London, 1963, Mods and Rockers are fighting regularly. But many go through similar daily ordeals. This narrative follows a young Mod of 19 and a Rocker of 24 through their lives. They may have more in common with each other than they think, but will they ever see it?
The Ivy League plays. All around the ballroom. All around everywhere. Life. The universe. Everything is here. Lights flicker. On and off. Head spinning. I’m falling. But I’m up there. With the Gods. People are around me. But they can’t feel this. And I can’t feel them. I’m alone. But I’m mighty. Anything can happen. It can’t stop! It mustn’t stop! If it stops I’ll fall. No angels to catch me. All Hell will break loose. I will be alone still. In darkness. And despair. It can’t happen. I know it won’t. I’m up there. And I’m never coming down. Never. And if I do I will fly. Fly to the safety of the music. Music is love. Love is great. Where’s that girl? I love her. But she’s gone. Maybe with another man. I hope not. Am I not good for her? Oh no! I’m useless. Fucking useless. I can’t even satisfy a girl. A single fucking girl! I have no hope. But she may not be. She may be looking for me. Who the fuck is she? Who am I? Do I care? People around me don’t seem to know. But I’m still going upwards. I’m flying so high I can’t see anyone. They’re there. But not aware. My love flies with me above the clouds. All music is love. And all music is freedom. It has to be loud. Louder than this. Loud enough to shout from the top of a mountain to make the whole world hear. This is like a fucking muted TV. No. It’s worse than that. It’s nothing. Fucking pathetic. It has to be loud! LOUD so I don’t fall into the Devil’s arms. He will take me. Molest me. He won’t. He can’t. Can he? Yes. No! Yes. NO!. Yes. NOOO! Yes.