I woke up in Hull, feeling strange. I had unfinished business.
Magic crab business.
I had to thank the magic crab for sending me back in time so I could interview Lewis Young, recording artist and founder of The Adult Teeth Recording Company. It was the proper thing to do.
I sat outside York Minster again, listening to Aztec Camera and thinking about Scotland. Then that ol’ glint caught my eye, and in a flash I was back on that weird beach.
“Son, is that you?”
I wasn’t his son.
I wasn’t even a crab.
“Take a hold of my claw… I’m dyin’.”
What could I do? I’m a compassionate dude – I took a hold of his claw.
“Son… all we are… is dust in the wind,” he plagiarised.
“Every rose has its thorn.”
Clearly, AOR was providing the old crabby bugger with some comfort.
“Take… these broken wings… and… learn to fly again…”
Now he was taking the piss. Still, I was genuinely sad about the magic crab passing away. I started to tear up as I thought about what he did for me, even though I had been sort of a dick.
“In my life there’s been heartache and pain. I don’t know if I can face it again,” I blubbed.
“You can’t stop now, you’ve travelled so far to change this lonely life.”
“I want to know what love is. I want you to show me.”
I had gone too far – the crab died. I walked away, hands in pockets. Music began to play.