Flying Saucer Rock & Roll

by Richard Blandford

  We were the first kids our age to go there, but as the first weeks of the summer passed, and more and more exams were sat, it was inevitable we’d be joined by others. Still, we felt being first gave us a kind of superiority. Greeted by the sixth-formers we knew from the youth club, it seemed like we were being made honorary members of their society. The society of adulthood. Adult in the cool sense of drink, drugs and sex, not the boring sense of having to go to work all the time and growing old and going bald and having kids and stuff.

  There was no spliff that night, although we were told that other nights there had been and they’d try and get some next week.

  There was beer, though, and cider. We all took a swig, well, other than Jenny, who was teetotal and tedious about it. We were all practically teetotal anyway because we were all underage, but we were allowed to drink a little bit at Christmas and family occasions, and every now and then our dads would let us have a beer and the girls had wine. But Jenny didn’t even do that. She didn’t think people should drink or do drugs. But she fucking smoked, so she was full of shit.

  We didn’t take more than a swig from the communal cider, because we knew that wouldn’t be cool. But some of the older guys said they’d buy stuff for us from the garage if we gave them the money, and so we said next week we’d bring some. And we did, and we got drunk on cider, at least us boys did, and it was the most fantastic, blissfully happy thing we’d ever done and Ben wandered into the road on the way home and nearly got run over. Then he was sick in a bush and Jenny sighed and made a fuss about how embarrassing it was while smoke from her menthol went in my eyes. I told her to put her minty cigarette up her arse and shut the fuck up, then I burst out laughing and Thomas punched me. And I lay on the ground and the stars were spinning and I was spinning and I was laughing so much as I moaned, ‘You fucking punched me, you wanker!’ Then I was sick too in the middle of the pavement and everybody just ran off, even Hannah. And no one wanted to walk with me and Ben when we caught up with them because we stank of sick, but Hannah let me walk her home. She wouldn’t let me kiss her because of the sick on my breath, although I kept on trying, but she pecked me on the cheek and sent me home, saying, ‘Are you sure you’re going to be all right?’ And I said I was fine and I wasn’t even drunk. Then I went home and I managed to get upstairs without anyone catching me because my parents were already in bed and Nicki was out. Then I went to bed and fell asleep and was sick in my sleep and I could have choked on my vomit and when I woke up the dog was eating it.

  22

  I live in a red house

  With bricks the colour of blood!

  And if I leave the red house

  The bricks they turn to mud!

  I’m going to detach my situation

  I’m going to try for a revelation

  Ro-oh—oad! Ro-oh-oad!

  That was another one of Neil and Thomas’s songs. It was called ‘Road’. How did the rest of it go? Oh I remember …

  Build me a house by the river

  Build it out of dreams!

  But if you fall in the river

  It’s deeper than it seems!

  Then it’s back to …

  I’m going to detach my situation

  I’m going to try for a revelation

  Ro-oh—oad! Ro-oh-oad!

  I don’t think there were any more verses. It just went back to the beginning again after Ben’s guitar solo. What other songs were there? Let’s see, there was ‘Sound of Sound’, and I think that just went ‘Nothing sounds better than the sound of sound!’ over and over again, sort of alternating with a guitar riff. And what else? There was ‘Fly’. Don’t really remember that one, except the bit that goes ‘I look at the sky! I look at the ground! I look at the world! All around!’ Can’t remember if the song was about someone who could fly, or someone who was a fly, or whatever. Maybe he could see the sky and the ground and everything all around because he had giant fly eyes with 360-degree vision or something. There were other songs later, but they were different. After what happened had happened.

