Always Read the Label Chapter 14 Are You Lonesome Tonight?

I start listening to the tape as soon as I manage to spot Simon without his interrogator and borrow his player. The whispering mixed with raised voices that carries through from his room doesn't seem to have much need for a musical accompaniment. He brings the cassette player through managing to mouth 'Have you seen Polly?' which I pretend not to understand before nodding. The time it would take for an explanation would leave him open to more questions so he just leaves, probably wishing he'd watched Papillon a bit more closely or learnt Morse code. The music is a bit different from what I'd choose to listen to, but after a few plays I find some bits that are more like what I'm familiar with, making it easier to persevere with. There's a lot to take in and decisions need to be made. And the best way to make a decision is to...stop thinking about it.

Scottish Paul strolls into The Compasses just off Charing Cross Road a bit after 9, looking like he was scrubbed and ready for a night out a few hours earlier, having spent those hours in a pub trying to lose that look. Angus joins us after a drink and we're soon on the move, meeting the rest at a club round the corner Paul's got us put on the guest list for where 'we're only staying an hour max'.

Paul pushes us to the front of the queue and meets no resistance from a girl with a clipboard getting us into the club, Lovers Ranch. It's still early, I'm used to going to clubs after the pubs shut, and it's starting to fill up. I spot Dee and the yellowy guy, Paul I think it is, from the other week and they seem to see us, though choose not to head over, so we settle against a wall with a bottle of Becks each. They seem to know everyone in here and are shaking hands with a rotation of people. Paul heads over and has a chat with them on his way to the bar getting no more than a quick hello. I sip at the drink he brings back and then head off for a leak, passing them on the way. I'm given short shrift too and am fuming at their arrogance, which Angus obviously notices when I get back.

'They're serving up. You were getting in the way'.
Sometimes I think I'm naive beyond my years. That's what all the revolving faces and handshakes are about. Money changing hands for pills.
'They have a bit of an agreement with the bouncers here. The other guy with them, Russell, knows a few of them from his recent holiday. Don't stare at them. If they're quick they'll have got rid of it all before we leave and can have a good night outon the earnings'.

The other guy, Russell, who I hadn't noticed, is pretty unnoticeable. He's average height but about five foot wide with baggy jeans that are almost skin-tight on him. His eyes are constantly moving; noting who's coming and going and what they're doing while they do so.
'He got out last month. He did four years and spent every day lifting weights. He's soft as shit'.
The last bit is said with a laugh aimed by Angus into the bottle he's holding to his mouth. I can't believe it's only taken him four years to get that size though. He's like a mixed race incredible hulk. I really wouldn't like to see him when he's angry.

When we get into a taxi across the river to South London, I find out he hardly ever gets angry as he starts to tell me about how he went to India and learnt to meditate.

'Piece of piss. You don't like somewhere, you just tune out from it. Make it better inside your head. It's best to live in there as much as possible. I knew I was gonna have to do some time and this would help. If you do ever get banged up, tell 'em you're a vegan. They have to do something about giving you nutrition then, rather than standard slop. Keeps you in tip top shape and gives you all the energy you need to keep your mind focused lifting weights. It's not exactly a holiday, but it's bearable. I got away with loads before I got caught. We pay for everything, you just have to make sure you stack the odds in your favour 'cos no one else will'.

Its sensible advice I hope I never ever need. What did he do to get sent down though? Before I can work up the guts to ask Angus prompts him into telling me by starting to sing an old Clash song.

'I was robbing banks. Me and my cousin who was the driver. He had a nicked bike, I had a sawn-off. Never used it. Never had to. Crash helmet on, into the bank, big shout and they had it over. I got caught when the door got locked on me at a branch in Kentish Town and I had to butt it to get it to slide open. I had my helmet on, but that got shown on Crimewatch and I got nicknamed 'Rambo Raider' by The Sun. That's when I hopped on a plane to India. I knew someone somewhere would see the pics and put two and two together even if my face was pretty hidden. Hope they enjoyed the reward'.

Even the taxi driver stays silent when he's telling his story, breaking the spell only to say' here you go lads' as we stop next to a noisy queue inside an industrial estate. Once again Paul pushes us to the front and in we go, missing the body search that everyone else seems to be enjoying.

It's a huge space with music booming back off the far wall about a second after you hear it. All the walls have been done up with tinsel which glows with the rotating lights. It's not heaving yet though there's enough people to make enough warmth to feel. In the darkness you can make out a crowd of people round the only normally lighted bit in the room, so we head in that direction realising it must be the bar.

The girls stood round ordering drinks are dressed really glamorously. PVC, sequins, cat suits and for some reason a few jumpsuits. It's an older crowd and a far cry from the baggy t shirts and jeans I'm used to seeing at clubs. We stand around having a drink while various wide boys nudge up to the bar and order champagne making a big show of paying with a flashy wad before wandering off handing out freshly filled glasses to whoever catches their eye. I ask Angus about the place and if he's been before.

'Yeah, its always like this, all the Flash Harrys trying to impress with a bit too much enthusiasm. It soon changes though, when the pills kick in. Which shouldn't be long with this lot'.
He's nodding at the busy again little gang of Russell, Dee and Yellow Paul who are in the same formation as at the last club.
'The nights this outfit put on are usually full-on. It's an Elvis theme tonight I think. Come on let's see if he's in the building'.

It's even bigger than I first thought with rooms running off the main central hangar. The further away from the entrance we get, the bigger the smiles seem to be. At the end is a set of stairs made from scaffolding which someone has tried to disguise with excess tinsel. We head up there and I stop in my tracks when we reach the top. Across the room there's a skinhead bent nearly double kissing, or rather eating with his eyes screwed shut, a tiny girl. Fuck me, it's Johnnie.

