Lightbulb.

You can run the tracks in London as hard as you like. Do whatever you want. end up in clubs where you are not surevwhere you are, having a great time. In the back of my mind i always knew there was a way to get home, somehow. Worry about it later, lets go dancing!

Putting up Block Rockin Beats first on Resolution this morning reminded me of all of it. The memory of being in THe Heavanly Scoial, which we nearly didn't get into at all, some bloke fell flat on his face in front of the bouncers, I picked him up, and they told me they "Wereen't letting you tripped out cunts in!" "Easy." I said, "Never fucking met him before." In we went.

The Chemical Brother's were Djing, everyone was on poppers. The air smelled liked paint thinner. I danced with Annie Nightingale, an old school Radio One DJ. Someone I know persuaded a girl dressed in a nurses uniform to blow him in the mixed restrooms for an E.

The evening got more and more fucked as we went along. Last song came up 3am I think. Light went off in my head. "How the fuck are we going to get out of here?" Outside the club, vainly looking for a black cab, when we knew we were going to end up getting an illegal gypsy cab, driven by someone more tripped out than we were. This is how we ran all the time. It was the greatest laugh, if a lot dangerous. I remember being in a club, Strawberry Alarm Clock in central London, when my old flat mate asked me, "Where am I Si?" I told him where we were. He looked at me dead serious. "No Si, where am I in the universe?" Time to go home.