  The rehearsals continued, even during our exams. Not even Neil was so much of a swot that he’d pull the plug on them. But although the material was coming out as if it was on a conveyor belt, with Thomas just presenting Neil with some chord changes, and some lyrics magically appearing out of his notebook that would hang on top of them, in a more or less neat fit, it wasn’t quite the same. There was something going on with Thomas. You used to be able to rely on him. He was a cunt, everybody knew that, and he didn’t disappoint. But with Neil, at least at first, here was somebody he’d normally be ignoring, swearing at or beating up, who he actually, sort of, got on with. Somehow they managed to tap into each other’s wavelength and work together, and come up with some stuff that, Neil’s presentation style aside, was pretty decent. And Thomas obviously knew this and didn’t want to mess it up. So he wasn’t overly rude to Neil, and he didn’t talk about him behind his back and turn everyone against him, like he did to pretty much anybody else he hadn’t known since he was five. And the reason, I think, was that Neil had given him something to actually believe in. The songs. If the songs were good, then that meant that Thomas wasn’t all bad. And if he wasn’t all bad, then he wasn’t the total cunt he’d been persuading himself and others he was all this time. And you could tell, he was lightening up a bit, slightly.

  But then there was Jenny. Jenny bollocked all that up completely. Because Jenny didn’t like the way Neil sang or played his keyboard. And she’d told Thomas that. And she wasn’t bothering to say the songs were good, either. The way she was putting it, Neil in general was an embarrassment. And hard as he made himself out to be, when it came to Jenny, Thomas was, well, I don’t like the phrase, but it’s true, pussy-whipped. What Jenny said went. And if Jenny said that something wasn’t good, then in Thomas’s mind, at some level, it had to be true. Because Thomas was a piece of shit, in his head. And Jenny was the embodiment of the voice that had been telling him that all his life. The only thing that made Thomas see himself as something good, Jenny was going out of her way to destroy.

  And once she’d started on that, Thomas started behaving a bit weirdly towards Neil. The better Neil’s lyrics got, and the more they fitted in seamlessly with what he was coming up with on the guitar, the more the old-style Thomas came back. For instance, the first time Neil came up with ‘Sound of Sound’, and it was just the same line over and over again – which, looking back, was genius and was exactly what the song needed – Thomas said something like, ‘Yeah, well, it’s probably less painful listening to you sing one line than lots of different ones.’ Which didn’t even mean anything when you think about it, but it was still nasty.

  Or another time, we were getting ready to play a song, and Ben was working out his solo, and he said, ‘What key’s it in, Thomas?’

  And he said, ‘It’s in A but Neil’s going to be playing in G, D and F Sharp Doofucker,’ another of his made-up words that everybody copied. But by then Neil had actually grasped the concept of keys and why it was a good idea to play in the same one as everyone else, so that was unnecessary as well.

  But then, Neil sometimes did try people’s patience a bit too much, and he should have known better. I think the thing that really wound everybody up was ‘Flying Saucer Rock ’n’ Roll’. It was a song Neil had taped off the radio that he thought was amazing, and he wanted us to play it. Fine, we were up for that. Only problem was, he wouldn’t let us hear it.

  ‘How the fuck are we supposed to know how it goes, then?’ said Jase. Even he was pushed too far with this one.

  ‘You don’t. I’ll just sing the melody and you can all work out your own parts.’

  ‘Why the fuck would we want to do that?’ I said.

  ‘Because then we wouldn’t just be copying. We’d be doing a truly new version of the song. It’s the only way we’d be able to come up with something as essential as the original.’

  ‘Bollocks,’ said Ben.

  ‘Wel
l, Otis Redding had never heard the Rolling Stones’ version of “Satisfaction” when he did his. The guitarist had just sung it to him before they recorded it.’

  ‘Never heard it,’ said Thomas. ‘Bloody nig—nog.’ He was coming out with even worse stuff a lot of the time, but I don’t see the point of documenting it.

  ‘OK,’ said Jase, wearily, ‘let’s hear it.’

  ‘Yeah, all right,’ said Thomas. ‘Let’s hear you sing this fucking song and get it over with.’

  Neil began to sing.

  ‘Well, the news of the saucer been a-flyin’ around

  I’m the only one that seen it on the pound

  First thing I seen when I saw it land

  Cats jumped out and they formed a band…’

  We tried not to laugh. For about two seconds. Then we all started sniggering. Not just because the song was ridiculous, or seemed so at the time, but because Neil really couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. There was no way we could work out what was meant to be going on in this song.

  ‘…Flyin’ saucer rock and roll,

  Flyin’ saucer rock and roll

  I couldn’t understand the things they said

  But that crazy beat just a-stopped me dead’

  By the time he got to the chorus we were in hysterics. He tried to start the second verse but we were all laughing too much.

