Saturday, August 7, 1982
The voice of the anus
I went across to Grant’s in the evening to sort out some hassles over the London trip, but as I hoped we would, we trucked up to the Albion for booze. We met Nik; he was cuddling in a corner with his girlfriend Sally from Royden. I can't really say we 'met' as none of us said a word but sat there instead in uneasy silence. Grant and I left on the pretext of being bored. I don't like the Albion.
We toured a few more pubs, and one in particular had a wild upstairs room that was packed full of screaming people. As we walked up two pissed drunk girls crawled down past us on the stairs. Grant and I fell into our usual loud talk and laughter, discussing an idea we have for a taped medley of screamy fragments and excerpts we always sing or spring to mind. I was embarrassed when I said “This is the voice of the anus” in a loud voice and accompanied it with a loud raspberry mouth-fart not knowing someone was hurrying past. Grant could hardly stifle his laughter.
We wound down the night with cider back at the Albion and friendly talk with Nik. When Nik's around Grant seems to come alive and animated: whenever Nik has to leave the room for some reason, Grant sinks immediately into a grey medley of “shit!” and “what a waste!” comments.