(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