I tell it as it was. It’s a great story, yet one of those that remains only all encompassing because of its example of ‘Godliness’.
Now, an age old memory ‘of another fecking Christmas’ - my 1998 one. My then, toddler of a son was staying with his father. Time out, with no wish to partake in anything to do with the festive facade. I’d borrowed someone’s flat and gone to stay in Paris for ten day’s. A few clothes, a couple of book’s, my roller-blades, and back then, some outsize headphones with one of those portable CD thingy’s.
Meeting up with a few friend’s, but roller-blading in a blissful bubble with my headphones on, in a state of answerable to no one, is really, how I fondly remember Paris 1998. While today, I haven’t had a pair of blades for year’s, my last pair eaten by the mice, when living in the Highland’s of Scotland. Yet blading my way through city-life was a massive addiction, that had begun in LA, and become habitual through the nineties. Gliding at speed for kicks, normally coupled with a spliff, but always with music in my ears. Like galloping a horse, but more 20th Century…
Anyway, it was just one of those moments, the skies opened, a lashing of torrential rain. Proper hammering, the stuff you don’t brave. I was up by the Sacre Coeur ‘the Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris.’ Along with a few other’s I’d dived towards the church door’s for cover. Oddly, in all the times I’d been in Paris, I’d never actually been in the Sacre Coeur. So going through the whole fluff of blades off, trainers on; as the rain poured, the urge was to have a look. Another mausoleum, another remarkable example of human craftsmanship and the vulgar wealth in religion, wtf??
So there I am gawping at ‘all the wonders of our god’s’ innocently standing there, blades in hand, ruck-sack over my shoulder. When a man in church cloth, grabbed me roughly by the arm and started marching me back towards the door. Ranting at me, yet I couldn’t hear what he was saying, because I had my headphones on, and I couldn’t take them off because he had one arm and I had my blades in the other. Ffeck, grabbing my arm back, ‘What…?’
It is as was. I was kicked out of the Sacre Coeur, literally pushed out of the door’s and back into the rain by an irate Catholic ‘man of god’ for wearing headphones, for listening to music in a church?
Meanwhile, the irony, ‘the beauty in this whole Christmas story’ is that through out this fine example of Christian Godliness, as I was thrown from the temple and back into the storm. The actual track playing in my ears was this...
As I said, its just a memory, yet one that is never not recollected at this time of year, by a now nearly twenty year old Faithless track.
Tags: Music, Paris, Faithless, Religion, God is a DJ, Christmas,