Generation X

Living in a small seaside town, in the wrong end of England, he felt a strong sense that life was happening, only to other people, elsewhere. This was 1977, the Queen’s Silver Jubilee and the TV was filled with good people waving union jacks. “Why don’t I belong?” he thought. Then it happened. And this was big. Here at last was something real, something cool, something fun. Generation X were playing the Coatham Bowl, if only he could get tickets. If only his mum would let him go. And if only she would come with him.

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