A FEW DAYS AGO I was sitting in a café in Brixton with my good friend Skinner. It was a hot, lazy day. The sun was beating on the side of the road and everything was moving in slo-mo. The waitress stopped by our table and lethargically put down our drinks. Skinner was just about to take a sip when his face crumpled and he started shaking his head. “Do you hear that?”
He cocked his head towards the speakers.
“What is it?”
“It’s a road song. Whenever I hear it or start humming it I know it’s time to pack a bag. And hit the road.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, man. Books are worse. I have some I have to keep under lock and key. If I start reading them, that’s it. I’m gone. I have about five or six.” He started to rattle them off but I wasn’t listening. I was deep in thought….