The Justified Ancients of Mu Mu - It's Grim Up North.
Having stepped from the wreckage of their 1968 Ford Galaxy American police car Rockman Rock and Kingboy D (The Justified Ancients of Mu Mu) found their ice cream van. Heading East up over the Pennine-straddling M62 they pull their ice cream van onto the hard shoulder. Behind them to the West they can still make out the sprawling conurbation of Greater Manchester and those surrounding Lancashire towns, proud in their decline. Further West, somewhere beyond where Liverpool used to be, a dirty sunset sinks into the Irish Sea. To the East the sky is already dark, the Yorkshire towns seeking solace in their Pennine valleys. But up here on this unhealing gash across the backbone of England the immediate landscape is a desolate moorland, with none of the grandeur of the Highlands or the classic English beauty of the lakes. Three bedraggled sheep huddle for shelter in a ditch. The drizzle toughens, then climbs to a solid rain. Heavy goods vehicles plough by, tachographs on overload. A leaded grime smears the verges, sodden Silk Cut packets wonder whether they are biodegrading. A crow flies North. Through the downpour and diesel roar, Rockman Rock and Kingboy D can feel a regular dull thud. Whether this is the eternal echo of a Victorian steam driven revolution, or the turbo driven kick of a distant northern rave is irrelevant. Thus inspired, the Justified Ancients of Mu Mu climb into the back of their ice cream van and work. November 1990.