Northern Soul (2014) Movie Script

Soz, it wasn't me. Lt were him.
Do you want that, then?
- I'll have it.
- Get lost!
Come on.
My mum locked us out
and I've had nothing all day.
Go on.
Why are you hopping?
I broke my leg. I got run over.
Jesus, all right.
Well, what's up?
Lt smells nice. Lt smells of pear drops.
You better open the window
or we'll both be on our bloody backs.
The careers officer was seeing
parents at school last week and...
Well, we've missed it.
That arrived this morning
asking where we were.
I've been down there this afternoon
and had a word with Mr Banks.
Are you refusing to get involved?
I was proper shown up at that school today.
Well, I've not encouraged any of it.
He's becoming a weirdo!
A recluse at his age.
Recluse is a bit of a
strong word, isn't it?
You stay out of this, Dad.
I want to hold my head up in this town.
What about that youth club?
Oh, Mum, I'm not going.
Your cousin Lee's not
scared of going there.
I'm not scared!
What's your problem, then?
Two steps.
Yeah, you're OK.
Grab the door frame.
- You all right?
- Yeah.
Bloody hell, what's this?
You do what you want with this.
I can't take that.
You take it.
They'll only bloody nick it off me in here.
They're not that bad, are they?
Gotta share with the bastards
on the night shift.
- OK.
- All right.
I'll see you Saturday morning, then.
- You'll be all right.
- Yeah.
So, with your curriculum vitae,
uh, that's Latin, by the way,
you don't need to know that...
But your CSEs, metalwork, maths,
science, if you pass them,
where do they go?
- You're late again, Clark!
- Been doctor's, sir.
You all right?
Wait a minute!
I'll not have sexual
molestation in my class.
And it'll only ever be molestation
with a face like yours, Clark!
Book out, mallet head.
And while you're about it,
do your top buttons up,
we don't want to see your wispy bum fluff!
You cretin!
You want to be a bit more like your cousin.
He's a bit docile, but he knows his place.
Clark! You bird brain.
Let's have it. Come on.
Come on. Let's get it over with.
What have we got here?
Oh, it's a poem.
"I've got the blues for you.
"I'll never get used to that feeling
that you're gone.
"I'll never get used to knowing
I'm not the one."
That's bobbins, that is, Clark.
Who's the unlucky girl?
Sir, he fancies a nurse on the bus!
Oh, yeah?
They're quite good in bed, nurses.
That's not what we are here to discuss.
It's not going to get you a job, is it?
All right, sit down.
I told your mother last week
you'd never amount to anything.
And that goes for rest of you,
you bunch of mallet heads!
Now, single file on the left!
Bruiser, I got it!
I got the queer notebook!
Hey! Give it me back!
Nice poems, you little poof.
What do you know about birds?
You don't even go out.
You want it, you little spaz?
Too busy wanking. Wanking over that nurse.
Come on, then.
Get him, get him. Go on, Bruise.
Have him, have him!
- Fuck off!
- Hey! Hey!
- Fuck off, you twat!
- Ponce!
Fuck off!
I didn't know you were here, love.
Have you thought any more
about the youth club?
It'll be on tomorrow.
All right, I'll go once.
Good lad to you.
Well, I bet once you've been,
you'll want to go again.
- You little fez.
- Are you all right?
Yeah, not bad. I got a couple
of sixties things in my bag.
Maybe we could stick them on at the end.
What have I told you?
Look, no old stuff.
- What?
- Shite, I've gotta change the record!
Hey, look, it's up to you. You're the DJ.
Look, I'm not playing to
an empty dance floor.
It's all about the charts.
Do you still want to be a DJ?
Yeah, but I'll convert them.
Give me a go. One record.
I reckon it will fill the floor.
Just one.
I'll make sure Linda is out of the way.
Oh, for fuck's sake, not this shite again.
All right, kids,
that's it for tonight.
I'll see you all again in a month.
Oi, knobhead! Fat twat!
Fucking have him! Go on, Bruiser!
Come on, then!
Get him down, Bruise. Come on.
Fucking have him! Wanker! Come on, then!
Come on, Bruiser.
Fuck him up now, you twat!
Hey! Come on, then,
you fucking wankers!
Oi, you're banned!
- Get out!
- Linda!
You little sod, get out! Go on.
I see you around here again,
I'll kick your fucking teeth in!
Go on! Move! Move! Move!
Thanks for that, mate.
- What's your name?
- It's, uh, John.
I'm Matt.
Hey, are you into Northern Soul?
I've got tons of Northern
records, me. I've got all the labels.
Lt were brilliant, that one.
I've never heard of any of it before.
I could tell.
You look like you're stuck in the '50s.
Oh, and that dancing you were doing,
it was like watching Bruce Lee.
Look. Step like me.
That's it.
Then I twist each foot.
Just like that.
That's it.
You're doing it.
That's the basic fucking step.
Bruce bastard Lee, eh?
See that.
"Burnsworth is a shithole."
