"Eddie Chemical was in no mood for doing the job on the Flightpath Estate, he put it down to distance, McGuire put it down to fear..."

"Vogel The young Modernist had listened to enough reactionary drivel for one day. Leaning across the table he stared into the eyes of his adversary and calmly said 'We equate machines with funkiness'..."

Bubble and Slide

"...It was pissing down, running through the gutters, banging out metallic bongo patterns in McGuires head, rhythms from the basement he'd just left. Squinting from left to right, the days course was plotted."

Bubble and Slide II

"...McGuires steps were solid over Battersea Bridge. "London bridges at dawn, fuckin' magic, who needs fuckin' India or somewhere...no toilet paper and loads of poncey beatnik types."

Duke of Earlsfield

"...The taxi stopped at the junction of Earlsfield Road and Garret Lane, McGuire mumbled "Fascist Wanker," under his breath, refused to give a tip, and walked up to his front door. Once inside, the cherry on the cake had to be Jazzbo or Stitt."

Flight Path Estate

"...McGuires rooms were immaculate, no way was he going to be "Re-Settled by the Council on some fuckin' new estate underneath some fuckin' new airport."

Planet D

"...The only way to avoid the Flight Path Estate scenario was to get a bit cosmic. "Not to fuckin' cosmic mind." He'd once told me "This planet's martian enough without contemplating the whole universe."

Wilmot

"...It was the trumpet line that did it. nevermind chasing after ethereal angels or earthly skirt. Chase that tune, scour the shacks, pester the sound boys..."

Tow Truck

"...Noel's cutting room was a short walk from Borough tube station' it was the engine stoking th boilers of many a South London sound system. Outside stood his Chevy Stepside."

Theme

"...McGuire pressed his ear to the wall and imagined the scenes within the Lant Street laboratory."

Return to Planet D

"...No joy in Borough. On went the lightbulb above McGuire's head. "You can dance to sweet music, sweat it out under a hot trumpet, or even play a nice game of billiards." As Mr. Samuels was fond of saying about this beloved Soho."

Ballad of Nickey McGuire

"...the troubled with Soho apart from the "High Ups with an office on the spot and the low downs transacting affairs on street corners." (Mr. Samuel's) was that it reminded him of her. The cafe on the corner of Peter Street, Berwick Street, Market, Sir Les's coffee bar on Bateman Street. Fuck even the strip joint on Dean Street!"

Jacob Street 7am

"...Stumbling from a Charing Cross Road drinker, two hours skip and off to work. Dawn over Rotherhithe...could be worse."

Chapel Street Market 9am

"...As the hammer hit his thumb, the name of an importer stamped itself on the front of McGuire's brain with equally painful clarity. He had some money stashed to get through the summer with aplomb, dash, bag load's of tunes and anyway Ray the Bugle, Mac & the Major, all those boy's understood totally"

Haunted Dancehall

"...The he heard it. Pushing past early morning commuter and the market stall workers, he found himself standing outside a boarded up cafe. Wrenching the planks from what was once the front door, McGuire stepped inside..."