to get away from the pits and the factories, all that cloth-capped bullshit

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When the scene was at its most vigorous there was this tremendous search for obscurities, and a lot of great records surfaced as a result. But after a while, the chances of discovering some old masterpiece diminish. I started Northern Soul but I actually found the music very limiting because in the early days I’d play a Charles Mingus record, then I’d play a bluebeat disc followed by a Booker T. tune, then a Muddy Waters or Bo Diddley record. Gradually there was this blanding out to one sort of sound. When I started DJing, I could play what I wanted. But after three years I had to keep to the same tempo.

LSD pills being forced down their throats by a group of reckless hippies

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He emerged into the gray London street, set his shoulders and walked quickly through the narrow side roads until he came upon the lively, bustling and loudly-decorated center of London's fashion world. Situated just behind Oxford Circus, Carnaby Street was the Mecca for trendy styles in clothing and pop-art posters: at least, that was the way the British Tourist Association advertised it. The truth of the matter was that the street had lost almost all of its glamour so far as the in-crowd was concerned and it appealed nowadays only to foreign tourists and wide-eyed visitors from the provinces. The place had become little more than a landmark: a slightly more fashionable monument than Nelson's Column or the Houses of Parliament.

recording sessions that made those at Fortune seem professional

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Pickett was among the first of the soul stars to play with an integrated live band, and he would later say, “I don’t think Martin Luther King can take all the credit for kind of scraping shit out down there [in the South], ’cos I think the black entertainers of America had a lot to do with it. I tell you man, we opened the doors, ’cos we were traveling down through there all the time. We stopped going to the back doors, and all that shit. We fought our way out the place, we’ve been shot at, all kinds of shit, had glass put in our food, oh yeah.”

"A monstrous filthinesse, and yet to them a pleasant pastime."

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The Christian code was based, quite simply, upon the conviction that the sexual act was to be avoided like the plague, except for the bare minimum necessary to keep the race in existence. The Church never succeeded in obtaining universal acceptance of its sexual regulations, but in time it became able to enforce sexual abstinence on a scale sufficient to produce a rich crop of mental disease. It is hardly too much to say that medieval Europe came to resemble a vast insane asylum. It is unhappily the case that a good many outstanding figures in the history of the Church showed signs of what today would be regarded as psychological disturbance. It has therefore been necessary to analyse a number of these restless, unhappy, obsessed men, driven by the energies of their bottled up libidos, who were apt to impose their ideals on the average sensual man; some readers may feel, in consequence, that the picture of clerical behaviour that emerges is not a balanced one. Let me therefore emphasise here that, at all periods, there were, of course, within the Church numerous persons of more balanced characters living more normal lives and preaching less extreme views. Numerically, I have little doubt, they outnumbered the extremists, unfortunately, their influence on the Church's policy was usually less.

‘God’s own gift to Shepherds Bush Market threads specialists’

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‘What I tried to put into the Kilburns was the secretive aspect of sartorial elegance,’ said Ian. ‘If you talk about it, you spoil it. As Oscar Wilde said, “The greatest stylist is the one that remains the most obscure.” Once it’s public knowledge, it’s not stylish any more. I knew the New York Dolls a little bit. We’d been to their gigs at Bibas. I read somewhere that their audience used to wear safety pins through their nipples. I thought, “Lighten Up!” So I unwound the safety pin and put it through my lughole. Sartorially, I’m not a claimer, but I would say that I must have worn the first razor blade.’

'to put their arses, by one sort of dancing, in tune for another'

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'The beat of the music is hastened, the dancers' movements become more rapid, more animated, more aggressive, and finally the contredanse evolves into a great gallop. . . . Though at this stage individual indecent movements are no longer seen, the dancers' behaviour and facial expression bear witness to a more intense voluptuousness ... for the music gets quicker and quicker, until one finally sees masked women, like ecstatic maenads, with flushed cheeks, breathless heaving breasts, parched lips, and half-undone flying hair, careering round the room, less on their feet than being dragged along bodily.'