  ‘OK, Neil, we’ll give it a go,’ said Jase between laughing fits. Everyone else was laughing too hard even to protest.

  ‘I can’t believe we are doing a fucking song about aliens,’ moaned Ben.

  ‘He’s from another planet, what do you expect?’ said Thomas.

  ‘Yeah, Planet Monger,’ said Ben. Even Jase laughed.

  We started jamming underneath Neil as he sang it again, still laughing. Pretty soon we worked out that it was essentially a blues chord sequence, and just played that. It probably turned out a lot more ordinary than Neil was hoping, maybe even like the original record, although to this day I’ve never heard it so I can’t be sure, so occasionally I’d play a little weird chord that didn’t fit just for his sake. But in the end, though, we’d done what we’d been asked.

  Then, after we’d been fiddling around with it for half an hour, Thomas started making a horrible piercing sound by taking his jack lead in and out of his bass. This wasn’t good for his amp at all, and Thomas was usually very fastidious in taking care of his equipment. The rest of us stopped to see what the problem was.

  ‘No, don’t stop!’ cried Neil. ‘That’s what I want!’

  ‘We’re not going to be fucking playing that again!’ said Thomas, making the horrible scraping noise one more time. His face was pale, his eyes small. He didn’t look like someone who’d been laughing helplessly not long before.

  And that was what was happening with the band. We had that gig coming up soon as well at Thomas’s dad’s social, and we had to drum up an audience for that. It would have to be the gang from the bonnie. Naturally, we planned to go down there the first Friday after the last exams. We were going to celebrate in style, because we’d heard that the old guy at the garage would sell you booze, and he didn’t care how old you were. This was incredible news, and we just had to test it out. So, half seven that Friday evening, me, Ben, Jase and Thomas met outside the garage. Ben was shitting it, you could tell. Thomas didn’t care. I was shitting it too a bit, but I wasn’t such a wuss as Ben. Jase wasn’t that bothered, and waited outside for us on his bike. He never did drink that much, even later.

  We walked in. The right guy was behind the counter. The old guy. Looked a bit damaged. Should have been doing something more dignified at his age. Like being retired. Thomas went straight over to the drinks section. Ben hovered around the crisps for ages. I considered studying the crisps too, but thought, no, we’re here for one thing, may as well get on with it. Not that we had that much money between us, though. It had all gone on buying stupid gifts for our girlfriends. Well, Ben didn’t have a girlfriend, but he didn’t have a paper round or anything either. So he only had what his dad gave him, which, mind you, was more than any of the rest of us got. But for the amount we each had, which was just a few quid, there was only one thing that was guaranteed to get us as blind drunk as we were aiming for. We’d seen the college kids drink it and get absolutely wrecked. It was some eastern European beer that had come over when the Berlin Wall came down or something, and was about 9.5% alcohol and tasted like paint stripper. I can’t remember what its real name was but I can remember its industrial—looking silver can, devoid of anything other than the required legal information. The sixth-formers called it Napalm.

  Thomas took two cans. I took two. Ben, although he was shaking with fear, took four. I looked at him. ‘Yeah, well, it takes a lot to get me pissed, dunnit?’ he grunted.

  Of course it didn’t, he was a lightweight, but that’s what he liked to believe.

  Thomas got to the counter first. The guy didn’t even as much as look at him before asking for £1.98, or however much that stuff cost back then. I was more baby-faced than Thomas, so I thought he might still pick on me. But no, not a glance, just money handed over, in the till, cans in a little blue bag. Ben, still shaking even then, and virtually white, placed his four cans on the counter. ‘Jesus,’ said the old guy. ‘Four Napalms. You’ll be sorry tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ muttered Ben, looking down at the chewing-gum rack.

  We walked out and over to our bikes where Jase was waiting. By the time Hannah and Jenny met up with us on a bench by the path that led to the bonnie, we’d already cracked open our cans and taken our first swigs. It was without doubt the foulest thing any of us had ever drunk. But somehow we kept it down, and swallowed some more, even though our bodies were begging us to throw it back up. After just a quarter of a can, we were all feeling quite funny.