Whoever did that was absolutely spot-on.
- Every day I look at that and...
- I did that.
- You what?
- I did that.
What, you wrote that?
You're a fucking terrorist, ain't you?
They knock about together.
Really? How do you know him?
I don't, really.
Oh, good.
Where's your mum and dad?
Dad's dead. Mum left us. Come on.
Hey, I'll tell you what,
you'll like that Edwin Starr.
Got a fucking great record for you.
I got his tape, right.
Taped live at Blackpool.
It's our Paul's, but I can lend it to you,
if you like it.
"Den of iniquity?
"Thousands of teenagers
dance the night away.
"High on amphetamines."
Wigan Casino, as soon as I look old enough,
I'm gonna go down there
and watch a Henderson set.
Be careful with this.
Paul taped it live at Blackpool.
- Yeah?
- It's Ray Henderson's set.
Hello, hello.
Did someone mention amphetamines? Eh?
This is John.
He just helped me in a scrap.
Some big bastard from his school
started on me.
He waded in.
Well done, pal.
You know that graffiti
on the end of Newbold Street?
- Yeah.
- "Burnsworth is a shithole."
- PAUL Yeah.
- Lt was him. He did it.
What, you wrote that?
Just the shithole bit.
Spot-on, pal.
He must be one of us.
Full of pond life, Burnsworth.
All anyone looks forward to
is going down local.
Not us though, eh, brother?
We're off to the States next year.
The States?
Tell him.
We're going to get records.
They've got warehouses
and basements full of them.
You're joking?
He's got contacts in Detroit and Chicago.
I'm gonna get tons of stuff no one's heard.
I'll have everyone begging me to DJ.
Yeah. Can't even get a spot at youth club.
You watch, I'm working on Tez.
He'll give me a go.
We'll see about that, you useless bastard.
Hey, are you giving us some or what?
All right.
Got four each, that's your lot.
There you go, pal.
Think you've earned these.
Get 'em down your neck.
What'll happen?
"What'll happen?"
In 45 minutes you'll be into next week.
Well, don't worry.
They're made for fatties to lose weight.
There you go.
I'm going record-hunting
tomorrow in Manchester.
- Do you wanna come?
- Yeah.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
See you about 2:00, then.
- All right.
- Yeah.
- Ta-Ra.
- See you later.
Oi, knock on back.
Fucking hell!
Hey, let us in.
Visiting time is over!
It's not even dinner time yet!
I said it's over!
Fucking hell!
Hey up, cocker.
Hey, I wanna buy that record. You know,
the first one on Ray Henderson's tape.
It says here, "Cover-Up".
Is that the title?
No, it's a cover-up. I'll come down.
It's a cover-up, it's been covered up.
Cover-up's where the DJ's hidden the title.
He gets a piece of paper
and it covers up the label,
so no-one else can find it.
Shit! How do I...
If I wanted to go and
buy one, how would I...
How would I know what to ask for.
You wouldn't.
Why do you think I wanna go to America?
It's the only place you can go and find
a record that nobody's heard already.
You're all fired up, aren't you?
How was your night?
I just... I didn't even sleep. I just...
- I get these...
- Tingles.
- Yeah, tingles, down the back of my neck.
- Brilliant.
See these lyrics, right?
I wrote them all down.
They just jumped out at me.
Really grabbed me.
- Tobi Legend?
- Yeah, they really meant something.
Does that sound daft?
- Bloody hell, you have been busy.
- Yeah.
"Life is just one precious minute.
Open up your eyes and see it.
"Give yourself a better chance
because time will pass you..."
- Do you know what I mean?
- I do.
Fucking great.
That's like the great thing
about soul music.
You listen to the lyrics on all
them records and they talk to you.
Detroit, '68, Ric-Tic label.
Like my neck.
Oh, dick.
Hey, Bazz, stick this on for us, will you?
Put both booths on.
Hey, come on.
Fucking hell, those trumpets!
Hey! Come on, there's tons of stuff.
Philadelphia, a mean sound.
And Wand label from New York.
Bloody hell, I'm having that.
That is a great magazine.
Lt tells you all about soul records
and like, singers and that.
Have a look in back,
a fella called John Anderson.
He owns Soul Bowl Records.
All the top DJs buy from him.
You know, like Ray Henderson.
Move away from this section. Thank you.
Hey, you, fuck off!
We're buying serious stuff here.
You're not the only one
that likes "serious" music.
What're you doing,
three weeks Friday?
Piss off, dickhead!
I'm playing soul at the youth club.
Youth club?
Have you heard this, Ange?
Hey, I know you. The bus?
- Yeah.
- He always gives up his seat for me.
- I wouldn't sit where he's fucking been.
- Aw!
It's always nice and warm.
Come on, Ange. We're not hanging
here with these kiddy-winks.
Who's the black bird?
I see her on the bus every morning.
She's a nurse.
A nurse, eh? Hey, maybe she could see
to this weird swelling I keep getting.
