high street

UK Reggae Sound Systems Culture (c. 1970s — 1980s)

the break of spring brings forth a gracious rebirth. the mandem seem brighter, as the sun last longer and lights up that golden tooth. mandem are eager to meet up sooner, stay out later and see life more than just chasing paper. the birds chirp louder, trees blossom swaying in the warm breeze and so goes the sense of unease. skaters and cyclists galore, the scent of weed, sweat box bars ah the london furore. dargs laughing grinning ear to ear, chipping away at that varicose ulcer that festers beneath the tears. shisha bars open, clubs and bars popping, the scent of perfume skanks in the air. a humid tinge hangs heavy though we compare the sting of that lockdown affair. the alluring ruckus of the high street, once fleeting now the mandem know where we’re meeting. the sun hangs around for longer, on that corner, accompanying us with fonder memories bopping along the strip wishing nights were longer. tracksuits come with comforting governance or the act of slipping pretence, a code capped alliance in amongst the crippling silence. whilst the summer hue strongly shone, in our minds now gone are the worries that from whence winter they belong