For those of us with a slight punk past (I’m actually a Punk/Mod/Goth/Rude Boy/Soul Boy/Indie Kid cross breed – it can be confusing but I have such a large choice of style depending on my mood, or I would if I could be bothered, I just hate choosing; my big problem is I both love and loathe choice), may remember a little ditty from a small combo from Manchester who still travel with the name Buzzcocks.
The tune was ‘Fast Cars’. It wasn’t their best known number or their biggest ‘statement’ song but it was a touch on the catchy side (not quite as much as measles and nowhere as bad as mumps) and moved along at quite a pace (as is the case with most music filed under the term Punk). I always find the song bubbling to the surface whenever I’m stood next to a fast road, a motorway, a freeway, an autobahn (I’ve not actually stood next to either of the latter but I do like to be a little bit of an Internationalist when I can). Yes your quite right, it is not the safest of hobbies and I have only done it the once (so far, but you never know my luck), and that was out of pure stubborn necessity; I had broken down and the rules say ‘get out of your car, freeze your bits off and enjoy the view (or something quite similar).
There is something quite exciting, almost thrilling, about being buffeted by the displaced cold air and mingled fuel fumes from large pieces of metal and plastic and wood (yes the odd Morris Minor Traveller still does manage to drag it’s owners onto the fast roads, though it does take a while to reach full momentum, so I’ve heard).
It could be frightening but I found, and you may too, that a little music helps in these situations; try it some time. “Fast cars… oh I like… fast cars…. fast cars…”