asked.
—Forget it.
—Wha’ happened your brother?
—Forget it, Billy.
—I was oney askin’.
—Annyway, said Jimmy. —Do yis agree with me?
—Ah yeah ——o’ course, oney——
—We’ll get a Heroin Kills banner for behind the drums, said Jimmy.
—Hang on, said Deco. —Wha’ abou’ the niggers in America, the real soul fellas, wha’ abou’ them? They all smoke hash. ———Worse.
This was Joey The Lips’ field.
—Not true, Brother. Real Soul Brothers say No to the weed. All drugs. ——Soul says No.
—Wha’ abou’ Marvin Gaye?
—Wha’ abou’ him? said Jimmy.
—He died of an overdose.
—His da shot him, yeh fuckin’ sap.
—A bullet overdose, said Billy.
—Sam Cooke then, said Deco.
—I don’t know wha’ happened him. ——Joey?
—Died under very mysterious circumstances, said Joey The Lips. —A lady.
—Enough said.
—I’m sure he was lookin’ for it, said Imelda.
—Phil Lynott, said Deco.
—Fuck off, said Jimmy. —He wasn’t soul.
—He was black.
—Ah, fuck off an’ don’t annoy me. ——Get ou’ o’ my life. ——Annyway, do yis agree abou’ the hash? An’ the heroin, like?
—Yeah.
They all nodded or stayed quiet.
—Can we smoke it after the rehearsal, Jimmy? Billy asked.
—Yeah, sure. No problem.
* * *
It was another week later.
James was late so Joey The Lips was going to put Deco through a new song, James Brown’s Out of Sight.
—You’re sure you know it now?
—O’ course I’m sure.
—Okay then. Off you go. ——A one——
Deco put his hands to his ears.
Outspan nudged Derek.
—Fuckin’ tosser.
Deco sang.
—YOU GOT YOUR HIGH HEELED
SNEAKERS ON——
YOUR STUFF IS NEW——
YOU GOT YOUR HIGH HEELED
SNEAKERS ON —
SIMON HARTS —
YOUR GEAR IS NEW——
YOU’RE MORE THAN ALRIGH — HI —
HIGH’——
YEH KNOW—
YOU’RE OU’ O’ SIGH’ ——Fuck!
Jimmy had come in and made it obvious he wanted The Commitments to notice him when he threw an empty 7-up can at Deco’s head.
—Wha’ was tha’ for? Deco shouted.
—I don’t like yeh, said Jimmy. —An’ I’ve a bit o’ news for yis.
—So yeh hit ME?
—It didn’t hurt, an’ neither will me bit o’ news.
—Ooh! said Imelda. —Sounds good.
—It is, ’melda, it is indeed. An’ you’re lookin’ lovely tonigh’.
—Thank you, Jimmy. An’ you’re lookin’ horrible as ever.
—The news, said Joey The Lips.
—Are we goin’ to have The Angelus first or somethin’? said Outspan.
James came in.
—Sorry. ——Puncture.
—Jimmy’s got news, James, said Bernie.
—But he’s keepin’ it to himself, said Imelda. (And she sang this bit.) —BECAUSE HE’S A BOLLIX.
—Are yis ready?
—Ah stop, Jimmy.
—Well, I’ve been busy for the last couple o’ nights.
—Yeh dirty man, said Deco.
Billy thumped him.
—I’ve been negotiatin’, said Jimmy.
—Janey!
—That’ll make yeh deaf.
They laughed, but only for a little while.
—I’ve got us a venue for our first gig.
—Fuckin’ great!
There were cheers and grins.
—When?
—Tomorrow week.
—Fuckin’ hell!
—It has to be then, said Jimmy. —Because the bingo caller ——yeh know Hopalong ——him, he’s goin’ into hospital for the weekend to get a tap put into his kidneys or somethin’, so it’s the only nigh’ the place is free.
—The community centre?
—Yeah.
—Tha’ kip!
—From little acorns, Brothers and Sisters, said Joey The Lips.
—Barrytown Square Garden, wha’, said Outspan.
—Hang on, said Derek. —No slaggin’. It’ll do for a start. ——Thanks, Jimmy.
—Yeah. Thanks, Jim.
—No sweat.
—We bring the music to the people, said Joey The Lips. —We go to them. We go to their community centre. That’s soul.
—No one goes there, Joey, said Outspan. —’cept the oul’ ones tha’ play the bingo.
—An’ the soccer. They change there, said Derek. —An’ the operetta society, an’ the Vinny de
—Forget it.
