Sinister: I'm lucky I can open the door and I can walk down the street

[Madeleine McNeil]

I have been trying out which songs are best to listen to on my personal 
stereo, whilst walking through town of an evening, and I think that Dirty 
Dream #2 is just about the best.

It works like this: Press PLAY at the beginning of the green album and climb 
on the bus, listen to it non stop on the way into town. A Space Boy dream is 
half way through as you get off the bus in town. You listen to it as you 
stride purposefully round the corner, past the cash machines spitting out 
money to the Top Shop kids posing beside them. You pass the taxi rank, 
resisting the urge to jump in a cab for the five minute journey. The Town 
Hall clock glows about you, you check it, not too late not too early. It 
chimes for 9.15 pm. Down the main shopping street, skillfully avoiding the 
buskers and the few homeless figures stretched out in front of the bank. 
They speak to you but you can't hear a word as the music seeps into your 
head. A little further, past McDonalds, where the bouncers stand outside, 
laughing, in their long black coats, their cups of coffee steaming in the 
air. Past the RAWK club, where you may even end up that night, if you're 
drunk and defenseless enough by closing time. And then it's time to run the 
gauntlet. The row of four pubs, each selling cheaper drink than the last. 
Girls in strappy sandals and boys in identikit shirts and chinos stand 
outside, pushing each other, seeing how the night is shaping up. Their 
mouths move soundlessly as you push your way through, with every step 
feeling their eyes on your battered shoes and non-glam jeans and sensible 
coat ensemble. You focus on the sound in my head as you breeze by them, and 
are untouchable.

Next obstacle: the underpass. You grasp your keys in one hand, a lit fag 
between the fingers of the other. That way, you can burn or hit any 
attacker. Your shoulders tense as you walk down the steps, but then Dirty 
Dream #2 starts, and you hear the soaring violins, and to be truthful, you 
think a little about sex and as you walk through the underpass, under the 
strip lighting, you heart lifts, and you're floating, you're fucking flying 
and you dare them, dare any single one of them out there to try you now and 
you're walking on air with this sound in your head and your blood. You leave 
the underpass, breath a little easier, reaching the canal as The Boy With 
the Arab Strap begins. You pause to look a moment over the moon on the water 
and the swams leaving V-shaped paths in current. The recorders are playing 
as you reach the pub and finally press STOP. You go into the pub and kiss 
the loved one on the mouth and as you stand at the bar waiting for drinks, 
you realise that no one else knows how full you heart is, but it doesn't 
seem to matter.

Love
Madeleine

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