Watercolour Eyes

The Sad attempt of Mental Mickey

1973

The community hall was a place where people held dinner parties or dances, Christmas do's or Council meetings.

It was not however, where you'd expect to find four sixteen year old boys from the flats rehearsing what they like to call music.

In the "band" there consisted of Chuck Neil, Stanley Harper, Lennie Godber and finally Michael Allen. Or better known as, Mental Mickey. Mickey had his hair styled like a teddy boy along with a denim sleeveless jacket which was littered in studs over his black shirt. 

The rest of them looked like awkward punk boys trying to fit in with Mickey. Honestly they all looked like they were still discovering their styles, and being teenagers who could blame them.

Godber didn't though. Instead he was dressed completely normal, with a simple pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, his hair cut looked like George Harrison's. All in all he looked as though he didn't fit in with them at all but he didn't seem bothered about it. 

Sat on a chair across from Chuck was Vanity, a sixteen-year-old girl with a striking presence. She was living with her grandmother at the time and had formed close friendships with Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren. Her style was a blend of punk and goth at the time.

The band launched into a chaotic rendition of their latest song, the sounds bouncing off the walls in a cacophony that barely resembled music. "Baby won't you buy me a brand new suit! Like they wore in '62. I wanna be in the latest craze. I wanna be in the news! Wanna get my name on the front page 'cos my suit was all the rage." Mickey turned to Lennie on the drums and began to dance in a very uncoordinated way however he didn't care, he wanted to look as mad as possible.

"Teenage!" The boys all sang in unison. "Teenage! I wanna be Teenage! I wanna be!" The guitar played, sometimes missing a few chords or plucking the wrong string. "C'mon Lennie give us some symbol!" Mickey encouraged. Lennie's eyebrows furrowed as he stopped playing for a second. "Symbol?" He asked, confused, wondering if Mickey was being serious as Lennie was literally using boxes as drums. 

Midway through their performance, the door to the community hall swung open. Malcolm McLaren, with his distinctive red hair and sharp, discerning eyes, strolled in. He took in the scene with a bemused expression, a smirk playing on his lips. He was an enigmatic figure, respected and feared in equal measure within the rising punk scene.

As Mickey turned around he immediately stopped singing when he saw Malcolm. "hold up hold up!" He said to his band mates as they stopped playing their mundane instruments. "What's he doin' here?" Mickey asked annoyed as he pointed to Malcolm, who pulled up a chair and turned it around, sitting backwards on it. "Just thought i'd come down here and listen to you lads. Don't mind do you?" Malcolm asked with a mocking smile. 

"You've just come down here on the wind-up haven't you?" Vanity asked with narrowed eyes, knowing Malcolm's games. "Ocontrare Vanity my dear, Ocontrare. No actually i'm very impressed. He sounds in good voice does young Mental Mickey." Malcolm teased. 

"I don't like people calling me that!" Mickey shouted, his voice getting progressively louder as he yelled. Malcolm however didn't seem phased. "I'm so sorry i'd better put my hands over my earlobes hadn't i?"Malcolm teased. Referring to an incident that happened with Mickey and some other guy. They'd gotten into an argument and Mickey had quite literally bitten the guy's earlobe off. 

"Why don't you piss off down the pub McLaren?" Stanley chimed in bitterly, just wanting rid of this guy. "Oi oi watch it! This is our community hall. Anyone's entitled to walk in here." Malcolm said, regaining his composure as he puffed on a cigarette.