(instrumental)

CROWD: We demand a universal Grid! We demand a universal Grid!
We demand a universal Grid! We demand a universal Grid!

Ray speaking into a tape recorder

RAY: ID - Ray High, Gridlife Chronicles November the tenth, 1992 I'm working on my own in here, going over some old music I did in 1970 It's got something, something special I could really dream then It ain't such a bad dream either

Walking to a club

RAY: I've been completely degraded by chasing publicity Degraded! Yeah, I'll never go back I know too much I know how it's done I can't discover it all over again, make it seem new

RASTUS: You're great, Ray You know that, man Here, hold up This is the place

RAY: What? Can't go in here That bloody cow Ruth Streeting uses this club She hates my guts

RASTUS: It's her job to hate your guts She's a journalist It's nothing personal Oh sod it, I forgot, of course she won't be here She's in the States Oh c'mon, let's go in anyway We've got to get back in the mainstream sometime Come on, you own shares in the place

RAY: That cow wrote that I'm ugly

RASTUS: Well, you are ugly

RAY: I'm not

RASTUS: Yes you are

RAY: No, I'm not!

RASTUS: Well, you are, actually

RAY: Oh bollocks Oh, let's go in