LAGER TIME - Young UnProfessional EP 6 - Just Another Day(te)

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening

The last in this current little mini-series of Young Unprofessional is up. In this episode, Reece finally goes on the date with Alice, who he met through the dating section of the Gumtree website. It’s a little later than expected, but I explain why in the introduction.

I’ve enjoyed writing this little mini-series, it felt like the natural evolution of the Satellite Stories series, whilst incorporating my desire to start writing from the perspective of a fully fictional character, from a fictional town (even if lots of it is based on my experiences)

I’m still undecide on the form of it, so what I think I’d like to do next is sit down and look over what I’ve written and work out what’s working and what isn’t etc.

I don’t know how any of these stories are landing with people but when I get into it and start writing, I enjoy it and I feel there is more to come. They are all works in progress, as is the whole podcast, so they’re raw and rough round the edges. I have a feeling that if I can refine my process, I can improve on what I’m doing with it.

I’ve also enjoyed featuring my own music (which is handy as I don’t have to worry about licensing etc) – something which I’ve neglected to mention. It helps break the stories up at bit and can put a contextual frame round it, as well as giving a legit excuse to write more music; again, I have no idea how any of this is landing, but, I do this because I enjoy doing it, anything else positive that comes of it is a bonus.

So what next? I have a few old stories from the Reece stuff I’ve written over the years, which I’d like to put up. I’ve also slowly been compiling a load of quotes from the books I’ve been reading and have an idea to use these as an impetus to write some thoughts, in an attempt at some essays; so at some point, at least one of these will emerge.

As scatty as I can be, in my own dysfunctional way, stuff does get done; and I would like to improve that and in general, improve myself, otherwise, what is the point in all of this? I think it’s a little bit like the Reece character, he is flawed and is somewhat aware of this, and in his own doomed way, is trying to do something about it, he just doesn’t really know how.

I hope you enjoy this latest episode, if you like it, please subscribe and share it, as much as I do this for me, when someone tells me they like it, it kicks me up the arse to do more. On the Substack, there is a link to the Young UnProfessional series which you can click and have them all in one place.

Peas and taters for now

Paul

Lager Time: Young UnProfessional EP 4 - Melt Tree

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening

The latest Lager Time epsiode is up. This week features the 4th instalment from the The Young UnProfessional series, Melt Tree. In this little nugget, Reece takes the advice of his mate Stuart Simmons, and tries his hand at online-dating via Gumtree.

Young UnProfessioanl is set in London around 2006 / 2007 and tells the story of Reece, in his voice, who’s not long moved to London, from provincial satellte town: New Town, where he grew up, in search of something? He doesn’t really know.

You can subsribe directly via Substack, where you also get extra content, or you listen on Spotify or Apple

Keep it Larger

Paul

Lager Time: Young UnProfessional EP 3 - Alpine Down-Dressing

Yes yes yes

Another week, another Lager Time episode is out. This week it’s EP 3 of the Young UnProfessional series - Alpine Downdressing

This episode sees Reece goes for a few beers with his fellow New Town ex-patriate Stuart Simmons, but they’r both at very different stages in life

You can listen below on Spotify or Apple, or better still on Substack, where you’ll get extra bits, blogs etc

Nice one

Paul

LAGER TIME PODCAST: SATELLITE STORIES - THE 405 (PART 1)

Easy

The latest Lager Time podcast is up. This week it’s the first part of a story about getting a long bus journey, across Surrey to Kingston.

I didn’t get around to finishing it in time, so that’s why it’s in two parts, no other reason.

With these stories I’m trying to add in a bit of production, sound effects etc. I messed up the dialogue in one of the bits by sticking the character Donovan, on a channel where I’d put some reverb on it. I think it was what I used for the story intro. Didn’t intend on doing that.