—Wha’ happened your brother?
—Forget it, Billy.
—I was oney askin’.
—Annyway, said Jimmy. —Do yis agree with me?
—Ah yeah ——o’ course, oney——
—We’ll get a Heroin Kills banner for behind the drums, said Jimmy.
—Hang on, said Deco. —Wha’ abou’ the niggers in America, the real soul fellas, wha’ abou’ them? They all smoke hash. ———Worse.
This was Joey The Lips’ field.
—Not true, Brother. Real Soul Brothers say No to the weed. All drugs. ——Soul says No.
—Wha’ abou’ Marvin Gaye?
—Wha’ abou’ him? said Jimmy.
—He died of an overdose.
—His da shot him, yeh fuckin’ sap.
—A bullet overdose, said Billy.
—Sam Cooke then, said Deco.
—I don’t know wha’ happened him. ——Joey?
—Died under very mysterious circumstances, said Joey The Lips. —A lady.
—Enough said.
—I’m sure he was lookin’ for it, said Imelda.
—Phil Lynott, said Deco.
—Fuck off, said Jimmy. —He wasn’t soul.
—He was black.
—Ah, fuck off an’ don’t annoy me. ——Get ou’ o’ my life. ——Annyway, do yis agree abou’ the hash? An’ the heroin, like?
—Yeah.
They all nodded or stayed quiet.
—Can we smoke it after the rehearsal, Jimmy? Billy asked.
—Yeah, sure. No problem.
* * *
It was another week later.
James was late so Joey The Lips was going to put Deco through a new song, James Brown’s Out of Sight.
—You’re sure you know it now?
—O’ course I’m sure.
—Okay then. Off you go. ——A one——
Deco put his hands to his ears.
Outspan nudged Derek.
—Fuckin’ tosser.
Deco sang.
—YOU GOT YOUR HIGH HEELED
SNEAKERS ON——
YOUR STUFF IS NEW——
YOU GOT YOUR HIGH HEELED
SNEAKERS ON —
SIMON HARTS —
YOUR GEAR IS NEW——
YOU’RE MORE THAN ALRIGH — HI —
HIGH’——
YEH KNOW—
YOU’RE OU’ O’ SIGH’ ——Fuck!
Jimmy had come in and made it obvious he wanted The Commitments to notice him when he threw an empty 7-up can at Deco’s head.
—Wha’ was tha’ for? Deco shouted.
—I don’t like yeh, said Jimmy. —An’ I’ve a bit o’ news for yis.
—So yeh hit ME?
—It didn’t hurt, an’ neither will me bit o’ news.
—Ooh! said Imelda. —Sounds good.
—It is, ’melda, it is indeed. An’ you’re lookin’ lovely tonigh’.
—Thank you, Jimmy. An’ you’re lookin’ horrible as ever.
—The news, said Joey The Lips.
—Are we goin’ to have The Angelus first or somethin’? said Outspan.
James came in.
—Sorry. ——Puncture.
—Jimmy’s got news, James, said Bernie.
—But he’s keepin’ it to himself, said Imelda. (And she sang this bit.) —BECAUSE HE’S A BOLLIX.
—Are yis ready?
—Ah stop, Jimmy.
—Well, I’ve been busy for the last couple o’ nights.
—Yeh dirty man, said Deco.
Billy thumped him.
—I’ve been negotiatin’, said Jimmy.
—Janey!
—That’ll make yeh deaf.
They laughed, but only for a little while.
—I’ve got us a venue for our first gig.
—Fuckin’ great!
There were cheers and grins.
—When?
—Tomorrow week.
—Fuckin’ hell!
—It has to be then, said Jimmy. —Because the bingo caller ——yeh know Hopalong ——him, he’s goin’ into hospital for the weekend to get a tap put into his kidneys or somethin’, so it’s the only nigh’ the place is free.
—The community centre?
—Yeah.
—Tha’ kip!
—From little acorns, Brothers and Sisters, said Joey The Lips.
—Barrytown Square Garden, wha’, said Outspan.
—Hang on, said Derek. —No slaggin’. It’ll do for a start. ——Thanks, Jimmy.
—Yeah. Thanks, Jim.
—No sweat.
—We bring the music to the people, said Joey The Lips. —We go to them. We go to their community centre. That’s soul.
—No one goes there, Joey, said Outspan. —’cept the oul’ ones tha’ play the bingo.
—An’ the soccer. They change there, said Derek. —An’ the operetta society, an’ the Vinny de
Similar Books
