Scuba – Negative/ Speak

You haven’t worked in weeks. You’re unshaven and unkempt, your fridge is as bare as the dying light of a Sunday afternoon spent alone is bleak. Your rent is in arrears, and you dread the thought of more bills arriving through the door tomorrow. You spend more money on whiskey and weed than you spend on food, and have recently taken to shoplifting cheese from the supermarket. Barefoot, in your underwear still, you walk over to your record player, still faithfully spinning around and around and around since God knows what time this morning when the last people left… You reach for the record you walked into town to buy, pull it from it’s sleeve, still fresh despite a gathering storm of your greasy fingerprints clouding it like uncertainty clouds your future. For five and a half minutes you stand listening, eyes closed, and your troubles fall away. You flip the record over and, for a further five and a half minutes of pure joy, you hear that which few others ever will. THE FUTURE IS NAKED