She wouldn't be interested in me anyway.
No, not when your mum's
dressing you in that clobber!
They got them. Brilliant!
Solatios. Fucking best!
I can't pay you back in full.
Don't worry about it. Hey, come on.
Hi, is this Soul Bowl Records?
Hi. Um, do you have a record by a Lou
Pride, I'm Com'un Home In The Morn'un?
Nice kit! Have you won pools?
Who the fuck are you?
You look nearly as good as me.
Do I look all right?
50% Bruce Lee!
Hey, I got this from Soul Bowl Records,
Lou Pride.
It's on the tape, from the all-nighter,
Ray Henderson's set.
I heard the first ten seconds or so of it.
Now I've heard the whole thing. It's great!
Do you want it?
Fucking hell, no. You keep it.
- Take it.
- All right.
It's a fucking great record. Hey.
Come on, we're going for it.
Oi, oi, oi!
Tez's car's broke down.
Oh, yeah? How long will he be?
I don't know. About half hour.
I'll get things going.
You got any charts?
No, I've got loads of soul.
Just wait here, you two, all right?
I'm on.
Are you gonna get on the dance floor?
Hey, this is our chance.
Just give me five minutes.
I've got an idea!
All right, sunshine. Let's have a little
bit of this, shall we, while we wait.
Hey, come to the youth club.
Hey, can you dance?
Hey, where've you been?
Been rounding people up to dance.
Rounding people up to dance.
What? Who are they?
I'll tell you in a minute.
You get some soul on or what?
I'm flying. Come on!
Now, it's time for some real music.
It's the moment you've
all been waiting for.
Let's see you on that floor!
It's Frankie Valli's The Night.
You getting on the floor or what?
Hey, mate! You're fucking brilliant!
What a night! What a night!
Did you see some of those moves?
Those Bruce Lee kicks and that! Yeah.
Have you asked your Paul
about me coming to America with you?
- You better get saving up.
- Are you...
Are you serious? I can come with you?
Listen, Terrorist!
If I say we make good team,
I mean we make good team.
I say the three of us,
we could go to States.
Come back with enough unknowns
to give Ray Henderson, or any man,
a good run for his money!
So, we're... We're going?
Yeah. Let's do it.
Let's go to America! Let's do it.
We're going to America! Come on!
Hey. Easy.
Forget the top ten, it's all propaganda.
This is underground,
but it's gonna be massive.
This is...
Shit. What're you doing?
Get on with it.
You don't have to be Jimmy fucking Savile.
This is Lou Pride and
I'm Com'un Home In The Morn'un
Keep these curtains closed.
Everyone in the street can see you.
And keep the noise down!
All right!
Fucking hell!
Well, thanks for letting us know.
Bye, now.
What's going on?
He's gone.
He's passed away in his sleep.
What? Who?
Your granddad.
They said he had a stroke.
He's in a peaceful place now, love.
It's 5:00 in the bloody morning!
What are you doing dressed?
You didn't want him here, did you?
I'll take you to see him if you like.
Before the funeral.
What's going on?
You've got your way now.
There's some tea there.
John, what do you think you're doing?
Just calm down.
He's dead
and neither of you give a fuck!
Don't use language like that in here!
You're a grown man now,
you should be able to control yourself.
Now come on.
Just drink your tea and calm down.
No, I'm not fucking having it!
- John!
- Look at him!
This is what he does!
He fucking hated that fucking home!
And it's your fucking fault!
Do something!
All right. You have two hours.
Please turn over your paper and begin.
Oi, blockhead. Eyes on your paper.
Do you not hear me, Clark?
Right, sit down. Now!
- Are you deaf? I said...
- Fuck off.
What did you say, lad?
I said fuck off!
That's a fire door!
You'll regret this, Clark!
Someone let me back in.
Here you go, love.
Oi! Oi!
Fucking look at him. Look at him.
Is that the best you can do?
Come on, you fucking bastards!
Right, enough of that.
No more of that language, son.
Fuck off!
Matt, there's a letter here.
- You all right, Ben?
- Matt.
They're not letting us in. It's that Linda.
She's not putting you on.
What's going on, Linda?
I'm bringing Terry back on tonight.
- Why?
- I'm not having you on them decks any more.
All that swearing.
I've been coming here
every fucking month and doing it!
- What are you on about?
- I've had enough of your antics on that mic
and that music of yours
is just bloody trouble!
Most people came for our music.
Tell her, Terry.
You know they all fucking like it.
I think it were much better
when I was playing charts meself.
What do you know?
You haven't got a fucking clue!
Listen here, you cheeky little git,
the only reason you're on them decks
is because you let my car tyres down!
- I didn't touch your crappy car!
- Yeah, you did!
- You told me you did.
- See!
- Showing off!
- Fuck off, you cretin!
Calm down and you go home now,
or I'll get someone to make you go.
Piss off, you lesbian!
You shit!
- Fuck off!
- What are you doing?
