The First Chemist
The first chemist I remember was the timothy whites next to the Adelphi it sat wide open on the corner of mount pleasant like a confident woman lights flooding the pavement wares on show great glass bottles full of green blue and red liquid unfathomable contents but warm promise – love.
This when Liverpool then looked like London now smart people smart clothes confidence power and purpose brought by big ships from everywhere.
Glittering rain-washed streets – romance the excitement of childhood days.
Even writing about it now makes me feel warm
20 years on same street the futurist the scala the gaumont the big house managed by Sadie famous Liverpool sailor hard man and transvestite followed by Alan rudkin world champion boxer and alcoholic.
When you go into addiction its like another country its like England in the 1830s incredibly high mortality rates short lives tragedy accidents suicides odd illnesses fires and you name it … but hidden by denial the unspoken landscape of fairy tale ice and fire.
Anyway, 20 years on this same place 1970 me Paul Massey and Dave vose hippies heads freaks lost boys nerds whatever coming up to the same crossing from the Adelphi side the 2 star hotel we thought was grand when kids like we thought quality street were posh -this the great crossing place for foot routes into the various districts of the city, everything hedged in close like a compact forest, this a city you feel inside.
So… Lewis’s rises massive, white stone to confront same stone wall of Adelphi. Halfway up that great Dover looking cliff a bronze ships prow complete with raised anchors a naked bronze colossus in commanding attitude arms stretched from the bow and at the bottom of the canyon … Dave.
Dave Vose out of speke reading Leary hearing Stockhausen somehow separated from us hurrying ahead to the busy junction eyes focussed on the green man of the pelican crossing whole being betraying concentration. I turn to say something to Paul and he stops me “ay, watch Dave" sotto voce "look right look left look right again that’s it look nonchalant that’s it keep calm one last look to be sure and cross confidently yes that’s it" shouts "Dave!!!" Dave jumping as though electrified an instant marooned in the middle of the road a panicked glance back at us realisation a struggle for composure molecular reintegration then on. "You bastard" to Paul as we catch up "what for?" from me. Paul “Well, Dave was knocked down there last year by a car that came through when the man was green so since then… ah aye Dave come on don’t be like that wait for us!"
Paul Massey alive? I’d be surprised. Dave vose - despite all his aspirations to get to big sur India Mexico Paris, made Torquay once loved it - Dave died in the bath in his mothers council house in speke after injecting two diconal and nodding out. Paul, who knows? this guy had a dike script back in 73 so the prognosis is poor but lets say he’s alive because you know something I had a dike script from dr meldrum round about 1973 an I’m still here. And it’s a beautiful bright clean late November day in 2003 and me and my wife sue of 25 years also clean like me 15 years are about to go out and walk along the New river. Dave I hope you got there – cause you left your mark as a loving guy
The end
Dave vose; musings of…
When tripping on particularly strong liquid acid off Nigel Hand in Manchester he described waving to a woman driving past and feeling superhuman like he could run alongside at 40 mph then smiling at women walking past on the pavement and them smiling back then doubting his reality “where they 19 yrs old or 9?”
Oh you’re really bourgeoisie! Dave to two Liverpool girls in hip disguise who laughed at his exposition of freak town hippiedom and his long hair. Paul Massey “what did you say that for Dave – they’ve fucked off now you’ve blown it!” That’s why we liked them, because they were really bourgeois.
When asked by me what he had been doing with himself years later, by now on a injectable methadone script, he replied “just learning how to turn on, Nicky” like it was a full time occupation.
This when Liverpool then looked like London now smart people smart clothes confidence power and purpose brought by big ships from everywhere.
Glittering rain-washed streets – romance the excitement of childhood days.
Even writing about it now makes me feel warm
20 years on same street the futurist the scala the gaumont the big house managed by Sadie famous Liverpool sailor hard man and transvestite followed by Alan rudkin world champion boxer and alcoholic.
When you go into addiction its like another country its like England in the 1830s incredibly high mortality rates short lives tragedy accidents suicides odd illnesses fires and you name it … but hidden by denial the unspoken landscape of fairy tale ice and fire.
Anyway, 20 years on this same place 1970 me Paul Massey and Dave vose hippies heads freaks lost boys nerds whatever coming up to the same crossing from the Adelphi side the 2 star hotel we thought was grand when kids like we thought quality street were posh -this the great crossing place for foot routes into the various districts of the city, everything hedged in close like a compact forest, this a city you feel inside.
So… Lewis’s rises massive, white stone to confront same stone wall of Adelphi. Halfway up that great Dover looking cliff a bronze ships prow complete with raised anchors a naked bronze colossus in commanding attitude arms stretched from the bow and at the bottom of the canyon … Dave.
Dave Vose out of speke reading Leary hearing Stockhausen somehow separated from us hurrying ahead to the busy junction eyes focussed on the green man of the pelican crossing whole being betraying concentration. I turn to say something to Paul and he stops me “ay, watch Dave" sotto voce "look right look left look right again that’s it look nonchalant that’s it keep calm one last look to be sure and cross confidently yes that’s it" shouts "Dave!!!" Dave jumping as though electrified an instant marooned in the middle of the road a panicked glance back at us realisation a struggle for composure molecular reintegration then on. "You bastard" to Paul as we catch up "what for?" from me. Paul “Well, Dave was knocked down there last year by a car that came through when the man was green so since then… ah aye Dave come on don’t be like that wait for us!"
Paul Massey alive? I’d be surprised. Dave vose - despite all his aspirations to get to big sur India Mexico Paris, made Torquay once loved it - Dave died in the bath in his mothers council house in speke after injecting two diconal and nodding out. Paul, who knows? this guy had a dike script back in 73 so the prognosis is poor but lets say he’s alive because you know something I had a dike script from dr meldrum round about 1973 an I’m still here. And it’s a beautiful bright clean late November day in 2003 and me and my wife sue of 25 years also clean like me 15 years are about to go out and walk along the New river. Dave I hope you got there – cause you left your mark as a loving guy
The end
Dave vose; musings of…
When tripping on particularly strong liquid acid off Nigel Hand in Manchester he described waving to a woman driving past and feeling superhuman like he could run alongside at 40 mph then smiling at women walking past on the pavement and them smiling back then doubting his reality “where they 19 yrs old or 9?”
Oh you’re really bourgeoisie! Dave to two Liverpool girls in hip disguise who laughed at his exposition of freak town hippiedom and his long hair. Paul Massey “what did you say that for Dave – they’ve fucked off now you’ve blown it!” That’s why we liked them, because they were really bourgeois.
When asked by me what he had been doing with himself years later, by now on a injectable methadone script, he replied “just learning how to turn on, Nicky” like it was a full time occupation.
posted by Nick Mercer at
12:23 am
1 Comments:
Thanks i appreciate your affirmation. i'm just going to keep blasting away 'cause its exciting the sense that my stuff is live and out there in this brave new world and can be seen from 10000 miles away. My exhortation to you is to write - "produce! produce! for the night cometh when none might work!"(carlyle) - don't just think about philosophy. i did that for years and produced fuck all except a respectable junk habit. whatever you write it will be worth it (whatever people think of it) good luck.
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