointed to us where to look. Way on down, beneath the surface of the earth, that was where the true future of endless rock and roll lay. Colonel Parker took out a full page advert in some magazine stating simply "Jesses Coming". Stevens knew where it was at but with rigid pelvis his humble, puny shaking was never going to move the earth. Unlike jesses girations, more powerful than mole from thunderbirds when used for burrowing. The green door, the grass beneath kept the secret, Stevens knew but despite him hearing the laughing and partying, jesse weren't going to go let no peckerwood down there.
So as the nation jives in rigid, formalised dancing to "Hotdog" and "You dwive me cwaeeayeezy" jesse built forces ready to break through and save mankind from drudgery. Many saw it strange that an entire industry, coal mining, the force that powered the empire, should be attacked by a government led by Margaret thatcher. An Iron Lady committed to the destruction of all fun. Similar to cromwellian new puritans her tribe had heard of the trouble brewing up north. A free festival culture had arisen from LSD that focussed on an annual party at Stonehenge. By the early 80s it had become a virtual mirror to jesses underworld rock and roll heaven/hell. But this would have to wait. The acid production had been stopped in 1977 by Operation Julie, the biggest operation in british police history. More forces, more police have never before nor since worked together to stop anything. Paedophile a, heroin, all allowed to spread but the religious transcendence brought about by LSD threatened the status quo of grey which has ruled since cromwellian times.
The miners had come close to breaking through, opening our world to jesses . Some older miners had claimed to have jibed, even bopped with jesse. Most old Elvis fans anyway it came kinda natural. Underground in pitch darkness the mind takes on a hallucinatory state. Close to the LSD experience and it is usually under these conditions one meets with Jesse. To this day, though most died young, such was the life expectancy of a miner, around Askern, Doncaster, connisburgh and other villages, old men will regale you for the price of a pint how close they came to defeating the grey. How thin the dividing coal seem was to colours so resplendant human eyes cannot fully adapt. Only after years with jesses love army can one see the whole spectrum. And, I'm telling you, red to green ain't more than A to G in our alphabet. Music too, all heard the music.
Once news of this reached london thatcher held back her plans to destroy the New Age travellers and set her sites on the enemy within. Some were bribed with £10 plus another thousand for each year they had worked, often figures of £50000 and more were paid out so long as the miners kept above ground. Most saw this as the bribe it was. How can a man put a price of eternal rock and roll subterranian psychedelia and transcendence? There is no price. The strike was long and hard but the miners knew they were right. Even Thatcherite numbskulls could see the maths. These pits made money. Whole cultures, towns and villages were dependent on them. There was no logic. Unless one knew of jesse, new puritans and the nations historic battle against the grey and its exponents.
Finally, in what became known as The Battle of Orgreave, a coke smelting plant thousands of police fought miners. A war for colour, beauty, transcendence masked in black coal dust was beaten down by black clad foot soldiers, obuyers of Thatcherite grey. Cromwellian new puritans, they smashed the colour of the miners and the closest we have ever been as a nation to linking up with jesses world.
Those villages now lie idle. Most youths take to heroin, a drug never clamped down on as they did with LSD. So invasive, so permissive in its control it is no leap to say the police encourage the subjugation it brings. Entire villages, broken fathers had their winchesters of codeine, their children all on brown afghany heroin. Such is the punishment for trying to meet up with jesse. And Richard Kemp, other LSD manufacturers dealt out 35 year sentences. Something a murderer would not expect.
Once the miners were smashed thatcher and her new puritans took on the free festivals. Though taking place anywhere quiet land could be found, causing little disturbance, these New Age travellers rejected the grey. In the early 80s, around the time of Elvis mimic Shakys "Hotdog"