I'm calling the police!
Hey, come on.
Fucking have it!
That fucking nasty bitch
don't know a thing about music!
I'm bringing Terry back on.
I'm gonna torch that shithole.
Who's helping me?
We'll start our own club.
No more divs on the dance floor,
we can DJ all night long
and play what the fuck we want.
Yeah, but it costs loads
of money to buy a night club.
Bollocks! You rent it.
Get people to pay in.
That pays for it.
Yeah, and the money we make,
we put towards America.
You're not in on it, pal.
I know. Me and Bruiser
are going on our own.
Well, pipe down. I were on a roll then.
Sorry, man.
Yes! Now you're talking!
Our Paul knows of a club
with an ace wooden dance floor.
That's what we want,
none of this shitty concrete crap.
- Yeah, a proper dance floor.
- Yeah.
Yeah. Fucking yeah!
All right, I'll just go and get him.
He's out in the back making a phone call.
Are you two promoters?
- Yeah.
- How old are you?
I'm 18, he's 18.
OK, I'll go and get him.
It's a great dance floor.
I can see meself up here.
Dance floor full of fit birds.
Lou Pride playing top blast!
- Get down, you dick.
- The queue a mile long outside!
"Matty, Matty, Julie and Tracy are
at the door. They can't get in.
"Can you come and let them in? Please?"
Oh, shit.
All right?
Where's your fucking dad?
Who are you, Baby Face Nelson?
Sorry, girls.
Come back when your balls have dropped.
We're 18!
18? It's 21 you have to be!
My brother's 21, he's doing it with us.
- So where is he, then?
- He's coming in a bit.
Don't waste my fucking time, eh?
Rita! Where's that fucking delivery?
All right, I've been on the phone.
Don't worry.
Well, why didn't you find out
the age thing was 21 first?
I didn't think about it.
It's all right. Our Paul
will sort it, you'll see.
Get off me! Ah, you fucking bastards!
Get off...
Paul, what's happening?
What's going on?
I'll get you out.
He might not get out for months.
What are we gonna do?
We need more records
before we start our own club anyway.
Jesus! When did you decide that?
- - Fucking hell,
you're doing it again, you dick!
All right, you! Twice in one day!
Follow me, the pair of you!
No bloody gumption.
Too busy thinking about
going out every night!
What this country needs is
another bloody war to shape you lot.
Come on!
You! You're on deliveries!
And you! You're in oven room.
With my little friend.
Who are you?
I've been sent down here by Yarwood.
He wants me to work in here.
Don't open the fucking door!
- I thought...
- Sit!
Jesus fucking Christ!
Fancy a fucking go, do you?
No. No, look.
Oi! Oi, oi, Matt, Matt, Matt, this is Sean!
He's one of us! Hey, check out his tat.
- Hey. You want a pint?
- I'm fine, thanks.
Stay here, mate, I'll get them in.
So what's your name,
then, sweetheart?
What you doing with that crazy bastard?
He bit a bloke's ear off last year.
What would you do if some bloke
came at you with a fucking shovel?
- You drunk?
- No.
What's a cockney doing up here?
He moved for the music.
The lads upstairs say he's on the run.
Doing someone in.
He changed his name and everything.
He's going to Wigan. Wigan!
- Tonight!
- Yeah.
Ray fucking Henderson's gonna be playing.
He said we could go with him.
You do what you like, I'm off.
Hey, wait, wait, wait.
He can help us get our club going.
He's well fucking old.
Our Paul's out soon!
Fuck off. Fuck off.
- Matt!
- The fucking tits on that, mate.
Get them down you.
Do you fancy coming back to ours
and play a few records
- before heading out?
- Yeah, why not, mate.
- Here you go, mate.
- Thanks.
Here you go, mate.
You can have them for nowt.
- Thanks.
- Them will last you a couple of weeks.
Don't do more than four tonight,
they're pretty strong.
And listen, a word of advice.
Don't go on the needle. Once you get
into that, there's no coming back.
- The needle?
- Injecting.
It's for fucking divs.
All right, cheers, I'll go easy.
This is gonna be a great night, boys!
We're fucking going! Finally!
This tape's fucking ace. Who made it?
We did, it's our set, me and John.
We double deck together.
We're invincible, aren't we?
Who bought this one, then? Exus Trek?
- He did. Matt.
- Put it there, mate.
Look? This is in my top three.
Fucking hell!
Oh, bollocks!
- What's up?
- We need petrol.
There's a station in about a mile.
Hang on. I'm going to pull in here.
Siphon some petrol from that
poxy fucking van back there.
Hey. Under le' Well.
What a fucking name.
Where the fuck are we?
Who needs talcum powder
on your soles,
when you've got this much fucking rain.
It's slippery.
Hey, check out this spin.
Who are you fucking looking at?
Come to do ballet dancing
at the Casino, have we?
Fucking queers!
I could punch your fucking lights out,
while kicking the crap out of lanky here.
Same fucking time...