I look at Angus and we try to look at anything else till he comes up for breath. As we start to suspect he's got an oxygen tank, he breaks away and we head over towards his trademark red eyes. It must freak him out to see us as he's lost for words and lets go of the tiny girl before catching his breath and starting to shout.

'No way. What are you two doing here? How come you know each other? Here...'
The 'here' is followed by him reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small clear bag. Inside are some red and black pills, a few of which he takes out and slams into our mouths, then kisses us both wetly on the lips before we've even swallowed them.
'Plenty more where that came from. Have you met Jo?'
She looks lost without him on her, even tinier, with her shoulders just above Johnnie's waist. When she speaks it's obvious she isn't English. She's learnt the phrase for 'can I have another pill?' though, which she swallows with a swig of water.
'When did you get here, where you living, why haven't you been in touch?'
I tell him and ask him the same questions. He replies: about 4 weeks, Chalk Farm and I asked your mum for a number, she said you didn't have a phone yet. Do they not have them in Hackney?'
Not always in squats. It's on my to do list. I spot a bar at the back of the room and head off to get drinks and borrow a pen so I can get his number. I head back, chat to an embarrassed Angus as we wait for them to stop snogging again, get his number and say we're gonna have a wander about.

The downstairs room is filling up rapidly now, looks more manic and feels louder through a combination of music and people. We head through the gaggles of more animated party goers to where we left Scottish Paul and the rest.

'You alright? Look a bit out of it?'
Those comforting words again. I'd forgotten about the pill thrown down my throat until - until when? Now I guess. There's speckles at the outside edges of my vision and I keep feeling so overwhelmed I want to sit down. Angus has found a spot along the wall and I join him thinking I've answered the question though I don't remember saying anything.

'Bit peaky those pills, eh?'
I'm not sure what peaky is, so just mumble 'yeah' and light a fag. God I'm thirsty and dry. There's a nag I've forgot something. I'm sure I just heard one of the tracks from that tape being played. It sounds amazing. Did I turn the cooker off and lock up? I need a light. Oh, I've got one. Did I offer them round? Think so. Why has Angus got his head in his hands? Does he want a fag? Does he smoke? Fuck me those lights are bright. Where's Johnnie? Sure he was here. Better find him.

'Here, have a drink of this. I was gonna offer you a cheeky half, reckon I've been beaten to it'.
Scottish Paul once again destroying the myth that the Scots are tight. I've never met a tight one anyway. Reckon the English spread the story to make them get their hands in their pockets more often. 'I knew I should have worn my jumpsuit'.

What on earth does that mean? I need to move and the dancefloor looks so inviting, like I could float in it. After swimming to the middle I start to grin and point to the roof. 'You're an Afro-dis-iac'. I am. I know I am. Then 'Do you want it right now?' I do. This instance. Even though I don't know what it is. I give someone a swig of my bottle when they grin right at it and decide it was them saying they wanted it right now. It all makes perfect sense. And I'm part of it. It's part of me. We're all in this together. I know we can win. What game are were playing though? When did Angus get here? He's a brilliant dancer. I'm gonna tell him. He can't understand what I'm saying and just keeps shrugging. I know - I'll go and tell Johnnie.

On the stairs I pass loads of people I know but can't remember where from or what their names are. They must remember me 'cos they all let on. I spot Johnnie in exactly the same position, glued to who I now know is Jo and start to panic that the time I've been dancing didn't really happen. I loiter at his side hoping he'll see me, eventually ending up tugging at his jacket like a kid trying to get an adults attention. I'm about to add an 'excuse me' when he opens his eyes and breaks away. What did I want to tell him?
'Angus is a really nice dancer'.
Even Jo with her slack grasp of English laughs at this. I have no idea why. He is.
'What've you been up to? Hoping they'll answer inbetween giggles. 'I'm off to have a look round. Do you want to come?' I'm guessing when they resume kissing that they don't.

Over on the far side is a balcony that looks down onto the dancefloor, with a stage you can't see from downstairs at the back. I start looking for people I know to give me somewhere to head off to next, coordinates. The lights, which I've just realised I haven't noticed for a while, stop spinning and dim before a voice announces:
'Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis is in the building'.
There's a flash of smoke and on the stage appears Elvis if he'd been born in Japan, in his shades and jumpsuit, Kung Fu kicking and singing along to Suspicious Minds which keeps speeding up as the whole dancefloor claps and whoops along. A few others have joined me looking down at what they had to see to believe they're hearing. Onstage Elvis butchers 'Hound Dog' (maybe he's Korean), Jailhouse Rock and Blue Suede Shoes before finishing with a sing-along to Teddy Bear, at the end of which loads of mini teddies get thrown into the whooping crowd. Elvis then leaves the building to be replaced by thumping tunes that rattle your guts even from up here. I spot Angus dancing around in the middle of it all and head off in that direction.

When I get down I can't find him, instead finding I can quite happily get lost in the music, only stopping when I start to get paranoid that I'll die of dehydration. And when I buy a bottle of water, having found out the taps are all turned off, getting paranoid I'll die of drinking too much water. I haven't even thought to look for who I came with or even my watch. It's a real shock, when the lights get turned on and the music drops down a notch, that its 8 in the morning. Someone opens the doors at one end of the building and the light leaps in, gulping up what was still the endless night for those inside.

I'm blinking and rubbing my eyes from this invasion when Scottish Paul and Angus wander up and start asking where I've been. I have trouble trying to remember. On the empty Sunday morning train back home I'm still hearing music with a lone melody that sings as a whisper 'I want to be in a band'.