| Maximo Park Diary Entries |
| These are diary entries by Maximo Park members from the Official Maximo Park Website. |
England Looms |
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| 26 Oct, 2005 |
Back home.
Manchester was our first port of call on the new tour, with its rusty red bricks and the grand Apollo, where we attempted to please 4000 people each night. I managed to forget the words to our newest song, Waste Land, but I'm not sure that many people noticed. The following night, we were grateful for an ovation that greeted Going Missing.
On the motorway to Leeds, it felt like we were actually within a giant rain cloud. Grey smudges hung low in the sky, lightly pregnant with water. These blemishes puffed out into heavier, mascara-coloured stains, which ebbed away at the edges into wisps of barely-tangible liquid. The already grubby windows of our van became decorated with spitted beads of rain, intermingled with second-hand spray thrown upwards from the endless tarmac as countless wheels span and recycled the water. Through the windscreen was a picture of multiple, constant splashes and tiny segments of surf that appeared at the base of vehicles with paintwork faded by the reams of fluid. In the dark mid-afternoon, drivers led each other with red break-lights, ignited by the treacherous conditions.
Another day. Another journey. This time a train.
The Pennines lay smooth in the distance, their big S-shaped dips resembling a giant rollercoaster dominating the horizon. Static, yellow diggers stand
trackside awaiting operators to take a seat in the solitary, clear booth. Alongside, were long slices of metal that looked like scattered dominoes.
A river spins by, its constant flow made to look static by the speed of my carriage as it is propelled forward. Something beneath the water had interrupted the flow, and this breach made it look like someone had taken a slice out of the smooth surface.
This country is so familiar.
Pylons stand up silently.
Deserted football pitches are impassive.
Tower blocks loom and loom.
We have left the riots of Birmingham for the gigantic Brixton Academy.
That'll do for now,
Paul And The Park |
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