Come on! Get in!
Come on, then, you fucking bastards!
Get in the fucking car!
Fucking in-breds!
Oh, fuck me, they were some moves.
Did you see him, the scary bastard?
- Never underestimate anyone in a fight.
- Yeah.
Get in first, bang them as hard as you can.
Lt all happened so fast.
I didn't have any time to react.
Speed makes you fast.
Just have some more, you've had fuck all.
I've already had a couple.
Four more won't do you any harm.
Go on, the one's you've had already
would have kicked in
by now if they were any good.
Go on, have a few more. Take these.
Lt feels fucking great!
- Go on!
- Hey, watch the road, you.
- All right!
- John, this is it.
We're finally going to
go see Ray Henderson!
Truly lonely..
She's here!
The nurse, Angela! Look!
She's got a bloke. Ugly fucking lump.
Wait till we get in there.
Ten-a-penny birds like her.
Falling over to get
themselves a lad like you.
Shut up, you queer bastards.
Yes, boys, Frank and Phil.
All right! What time do you call this?
What's happening?
Keep your hair on.
Just sorted out some right Herberts!
Looks like you fucking
brought them with you!
Don't be rude. That's Matt and John.
Well into the scene they are.
Be nice. Don't bite.
Are you all right?
You all right?
Hurry up...
What are they doing?
Speed. They're going in on a needle.
Come on.
Are you fucking ready for this?
Are you fucking ready?
Back up!
Get in!
What? What are you going to do?
Yes, yes. Calm down.
He's got tickets!
The crown of Detroit soul.
This is Mr Duke Browner.
What's up with him?
Don't know.
He's got a bonk-on over the records.
He's got a bit of a problem.
Sweet baby Jesus! Have you seen him?
Dances like a diva!
I need to go to the bogs for water.
Can you not wait?
Bloody hell, you're covered in sweat!
I'll be back. In a minute, I'll be back.
You look like a willing dance floor to me!
You've got me, Ray Henderson,
for the next hour!
Let's start as we mean to go on.
Gwen Owens, Wanted!
- Have you seen John?
- Yes, mate, fucking brilliant!
Get off him!
John! You OK?
You've got to help John, he's dying.
- What? Where is he?
- John's dying!
- Can you hear me?
- He had a few pills before.
How much? A lot?
I don't know. A few.
Go to entrance and get them to call
an ambulance! Now!
Fucking hell!
My friend's collapsed in the bogs.
- What?
- My friend's collapsed in the bogs.
All right, I'll sort it.
But I want him out.
What's going on? Where is he?
Relax, look over there.
He's dancing.
- John!
- What a fucking night!
I thought you were dying.
I've never felt so fucking alive!
This is the country's top sound right now!
So all you bootleggers can back off!
No prisoners tonight.
The cover-up!
This bloke is fucking brilliant!
Bombers, green-and-clears, riccas.
Get on, you twat!
Come on, get it together,
if you want a lift.
We're going to the Stoke all-dayer!
Give us some of that gear
before it wears off!
Amphet, come on, anything.
Sean's got loads of it in the back.
Come on.
Will you keep your gob shut
about taking gear?
Sorry, pal. Lt were a joke.
We weren't thinking.
- See him?
- Who?
He's Old Bill.
He never buys gear, never dances,
never buys records.
His tattoo on his hand, see it?
I'm certain when Frank
sold him gear last week,
that Lancashire rose,
it was stronger-looking with thicker lines.
- Why did he sell him the gear?
- Well, he looked spot-on.
Then we all noticed he wasn't
in a hurry to neck his gear,
so now, I've been watching him ever since.
Hey, get in Frank, Phil.
Come on, knees up,
make room for two little-uns.
What are we waiting for?
Going to Stoke, aren't we?
You two again?
Hanging around full-time now?
Hey, I'd watch him.
How much will you give me for it?
Breaking my heart with this one. A pound.
Oi, lads!
Hey, I've got some stuff
right up your street.
Straight from the States, like.
Hey, hang on. Take that.
We're going to lose the girls.
Come on.
I've got plenty more where they came from,
and on that same label.
Well, I'm in the Navy, aren't I?
So I pick them up and stuff, you know.
The name's Tezza, this is my address.
If you want to come back and get some more,
you know where to find me, yeah?
Give us all of it. Sixty quid.
She's eying you up again, pal.
Go on.
Get in. The place is crawling
with plain-clothed coppers.
What's wrong?
It's that black girl, ain't it?
Nice old girl, I'd bang her one.
Just won the dance competition!
Dance competition?
Didn't know they even had them.
Listen, mate, I don't know
who you are, but do yourself a favour,
put that away, it's embarrassing.
Jesus! Who's organising
fucking dance competitions?
His face.
We might as well go to fucking Butlins!
Hey, look what Angela gave us.
Lt gives a description of every drug.
Bombers, green-and-clears...
It's written by doctors,
pharmacists, and that.
Why did she give you that?
