Primal Scream


Another taster from my work-in-progress Edina Street…
Primals
I bump into Kirsty and Bob, or whatever his name is, snuggled up in a right cosy looking corner of Pearce’s. Would’ve gone somewhere else if I’d clocked them first. But I’ve got a pint of 80 Shilling in my hand now.
“Alright, Donnie?”
“Oh aye. What yous been up to?”
It’s sticking in my craw to ask. Should’ve blanked them. And he’s still wearing that stupid fucking hat, like the one Dylan has on the cover of his first album.
“Just been to see Primal Scream up at the Venue.”
“Aye? Good gig was it?”
“No bad. Thought they were better the last time I saw them but….”
The cap adds weight to his opinion of course. Gives him the air of an NME journo or something.
“I didn’t miss anything then? They’ve run their course, I reckon.”
“Kirsty enjoyed it. Didn’t you?”
He ruffles her hair. Smiles. Patronising bastard, so he is.
“Aye, it was great. I think they get better and better.”
“I thought Kirsty said you were into them?”
“I still like Sonic Flower Groove. But they’ve kinda turned into rock gods now, have they no?”
So the lovebirds had been speaking about me? Well, at least I’m not totally out of the picture… But this pint of 80 tastes very bitter.

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