We Were The Coolest. Part One

Back in the late 1990's, two fresh young bucks although separated by geography where as in tune as most brothers living in the same house. Best friends split by 200 miles, they enlisted the art of letter writing and countless hours on the house phone to fill each other in on the exploits their personal and thoughts. During this period, considering they didnt really have a penny to their name both devised a plan. You visit, I visit.

A principle which stood the test of time, until Demola came to visit me in East London and we both managed to inadvertanly get ourselves chased around Leciester Square by a mob of road man. What was even more stupid, is that the gold chains they were willing to kill us for were fake. (Purchased from the dud shops that resided just around the corner on Tottenham Court Road).

Thinking about the incident now, I'm confused as to why we didnt just hand over the fake chains, as opposed to risking our lives for some kit kat wrapper covered metal. Well, either way I slipped into a Gap store and took one look at the mindless thug speaking telepathically to him. "If you wanna come for me, you're going to have to do it here infront of CCTV and Gap staff." It seems telepathy works... because after 5 - 10 minutes him and his goons were gone.

At this point, it had transpired that another one of our mutual friends had slipped into the underground and vanished. That left me confused as to where my right hand man had got to. This was before mobiles, internet and infact pagers were barely on the scene. I can't quite recall the events after, although eventually me and Demola met back up at my house 25 minutes away by the central line.

It transpired that he had done some olympic worthy long jump/high jump clearance of an iron fence and flew into a police station to evade his hunter. A few days after, the same chains we nearly got killed for started to fade, and the cheap but clearly effective plating peeled off.Well ever since that little escapade, Demola strangely kept evading his turn to come down to London leaving me to venture 200 miles over to Merseyside much more often than him.

Out of the ashes of this unfortunate drama, it gave birth to some superb summers by the Mersey.  Summers often coined as "bad boy weather," after the Will Smith film.  Liverpool adopted me as one of their own and in turn me and Demola went on adventures worthy of a modern day Enid Blyton novel.

We were convinced we were so cool and stylish, we did everything in our power to convey that, I mean, I rolled around with a brown shimerring AMERICA regal club jacket, or my bright yellow rubber SOUTHPOLE jacket, whilst Demola rocked about in his Nike caps, tracksuits and casio calculator watch.

I should also mention that I was always sporting a heavily jelled curly mop, faded down the sides. Considering were barely 14 years old... we were macking. Macks with sensibilities. Our headquarters would become Demola's bedroom with an enviously large floor space,  which I exploited as a dance floor. A treasure chest full of miscellaneous items to the left infront of the chimney breast... an airing cupboard direct opposite the door which came in handy for drying clothes needed with the quickness. However, the main source of inspiration that this room possessed with a Sharp CD player suspended on a lonely wall shelf.

All day, every day, me and Demola would select CD's to play from the generic 90's style CD tower underneath. Fond memories of playing Salt n Pepper's Champagne single which had the power to call a truce and allow this usually annoying little sister into our domain and join our private, oh so cool pre party.

Other times, I'd be sliding around the carpet to Ginuwine's Pony thinking I was actually him... Yep the jelled hair had alot of powers. We both developed out musical senses and personality traits in that room... Dru Hill's first album, (Which I bought on import from HMV with £20 that Demola's dad probably gave to me gave to me out of pity).

Guy's album, R.kellys "R" double album, I mean... even the day we heard Aaliyah had died... it was a Sunday. I happened to be in Liverpool. We came home and I set up some mini shrine to her with her albums covers spread out, whilst blasting the "One in a million" album spinning on repeat.

Yep, we forged alot of memories in and around Smithdown road. This New Edition video perfectly captures who we thought we were. Smooth secret agents on the prowl with RnB playing softly in the background. I mastered the first rap verse, while Demola mastered the second.

"Now check it
I'm taking no loses
Now I'm the boss
And I see you flossin
My way with the grace
All up in your face
So I say
What's up love
How ya doin'
What you think
About me and you scre...
Nah but wait
Let's make a date
Plans for dinna I'm down to take it slow
Cauz I know that
She's a winner uhh,
Got me feinin' for
The cream don't you know
I'm movin' in slow but
Keep it low, low, low"

Demola's part...

"Yeah, yeah, yeah baby boo
Yo what's up with you
Word around camp is
That you like it with two
I wanna freak it, but first I'm gonna
Take a peak at it grab it, stab it,
Cause you know I got's to
Have it so hit me."

I'm telling you, we were the coolest!


Joshua, TCC