The Off License
This is one of my favourite locations in London. It is an Off License just across from Hyde Park and only a couple blocks from my old flat. I would often pop into the place for a bottle of wine, some Haribo Tangfastics, or a Time Out magazine when I lived there. I first went there with SJ the night my roommates and I hosted a party for our fellow students at Flat 6. We ran out of wine and SJ and I ran to this Off License to get a few more bottles. On the way back, she told me about an obscure 80's song called The Rain, by Oran "Juice" Jones. I'd never heard of it, but SJ knew almost every word. Thereafter, we often quoted heavily from the song. It wasn't until well after I'd arrived home from London that I found an 80's compilation CD that had the song on it. The song was everything SJ told me it was. To this day, whevenever I hear that song, I think of this Off License.
I came across this photograph while looking at London hotels on-line.
Today's Song: The Rain, Oran "Juice" Jones
Some key lyrics from the song:
Hey hey baby how ya doin' come on in here
(Walking in the rain)
Got some hot chocolate on the stove waiting for you
Listen first things first let me hang up the coat
(You were holding hands and I'll)
Yeah how was your day today
Did you miss me
(Never be the same)
You did? Yeah? I missed you too
I missed you so much I followed you today
(I saw you)
That's right now close your mouth
'Cause you cold busted
(Walking in the rain)
Now just sit down here, sit down here
I'm so upset with you I don't know what to do
(You were holding hands and I'll)
You know my first impulse was to run up on you
And do a Rambo
(Never be the same)
I was about to jam you and flat blast both of you
But I didn't wanna mess up this thirt-seven hundred dollar lynx coat
So instead I chilled -- That's right chilled
I called up the bank and took out every dime.
Than I cancelled all your credit cards...
I stuck you up for every piece of jewelery I ever bought you!
Don't go lookin' in that closet 'cause everything you came here with is
packed up and waiting for you in the guest room. What were you
thinking?
You don't mess with the Juice!
I gave you silk suits, blue diamonds and gucci handbags.
I gave you things you couldn't even pronounce!
But now I can't give you nothing but advice.
Cause you're still young, yeah, you're young.
And you're gonna find somebody like me one of these days . . .
Until then, you know what you gotta do?
You gotta get on outta here with that alley-cat-coat-wearing,
punch-bucket-shoe-wearing crumbcake I saw you with. Cause you
dismissed!
That's right, Silly rabbit, tricks are made for kids, don't you know
that. You without me is like corn flakes without the milk! This is my
world. You're just a squirrel trying to get a nut! Now get on outta
here. Scat!
Don't touch that coat
posted by h.justin @ 11:38 AM
4 Objection(s)!
4 Comments:
That picture is lovely. What is it about European cities that makes gray days seem romantic?
I'll have to download that song. I was reading the lyrics and it seemed to be almost like a ballad at first, but then it got really angry at the end.
No need to download it - I have it on my iPod and can transfer it to your computer ("Don't Steal Music" - I know, I know).
I sometimes wonder if a grey day in London beats a sunny day in SLC. A sunny day in London certainly beats a sunny day in SLC, and a grey day in London beats a gray day in SLC, but does grey London trump sunny SLC - I think the answer is probably yes, but only to a point.
When I lived in London it used to make me laugh to see the difference in people's attitudes on a rare sunny day versus a typical grey day. People were suddenly cheerful, helpful and talkative. I think the Brits may argue that the 6 months of summer we had, trump 9 grey months in London. But like you, I think the verdict is still out.
Ah, whenever I hear Off-License nowadays, I remember my time in London c. 1996 and how I stayed away from the "unlicensed" places for fear they were um, illegal. I was young and apparently quite daft. Oh, and paranoid. Don't forget paranoid.
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