Taking a break from recording at Olympic Studios
the Gallaghers, large as life, were outside my local
that August evening, when, pen and notebook in hand
I strolled past as inconspicuously as possible.
But in vain. It was Noel who recognized me
and well-nigh dragged me over to their table.
Liam bought the round: red wine for his brother,
large whiskey for himself, and a lager top for me.
‘Tell us about John Lennon.’ ‘Tell us about the Sixties.’
‘Tell us about…’ A double-act that was difficult
to penetrate. ‘Relax, lads,’ I said, ‘well understand
your excitement, but one at a time, please.’
‘Tell us about Scaffold.’ ‘Tell us about Brian Epstein.’
‘Calm down, calm down,’ I said with Aintree irony.
‘If you’re really interested, why not hit my web-site?’
Liam removed his shades. ‘Gob-shite.’