Tag: ongoing story

Rock and Roll

Aug 28th, 2025

Part 2 of Rock and Roll is Dead

Frankie leaned into the table as Deak said, ‘Rock and Roll is dead.’

“No, it’s not.”

“Aye, it is, Frankie.” Deak took a swig of his beer as he watched the barmaid walk by.
“Look at the charts. It’s all pop princesses and dance hits.”

Frankie snorted. “That’s pish, Deak, and you know it is. Rock and roll has waxed and waned. It survived the eighties, for fuck’s sake, when all the guys had bigger hair than the lassies.”

“Ha, they made a lot of money in the 80s. Flew on their own private jets. Coke parties. Any woman or man they ever wanted,” grinned Deak, warming to the subject.

Frankie moved his beer to the side, his arms getting more animated. “Well, maybe, but so fucking what? It’s music, mate. It’s alive now in the clubs, online,” replied Frankie, his hands open on the table.

“Ooh, online. Were Led Zeppelin online, eh?” laughed Deak.

“Ah, fuck off. Different generation. There are still bands out there, and there are still bands coming up. Bands sell out the Riverside Dome. But the best music I’ve seen has to be in a small club, with sweaty walls, drums so loud the crowd shaking the floor.”

Deak looked up at the ceiling. “You ever just want to put on some music and just peace the fuck out?”

“Aye, course, but a beat, drums, guitars, bass, and a vocalist that can reach right into your soul and just light it up.”

“You sound like you’re off your head. I blame the internet.”

“The internet? Aye, maybe, but you might find a song or band that just changes everything.”
“Changes everything? I just want something playing in the background.”

Frankie rolled his eyes. “In the background? That’s the difference between us, pal. I still love ‘Howl on the Lonesome Road’ by Bring Your Ghost to the Fire. Some songs just stick with you.”
Lauren stopped by the table with a tray of empties. “Here you two, nae falling out tonight. I cannae take any more drama between you two, not after the last time. I’ll be honest with you, I’m tired of your pish. So keep it sweet eh?”

“Aye, sorry about that, hen,” they both mumbled as Frankie’s face turned a little red.
She laughed. “Alright, boys, chill.”
“Here, Lauren,” offered up Deak, “what was the name of that band you used to play in?”
“Howd do yous know about that. That was a long time ago.”

“Alright, greatest rock and roll band of all time?”
She barely hesitated. “Easy. Oasis. Biggest band of the last thirty years. Real Rock and Roll.”
The boys looked at each other. “Oasis…” laughed Frankie.

“What… how… what? Did I say something wrong?” Lauren looked puzzled.

“Were they no’ just a rip-off of The Beatles and Status Quo… plus those haircuts?” laughed Deak.
Lauren playfully swiped him with her cloth. “I happen to quite like those haircuts! Were you at Manchester? Edinburgh? You don’t see many bands doing that these days.”

“Oh aye, here we go,” laughed Deak.

“Here, you two are snobs. See the number of artists and singers that saw Oasis and were inspired to pick up a guitar or take a chance. Plus, you go to one of their shows and everyone is having a good time.”

Frankie interjected, “First two albums were classics, but after that… nae chance.”
“Ha, maybe. I was always into Idlewild anyway. Had my first kiss with a boy to ‘Actually It’s Darkness’.”

“Funny that, so did I,” laughed Deak.

“Anyway you two, go listen to Oasis, Sam Fender, Biffy Clyro, Traquair and the Tranquilizers.”

Someone called her from the bar. “Later, losers, no ripping Morning Glory in my bar again,” she smiled, and she was gone.

Frankie and Deak looked at each other and laughed. Frankie said, “It’s all opinions, eh? That’s what makes the world go round.”

Suddenly, the volume of the music went up, and the unmistakable sound of “All Around the World” by Oasis started up.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” said Deak.

They looked over at the bar and saw Lauren looking over, her face turning red as she laughed so hard.

“Fuck’s sake.”

Frankie went to the bar for another couple of drinks.

“Tell her to turn it up!” laughed Deak.
The song blasts out across the bar before Frankie returns to the table.

(c) Paul Andrew Sneddon
Rock and Roll is Dead

Aug 28th, 2025

Part One: Hubie

Hubie lay on the bed, strumming absent-mindedly on an acoustic guitar. He wasn’t sure if he even had the energy to write a new song. He almost felt like if he started Terry would be knocking on the door, wanting to know all about it.

He had the door open to the balcony and a cool breeze was flowing through. From his spot on the bed, he could see across the city. He loved this place. He knew the reputation of Glasgow crowds, hell he had played here many times now and it never failed to be a classic.

He looked at his developing beer belly and wished he was in better shape. He sighed.

The pictures on the TV screen.

Bombings, murder, death.

He remembered the peace marches he had gone on. He flicked through his phone at the pictures. He felt he was just another voice to help.

But those days were gone.

He walked out to the balcony and looked over the city.

The Price of Books

Jul 23rd, 2025

Miserable Bastards (Part 2)

You can read part one here: https://paulandrewsneddon.com/2025/07/12/wake-up-juice/

I look at the two suits I’ve got hanging on the rack, wrapped in plastic.

I pull on my jeans, t-shirt, hoodie. Trainers.
Standard operating procedure.

And I’m out on the street.

Bright Glasgow sunshine. What gives?
Could get used to this.

I’m not wearing sunglasses, just going for a general scowl when I walk in the sun.

It seems kind of fitting.

What is it with folks that say "to be honest," making a big deal? What were you doing for the other 90% of the conversation?

I’m cutting past the subway and down into the town.
A business woman running past gives me a dirty look. Her heels clipping on the ground.

Streets are busy.
The streets are always busy, but I’ve missed most of the suits and morning rush.

I should be just in time for opening.

Past the corner shop, the library. I stop outside, look in the window. Shelves and shelves full of books.

Fuck.

I walk past the man collecting for the Salvation Army. He gives me a nod.

Inside it's busy. People diving around, a man in a suit bustles past me to a photocopier.

I thought libraries were meant to be quiet. I can see Ami working at the desk, a queue of people in front.

She looks up at me surprised and gives me a quick wave.

I look at my phone and look around. Back to the phone.
I drift from the queue and head to a display table.

New Fiction.
Fiction of the year.
Classics.
Local Writers.

Fuck, there it is.

‘Miserable Bastards’

With the new cover the publisher insisted on.

The room shrinks down around me.
I try to breathe deep.

I try to think of 3 things, I can hear, I can smell.

I feel a cold sweat coming on and then I'm gone.

Back outside.

Standing to the side of the door. Breathing in deep.

I can see the bar from here. The worn wood of the door and into the darkness.

Tag: ongoing story

Rock and Roll

Rock and Roll is Dead

The Price of Books