Liccono

I am with (the late) The Charlatans keyboard player Rob Collins. He's casually dressed, as per their Weirdo promo photos, with denims, a t-shirt and a bomber jacket on top. His hair is long-ish, cut in around his neck. We are talking about him being the 'Hammond King' and somehow we make a jump to/joke of the 'Hammond Queen'. He quips that whichever of these it is that it's always “cold wars” (and I remember thinking is that because the organ keys are cold to the touch?). We are walking near a bungalow, similar to the one I grew up in, and I can just make out huge The Charlatans posters on the internal walls - I can see them through the blinds over the large front windows - and I'm sure I heard something about an exhibition- 

I am with my big brother and Noel Gallagher. I am slagging Noel a little about Oasis as he starts to take off - we are in a sort of airlock/plane environment and he and my brother are securely belted in, Noel over to the left, my brother to the right, nearer myself. I am frightened as Noel (who seems to be in complete control without there being any evidence of actual, physical controls) really begins to tilt the plane(?), intentionally climbing to a high altitude. I am desperately grasping for supporting handles over by my brother, hanging on with one hand for dear life, terrified that Noel will opt to open the door to the plane and that I will be sucked out. I somehow manage to reach right across the compartment, my body at full stretch, to grip the support handle on Noel's side too, somewhat easing my fear of being ejected- 

We are now walking with Noel in Glasgow. I am mocking his brother Liam's new singing style, singing unintelligible lyrics down through my nose, breathing and rushing as he does these days. I try this again, with actual lyrics, with considerably less (amusing) success. I talk to Noel about Mogwai, saying that 2(?) of the members own a pub in Berlin, one owns a vegan cafe in the Southside of Glasgow and that their guitarist Stuart Braithwaite does a lot of community work there too. Noel seems non-committal as to whether he has met or even likes them-

Our route takes us to some historic buildings of considerable architectural beauty, great ornate structures with exceptional decorative stonework, street archways and features. There are several of these constructs and we walk between them in quiet wonder. Noel approaches a very fancy set of double doors, doors finished in a swirling timber veneer with wrought metal handles. I make a joke about him probably being important enough to get them to open and indeed he is. He reappears with a bundle of mail which, as it happens, seems to be addressed to the art Studio where I used to work. Noel sifts through the mail, passing me several envelopes (addressed to Brian Miller?) that he quickly dismisses as 'gas bills'. The envelopes, evidently regarding some business, are so aged they have almost become opaque, the slip of paper visible within. There is also a letter for Kay Emm in the pile-