I think it was meant for you.
So you don't go and take the wrong thing,
collapsing again.
What's up with you anyway?
Right, if you did a less fucking pharmacy,
we might be able to get our club going.
I know you've been injecting as well.
What's it to you if I've been injecting?
It's no different having pills.
We're in at the Polish Club?
Hey, he's been down and done the deal.
Our Paul's out in a few weeks,
he's doing it with us.
What's that?
Fucking MIMS?
I told you to keep it quiet.
Fucking idiot!
Jesus! Did you see that?
Well, yeah, you've pissed
him right off now.
We can't wait for Paul.
You've been stalling anyway.
Paul could be months.
We start in a fucking week.
This is what we've been working towards.
It's our fucking time!
What's the matter with you?
I've been sitting here an hour now,
with no visitor.
You're making me look like a fucking mick!
What the fuck is that you're in?
- A coat.
- Yeah, I know it's a coat.
It's my fucking coat.
Borrowed it.
Have you?
Well, you look after it.
Genuine Italian is that.
How's that mate of yours, anyway?
- What's that supposed to be?
- Terror-wrist.
Terrorist. It's a fucking joke.
Fucking hell...
- What are you "fucking hell" for?
- I shouldn't have to explain it, should I?
Cheer up, will you?
Lt should be me that's pissed off, not you.
I hope you haven't been
getting in any trouble.
I can't help you in here, can I?
Where you been?
Just met with that sailor kid.
I bought everything he had for a fiver.
I'm probably going to
sell most of it, though.
You know what?
Take a couple.
Sell them and put them towards
your money for America.
- You sure, eh?
- Yeah, I'm nearly there now.
Thanks, pal.
Fucking hell.
How much have you got saved?
I don't know, it'll help, though.
- Matt, come here!
- Fucking cover-up!
You got it, John! What's it called?
It's The Salvadors and Stick By Me, Baby
We've got it!
Yes, we've got it.
We got the fucking cover-up!
Ray Henderson!
- We've caught you!
- We fucking got it!
Fucking hell!
Roll up, come on. Polish Club!
Next Friday, ninth of October.
Ray Henderson's cover-up will be revealed.
Go on. In you get.
Doubles for you, sweetheart.
Fucking hell, Ange.
You're dropping them.
It's not my fault!
Shit! Just fucking pick them up,
put your hand out...
Come on out, this is the management!
- Shit!
- Shit.
Shit, fucking hell!
I knew this would happen.
How about a couple of them for me?
Oh, you fucking dick!
I'll deal with you in a minute.
Angie, listen, I need to speak to you.
- You know my mate, John?
- Yeah.
- He's got a bit of a soft spot for you.
- Oh, Angie!
Hey, shut up, you.
This is serious.
He can't even dance when you're around.
Ever since you and that ugly bastard split,
he's been trying to work up
the courage up to talk to you.
Well, that "ugly bastard" and me
are still good friends,
so you better watch your mouth.
Yeah, you better watch
your fucking mouth, curly top!
Lanky twat!
Your mate's quite cute
and he's an all right dancer.
But there's something
not quite right about him.
- Well, what's that, then?
- I know what it is.
It's you. It's the fact that
you hang around with him.
- You're right, that's exactly what it is.
- Have a shit!
You'll never guess.
The girls are coming back to our house
for a party after.
- What, Angela?
- Yeah.
You winding me up?
No, I'm not.
He's here, by the door.
Put it on now!
Listen, bastards,
we're gonna play a record you've all heard
Ray Henderson play before,
and so far there's only one copy.
By next week, every fucker
will be chasing a copy!
So stay on the floor, bog trotters,
or fuck off home now!
- - This is a record
on Wise World and it's by...
Come on!
Wait for it...
It's by...
The Salvadors and Stick By Me, Baby.
We're on fucking fire, us!
He's leaving.
Hey, Ray!
Hi. I'm John.
Thanks for coming down.
Hey up, you.
You got me. Well done.
So where did you find it?
Lt was an accident. Lt was just a job lot.
An accident?
I've seen you knocking about,
selling your stuff.
You obviously know your audience.
Nowt compared to you.
I don't suppose there's a chance of getting
a spot at your do, is there?
You cheeky, young fucker.
You've not been DJ-ing more than
two minutes.
Fuck off!
- We could do you a tape.
- Who's "we"?
Me and Matt, we double up.
This is
Billy Butler and The Right Track.
So stay on the floor, bastards!
He's great! He gets the floor going.
All that heckling
and swearing on the mic.
Who's he think he is?
Bernard fucking Manning?
If I were you, mate, I'd lose him.
I'll tell you what, John.
I'll see about letting you do
the first half hour next week.
And I don't want any of
that shit on the mic.
We'll take it from there.
The warm-up?
That would be great.
- See you later, then.
- Thanks!
I'm trying to get my hands
on some gear...
- You what?
- You got pills, haven't you?
I spoke to Ray. He's giving me the warm-up!
