Spiritualized In One Easy Lesson! (Bleeding Obvious Targets Vol 2)

SCENE: A hushed studio in north-east London lit only by crimson lava lamps. Jason “Piercing” Pierce sits crosslegged on the same carpet which George “Harry” Harrison used to record “Within You Lord My Piggies Pass” with a sitar in his lap which he may one day learn to play. He lays the sitar down carefully and picks up his dobro Stratofendercastpaul 1948 spat-upon-by-Gram-Parsons vintage guitar-shaped thing.

Behind him are seated his band of hired agency hands (contract-only, won’t complain about pay) keen with anticipation for the latest unformed outpouring from his personal Erato.

He solemnly strums a C major chord in adagio tempo, modulating to an E major chord, and then back again. The bass joins in, reproducing precisely the bottom note of each of these chords. After five minutes the drummer joins in, beating solemnly on his solitary tom-tom in the exquisitely pre-post-minimalist style of the Velvet Underground, whose song “Heroin” sounds nothing like anything Spiritualized have ever recorded, for legal reasons.

At eight-and-a-half minutes the mouth of Jason “Donovan” Pierce is pregnant with expiration of his unfettered emotional Camelot. He can bear it no more and begins to intone solemnly (not at all orgasmically):-

“Down. I’m comin’ down. The only way is up. But I’m goin’ down. Down. Down. Oh, my Sweet Lord. There’s blood on my tracks. I’m runnin’ low on my smack. I’m comin’ down. As opposed to sideways. Thinkin’ of those lazy hazy crazy days. To leave my lover there must be 50 ways. The tracks of my tears. Holdin’ back the years. Tears for souvenirs. But tears are not enough. I’m lookin’ for some hot stuff. Baby tonight. Wanna feel alright. The heat is bendin’ my spoon. I’m on the dark side of the moon. I can see the girl from Mars. Playin’ my ten guitars. Never gonna give you up. I’m like a lonely pup. In a Christmas shop. Dancin’ at the hop. But I’m comin’ down. The drugs don’t work. Where’s Captain Kirk? A love supreme. Strange Brew by Cream. She’s got Bette Davis eyes. You’re the devil in disguise. My camera never lies. True love will never dies. My shit’s takin’ an awful long time to cook. She got sexy eyes like Dr Hook. I read it in a book. Knight’s castle to rook. You made me realise. Baby what a big surprise. The girl who lives on heaven hill. Next door to Barnacle Bill. I’m feelin’ oh so fine. Just like it was 1969. And I’m comin’ down no more. Gonna knock on the green door. ‘Cos I’m goin’ high. High in the sky. Up where we belong. You can tell everybody that this is your song. Whoops, this ain’t Moulin Rouge. The nearest tube is street called Goodge. I’m getting’ high! With my American Pie!”

The band suddenly erupts into a feedback-laden climax. Enter the London Community Gospel Choir, their faces beaming with joy as they think of making even more money out of singing dumb whitey public school shit.

“OH HAPPY DAY! OH MY SWEET LORD! OH RELEASE ME! WE ARE THE WORLD!!”

Repeat for 12 minutes, then add Terry Edwards and bloke who plays sax on Stereolab records to echo the primary two chords of the song precisely, and then indulge in some desultory free-form “freakouts” (would like to do “Ascension” but “David” Jason Pierce has an eye on Steve Lamacq’s playlist. In any case he doesn’t know what “Ascension” sounds like, having bought it second-hand in 1994 but never having played it).

Just as the whole stew is about to boil over, Jason “Connery” Pierce adds the icing on the cake. He stops the whole ensemble to whisper:-

“Just say no to drugs. ‘Cos baby it’s tragic. But just say yes. To boogie woogie piano magic.”

Yes! It’s Jools Holland to play the band out with some goodtime rolling boogie-woogie piano magic! Fade out: “AbbbbababaBlueberry! Hill! Sam! Brown! Acoustic!” et fucking cetera.