Football had reclaimed the St George cross from the fascists and it was actually cool again to sport an England shirt with its iconic three lions.
The summer of 1996. Manchester. I am 26 and in love. The city is buzzing. The country is buzzing. Continue reading “Three lions on a shirt”
Their sound, their look, their energy and for being the indefatigable and endlessly interesting bastards they are – makes them my passion and their followers my tribe.
So I’m on my way to Melbourne to see one of the great loves of my life, the Stranglers, and I’m as excited as a teenager on his first date. Continue reading “How I fell in love with the Stranglers”