  Naturally, Jenny was disgusted. ‘Do you have to drink that stuff?’ she said to Thomas, as she blew out minty nicotine.

  Thomas just belched.

  ‘Thomas!’

  ‘What?’ he said.

  ‘Don’t do that, it’s disgusting!’

  ‘Yeah, so what?’

  Jenny didn’t have an answer to that watertight argument.

  Time speeded up because of the Napalm and next thing we knew we were by the bonfire. The sixth-formers had already lit it and there was quite a crowd. Soon, pretty much everybody would be there. Andrew, Will, John, Alex, Jon without the H, James, the other James, Ewan, Karen, who was now going out with James, the other James, that is, the girl with the big tits from the sports centre the year before, Kate, of course, loads of Jenny’s little friends, all called Louise. And Damien was there too, hitting on all the girls. Normally we’d have tried to get him to piss off, but by the time we got there the Napalm had made us all deliriously happy, so we were running about hugging people and telling them we loved them, even Damien. Well, Thomas wasn’t, but he wasn’t telling them to fuck off either, which was more or less the same thing in his world. Ben got through all four of his Napalms and ended up shouting at girls to get off with him before some sixth-former punched him in the stomach and everyone cheered. He ended up asleep in a bush. No idea how he got home.

  Anyway, I was feeling really drunk, and everything was dancing in my head, and everybody was there, literally everybody I’d ever known, it seemed, at least thirty of them, like it was some amazing party, and it was, although still nobody had managed to get hold of any weed, when Hannah tugged at my sleeve. ‘Honey,’ she said, because she always called me that, ‘there’s someone I’d like you to meet. Louise, this is Chris, my boyfriend. Chris, this is Louise. She’s my friend.’ She lisped self-consciously when she said it. Looking back on it, Hannah did talk like she was six a lot of the time. It could never have lasted.

  ‘Christ,’ I said, ‘not another Louise! There are too many already. You must change your name to Graham!’

  ‘That’s the sort of thing Neil would say,’ sighed Hannah. She’d been down on him too recently,
no doubt because Jenny had told her to. ‘Have you spoken to him yet?’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I’ve known him since I was five!’

  ‘No, I mean tonight, silly.’

  ‘What on God’s earth are you going on about, woman!’

  ‘Chris, don’t be cheeky. He’s over there.’

  I couldn’t coordinate my head to turn in the direction she was pointing, so Hannah turned me round herself. Sure enough, there Neil was, talking to some sixth-formers who appeared to find him quite amusing.

  ‘He’s come over already to talk to us. Just going on about Spam and lard or something silly like that. You took quite a shine to him, didn’t you, Lu-Lu?’

  ‘Oh, he’s sweet,’ Louise said. She was quite sweet herself.

  She had an elfin pixie face and was dressed in dark goth clothes, with her hair dyed black, close to Hannah’s natural shade, but you could tell she didn’t walk about thinking about death all the time. A petite little thing with just too big an arse for her body, and her eyes didn’t exactly line up. She was a weird cross between a normal person and someone a bit freaky. She was a borderline case. It could go either way for her. She needed to be careful.

  ‘Neil! Neil!’ I screamed as I ran over to him. ‘What the blazes and fuck are you doing here?’

  ‘Oh, Jase said I should come down, so I did. My last exam was yesterday.’

  ‘Well, good to see you, my old chum,’ I said, hitting him on the back very hard. ‘I must go now, as I’ve got to hug a tree.’

  And I did, and from that point on the evening’s a mess of colours and dizziness, except for one thing. I remember looking across and seeing Neil talking to Louise, and he was talking his usual surrealist nonsense and she was laughing and laughing like she was going to wet herself. Well I never, I thought, Neil’s going to get in there. And then I looked to the left, or the right, or somewhere. And there was Jenny. And there was Thomas with her. He was looking very sober now, despite having downed his two cans of Napalm. They were both looking at Neil and Louise too. And the look in their eyes – I can’t describe it. Whether they were both thinking the same thing, or for the same reasons, I can’t say, but that look. It was chilling. Jenny was saying something again in Thomas’s ear. Thomas just nodded. He looked at Neil some more. Then he turned and stared into the fire.