No, mate, can't help you.
There was a tall lad
out there with curly hair.
He said you have bombers,
I could do with some.
You know anyone selling, do you?
- No, not in here.
- Well, lad...
If you do know anyone, do let me know.
No problem. What's your name, mate?
Uh, Ben.
All right, Ben.
That's squad.
Plain clothes?
It's the first fucking night.
I've just had him in here
with Mr Lancashire Rose.
It's that daft twat,
he's told everyone in fucking Manchester.
He might as well announce it
on the bastard mic.
Hey, Sean says last record.
We can play at least three more.
Hey, come on, don't piss him off.
All right, whatever he says!
We're leaving you
with Frankie Valli's The Night,
but we don't want it to be the last record,
and neither do you.
So we're carrying on at 12 Alfred Street!
Run back to our house.
Don't fucking announce your address
on the mic.
The filth are going to be crawling
all over you from now on!
It's too late now, pal!
Is he paranoid or what?
He might have a point.
Don't talk shit.
John! Sorry, mate.
The girls are in the kitchen on their own.
Oh, God.
Get in there.
Get off those undies!
You touch my undies again,
I'll sort you right out.
I'll touch your undies whenever I like.
Will you?
All right. You, out!
Come on, trouble, you're helping me DJ.
Did you plan that?
No, it was him. He's just...
He's daft, isn't he?
- Come here.
- What?
Come here. I want you to look at me.
Betty reckons you fancy me.
How does she know that?
Why do you keep winking at me, then?
I've just had something in my eye
all night, that's all.
All right, I might like you a bit.
You hardly know me.
I don't know any girls like you.
Oh, what, black?
No, neither do I.
What, you don't know any lads like me?
No, you twit.
I don't know anyone black.
Well, apart from a few faces
here and there in the crowd.
Are you adopted?
No, my dad's American,
he went back before I were born.
American? I'm going to America soon.
Maybe you could go get him
and bring him back.
He's living in Chicago now.
Came over in the forces, they fell in...
Well, lust,
had me, then he buggered off and left.
I don't know why anyone
would want to leave you?
Oh, I don't know,
maybe because my mum can be a bit of a cow.
What's your favourite record?
All right, Matt, you gonna get
coupled with that, are you?
- Is Angela in here?
- No.
Get out my house!
- Oi, Angela!
- What the fuck are you doing here?
- She's with him now.
- Move out the fucking way!
She doesn't even want you.
Stop it. Stop it! Leave him alone.
Jesus fucking Christ!
- Fucking div.
- What are you doing?
- I'll fucking do you, dickhead!
- Get out!
Fuck off!
- John! John!
- Jesus!
There's someone trying to break in.
There's someone's trying to break in.
It's me, you fucking simpletons.
I'm checking for the escape routes.
- What the fuck is he on?
- If anyone comes,
we get out through the roof.
I've been in a fucking shed all night.
The squad's watching my place.
They're closing in on everyone.
Fucking bastards!
I need to stay here for a while.
Hey, there's a strange-looking car
outside the house.
It's mine, I borrowed it.
Look, I'm fucking shattered.
I'm going to bed.
Yeah, me, too.
Do you need anything?
No, mate, cheers.
You go to bed.
Are you all right?
Frank's dead!
The police ambushed us last night.
Got me, Phil and Frank
trapped in the front room.
Smashed the windows.
Came through, dogs and all.
Frank's been fucked in the head a while,
he'd just jacked up, grabbed the gun,
and shot himself in the mouth,
like they do in the films.
While the Old Bill were panicking,
I managed to get out.
Oh, my God...
Don't tell him.
And don't tell anyone I'm here.
No, you're safe.
How long till this trip
to the States, then?
A couple of months.
I'm just waiting for him.
I need a few months.
Well, how short are you?
I want to go travel agents this week.
Can't you wait?
Well, how long do you need?
If you are in that much of a fucking hurry,
go on your own.
I knew it! You've saved fuck all.
It's all right, I'll go on my own.
I'll come with you.
I'm gonna off-load the big stuff in the
next week and get the fuck out of here
before the squad get me.
- Yeah?
- Yes, mate.
Marvin Gaye?
Yeah, I got it off that sailor kid.
You've had some fucking gear.
How else am I gonna have a good time?
Look at these fucking lumps, not one
of them can dance to save their lives.
For fuck's sake!
Look at him!
He's having a fucking go!
Bollocks to them, they're not worthy!
Where's your rhythm?
What are you doing? An Irish fucking jig?
I'll leave you with my mate here
to play you the kind of stuff you like.
Tried and tested crap.
Fuck off!
What're you thinking bringing him on, eh?
What did I tell you, lad?
I don't want any of that shit on the mic!
This is your break. You asked me
for a break. I'm giving it to you.
You've got one shot, lad.
What's going on, boy?
- I haven't...
- What he saying?
- You're off.
- We're a partnership.
Tell him.
Listen, you!
This is Northern Soul,
not Northern Arsehole!