As I go along with Lager Time, I think, to improve it, I’m going to have get a bit more disciplined with how I record it. Probably need a bit more time for the writing, the recording and the mixing. At the moment, it’s all a bit slap-dash

We keep on and all that

To subsribe via Substack, where you can get the written email and podast, subsribe HERE

OR SPOTIFY HERE

OR APPLE PODCASTS HERE

Paul

M.Y.O.B (A.H.F.T.B) / / PART 3 -TROLLY BOY

Here’s the next instalment in the Make Your Own Bed (and Hope For the Best) story development

Needs a bit of work this one but I least feel like I’m getting better at making the video’s.

Progress, mate

RAW 64'S of BOREDOM #3 All Aboard

 
 

WOLLOP. Track number three is up. I’m a bit late with the blog update but you know, I don’t think anyone is gonna be loosing any sleep over it.

This track happened pretty quick, I made the beat a few weeks back and the first 32 bars, is a verse I’d written a few years back, which I had kicking around in the lyric book. Wrote the next 32 shortly after, ran with the train theme. It was the quickest to record as well, I;ve got a bit of a process now. Reckon I’m gonna do two more, package it up and stick ‘em up on Bandcamp. Large up everyone who has listened and shared so far

FULL LYRICS BELOW

 
 

RAW 64’s of BOREDOM #3 - All Aboard

-Beat made on my phone, using iMaschine 2

-Vocal recorded in Cubase -No monitors, just headphones with one, half-working ear

-Recorded late at night, making minimal noise

-Image taken by Janice D'Costa

-Written, produced and recorded in isolation by Paul Cree -why not?

LYRICS

I used to bored trains, bored and try and jump ‘em

ride it from Horley, to Clapham Junction

small town Surrey, to South London

I guess on a bit of a quest in search of something

left a trail to find my way back home

stick on stones on the railroads

couldn’t drive, couldn’t afford the lesson time

and the kids with whips didn’t really wonna leave their drives

took trips down to Brighton the seaside

record shopping and picking up the rave flyers

saw weird shit, like white guys in doo-rags

thinking back-home they’d probably get laughed at

in fact, probably slapped these towns were like that

they weren’t the worst but geezers up in shirts on the

lash to pull birds, were likely to get violent if they failed in their

search, or worse

 

 

a lot of fighting back home in the pubs and bars

us smart ones played the fish in a pond card

then went up London to go dancing in the raves

like fish out of water but a pond to a lake

in these cities I found a new breed of prick

sort of smart-arsed kid, went to uni bunned a spliff

considered themsevls enlightened ‘cos they listened to Jehst

then slag off my hometown and say it was full of inbreds

I’d think shutup mate, then shake my head

knowing one day they’d probably be my boss

sat around a table, putting ticks in a box

the power to say no, or take what I’ve got

early shifts north terminal, working in a shop

coming straight from the End, eyes all blood shot

Gatwick strip lights like droughts to a frog

fall asleep on the train back, missed my stop

 

 

 

 

back on the train and id get myself lost

looking out the window till my eyes would go boss

Croydon was the final frontier of the city through the boundaries

then back into  leafy Surrey county

many times I avoided getting robbed

playing cat and mouse with gangs by getting on and getting off

sometimes guards locked doors between carriages

them slam-door trains carried some colourful characters

never saw transport police, only at matches

Saturday Millwall trips became standard

knew a couple of kids at my school who supported ‘em

95 first game, hooked, Kerry Dixon scored

grew older, beer became a part

post match piss-ups, pissed as a fart

on a train home, shared a can with a west ham fan

got off at his stop and threatened to slit my throat

 

 

 

there were times when I behaved like a prick

pissed up bunnin’ spliffs and vandalising shit

felt sorry for the cleaner, cleaning up my sick

when I’d consumed special brew and it erupted out my lips

performed acrobatics just to make last trains, there were

times when I didn’t and I’d be stranded till the next day

trying to kip with the waifs and the strays

invalidate my ticket so twice I’d have to pay

read books, wrote bars, poems and stories

end of the nineties right into the noughties

hiding in my seat, window-side preferably

wrote so much between, London and Horley

travel card, pen and a pad that was my weaponry

building up my armoury to advance on my arteries

trying to pump a lifeforce, into my heartbeats

and beat the boredom by beating some bars out of me

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