John, you've got ten minutes to fix it.
And you, you've got ten seconds
to leave this building.
You gonna let him speak to us like that?
I'm the one that plays
tried and tested crap, remember.
You played Marvin fucking Gaye!
Who fucking cares?
They loved it
and they've never fucking heard it before.
Them? They know fuck all.
I don't know whether you've noticed,
but we're fucking playing for them!
We're not playing for you!
You'll never get anywhere crowd-pleasing,
you dickhead.
- What's he playing at?
- I don't know.
Fucking hell.
What a mess.
Sorry, mate, missed it.
Had to sit here for a bit.
Clear my head.
- Hey.
- Hey.
Yeah, I know the whole
thing were a disaster.
No, I was just gonna say
I thought you were all right.
I was surprised.
- Really?
- Hmm.
I'm just going to go see Ray.
Get in there.
Oi, where do you think you're going?
Hi, I'm Matt.
Used to be your partner.
Yeah, used to be.
You got one big record
that someone else discovered.
You think you can get me out now?
At least I've got one!
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
You're a shit DJ.
You've got a load of shit records!
Even if you did have a good one,
you wouldn't fucking know it!
Fucking wanker!
See that skinny twat, get him out of there!
- Come on, posh twat!
- Hey!
- You're nothing without me, John!
- Come on.
- Fuck off!
- You're a fucking asshole!
- Come on, John!
- Fucking asshole.
If I see you fucking again,
I'll break your fucking legs.
Now, fuck off!
Look at the state of that lot.
I'm worried about the rest of my records.
Gonna try and get back before him
and grab them.
Good plan. Come on.
Let's get the fuck out of here.
There's someone in there.
That's them! Come on, get after them!
If they find this lot,
we'll both get ten years!
A gun! What the fuck!
Go on, get out! Just lie
low for a few days.
Just come with me, just leave it all here.
Leave everything.
No, mate, I wanna make
some money on this lot.
We'll be in the States before you know it.
- Are you sure?
- Yes, mate, now go while you can!
Fuck. Fucking drive!
Come on, move it!
I fucking knew it.
Jesus, Sean...
Oh, Sean...
Come on.
Sean, come on!
Get up!
Sean. No, please...
Please don't die.
Please don't die.
Are you all right, mate?
Where you going? Oi!
You're still in shock, youth.
Get that down your neck.
You all right, John?
I didn't see you over there.
This is horrible, isn't it?
I'll have a rum and pep.
A pint of bitter.
Here's your rum and pep.
I'll get these.
And there's your pint of bitter.
Is that it? A quid?
What do you want?
You know, it wasn't paranoia.
Coppers were all over him, thanks to you.
You just
couldn't stop bragging, could you?
Cos that's what killed him.
Your gob.
That was James Fountain's Seven Day Lover.
And as we lost our close friend,
this was Sean's favourite record.
Luther Ingram Orchestra and Exus Trek.
There he is. You all right, Matt?
You all right, mate?
Do you want a lift somewhere?
Come on.
This is gonna be a great night, boys!
I want you to come back with me.
I'll just take you back, then, shall I?
- If you want...
- Yeah.
Are you all right?
Hey, wake up, gorgeous.
You all right?
I was dreaming that you
were still kissing me.
Lt was really nice.
- What?
- What?
Your hair smells, what is it?
It's nit shampoo.
I've been staying at Stee's.
His whole family got head lice.
- Fucking hundreds of them.
- Oh.
God, you scumball, get away.
- A few nits.
- No!
Get off!
Get off me.
You knobhead, get away.
Yeah, come in.
Come on.
I saw Matt yesterday
He started a new job working on roads.
You and him were best mates.
And when things were good,
you were dynamite together.
You should get him to go America with you.
Lt was always the plan, wasn't it?
Just smelling your hair.
See if it still smelt of that nit shampoo.
Hey, Matt.
I'm busy.
I need to talk to you.
Fuck off.
What a bastard night!
Lad, am I boring you again?
You've gone back to sleep?
No, Daz. It's not you, lad.
Faster! Step on it.
- Just fucking step on it!
- What the fuck's got into you, lad?
Well, what you looking at there, mate?
You're bananas!
My own fucking terrorist bastard!
Selfish bastard!
Oh, I can't believe it!
You're freaking me out, mate.
Come on, now, calm down.
There he is!
Just drop me here.
Bloody hell, what's Charlie gonna say?
I'm sorry, pal.
- There you go, lad.
- Sorry, Daz.
Do you know what you're doing, lad?
Bit risky in daylight.
Still a fucking terrorist, then?
Could have picked a less
slushy record, couldn't you?
Thought the lyrics might
tempt you out of this shithole.
I was just getting used to it.
I got a new record,
if you wanna come check it out.
Come on, then.
What is it?
You have to wait and see, won't you?
Cheeky bastard.
You trying to do cover-ups on me?
I might be.
It's gotta be shit, then, if you
discovered it.