It was during the 1960s, a defining moment in the history of music, culture, love and lust, that Phil met Alice. They were young and beautiful, filled with the spirit of rebellion and a lust for life. What’s more, they were into the same kind of music. It was at a Jimi Hendrix concert that they first noticed each other. The irresistible Alice approached him with the words ‘Wanna dance?’ They danced together; at first in a light-hearted ‘just for a laugh’ kind of manner, but soon it began to get smoochy. After the concert, the pair went back to Alice’s flat. This was to happen many times thereafter, and they quickly became an item. They decided to have a child. In 1966, Robert was born.

During his early adolescence, Robert began to become captivated with the heavy-metal scene. One day, on the way back home from school, he bought a Judas Priest record in the shop in town. His heart beating with excitement (as it always did when he bought a new record), he went straight to his bedroom and placed the record on. He went wild to it. He had only recently picked up a guitar and attempted to learn it but it was now he knew he had to make his mark on the world and be a rock star. He began to practise his guitar every day after school and took lessons every week. He set up a band with the rebels at school.  Paul was a reasonable singer, Jim knew how to play bass, and although they were short of a drummer, they soon got one in through an advert in the record shop. Initially, they played at local youth centres then they played pubs as well. They were let in with no problems once they were 16. Sometimes they even got a beer or three in the more corrupt pubs that were desperate to make money.

By the time he was 17, Robert was truly a master of the guitar. It was around this time that the New Wave of British Heavy Metal was a national obsession for devotees of rock music. Robert wanted to be part of it. He knew his band was destined to be famous. Although Paul and Jim dropped out to go to university (at least, that’s what they said. If they really wanted to be in the band, uni would be no excuse), Robert soon got some new people by advertising through a guitar magazine. After winning the ‘Battle of the Bands’ competition for Robert’s local area and getting critical acclaim from a few national music magazines, it seemed high time to get the band on the international stage. Initially on their own label, Robert’s band finally got a contract with a major label and toured the U.S.A. in 1986. It was after a gig in Los Angeles that Robert met Frank.

Frank originally lived in New York but encouraged by good job prospects, moved to California. It was here that he enjoyed many years of economic prosperity. This basically meant having an expensive car, a mansion with a swimming pool, a private bar, and not much time. Above all though, he was concerned about the state of the world: he could not figure out why wars were happening. Frank had taken a liberal view of politics in his younger days, and believed that a liberal state was the best thing to prevent war, but later on in life became convinced that it was the state that fuelled war, and the desire for it. Thus, he began to adopt anarchist views. At first, he had taken an honest and serious approach, and took seriously the idea that there could be an alternative to the state (this would dissolve the patriotism that fuelled hate for others), and that it could create a society that could meet the needs of all people without any fighting over resources. Later on, with economic ‘success’, Frank became slightly corrupt. He began to adopt egoism as his philosophy: he reasoned that it is in our best interests to do what is right for us, and that there is no point in thinking about the effects this could have on other people. He would nick money if he could get away with it. And if he couldn’t nick it he would coax people to give it to him. He set up fake charities to get people to donate money… to him. Nobody knew about it. And he didn’t mind upsetting people. He once set fire to his boss’s office, just for a laugh (though, obviously his boss was a target because he wouldn’t give Frank a pay rise). The fact that it got in the paper gave him a huge sense of self-satisfaction. However, his egoism did mean that he never got taken advantage of: he knew when people were trying to set him up, and he never let them exploit or hurt him.

While Robert was making inroads in the world of music, Gareth was just starting secondary school. Managing to just about survive the ups and downs of the school system, he then went on to college, where he took A-levels in Sociology, Media Studies and ICT. Media Studies was, on the whole, the most interesting subject to him, and he considered leaving college to work in the media, but decided he’d better do Media Studies at university first. This was about 40% of the decision of course. The other 60% was about having a good excuse to get pissed, get laid and have wild parties. University in fact turned out to be a humdrum experience for Gareth and many others but he got through it. With a 2:1 degree, not to mention natural talent in journalism, he felt that he had good prospects in the world of media. After months of drifting about and not doing much, he finally got a job he liked doing: he was to write for a celebrity magazine. He was excited by the prospect of doing something he was good at and really wanted to do; he might even get to interview (maybe even sleep with) a few of his favourite pop stars. Eventually, of course, he wanted to be a pop star himself. He wanted to make lots of money, be on television and cause the heartbeats of thousands of teenyboppers to rise every time they saw him. Then maybe he might run a chat show and ask other celebrities lots of ridiculous questions. It all seemed like he would have a hedonistic life.

Or so he thought. He got sacked from the magazine for being too lazy when his work turned out to be boring; just making up rumours about celebrities. That wasn’t enough! Where was all the wealth and fame that he craved? Gareth spent a few months on the dole, and couldn’t seem to get an interesting job, but eventually settled for a job working at a bar to bring the money in. He supposed he would just have to lump it for a while; he knew he had the ambition and that would get him where he wanted. The company at the bar was good; fun-loving young single lads and ladettes who were always up for a party. They went out drinking on Saturday night, starting with the cheap bars, then moving onto the clubs. They tried to keep their drinking down at the start of the evening so they wouldn’t have a problem being let into the clubs but quickly made up for it once they were in there. They needed that Dutch courage to get on the dance floor after all. The music would normally be cheese; the more shallow people in the group loved having a chance to make themselves look silly, but the ones who had a slightly more in-depth interest in things quickly got pissed off with it. They soon banded together and made their excuses when invited out on Saturday night, so that they could go to the cinema or go to a real pub (as they called it) and talk about things. Many of these people began to drift off into relationships, much to the amusement of the rest of the group.  Then there were the people who went to the clubs looking for a shag. Gareth was one of these people. He could never easily talk to a girl while sober. Besides, that was for people who wanted serious relationships anyway. He was young; all that relationship stuff was for old people. He would get on the dance floor as soon as he was drunk enough to have the courage to do it and would try and find a lady to dance with. Once he saw one that seemed fit and not taken, he’d launch into the chat-up lines: ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’ was his favourite one. This seemed to be the only one that didn’t warrant a slap but usually he got laughed at. Occasionally, he would get lucky, but the large amounts of alcohol he consumed would render him impotent and make him forget most of the night. When he woke up on Sunday morning, his bed was usually empty. Jacking off to his Playboy magazines cheered him up, but he was beginning to wonder why he was so useless.

‘Ah! The joy that is pleasure! I live for pleasure and nothing else. The trouble is pleasure benefits no-one but me. But what has anyone ever done for me?’ Frank said to himself. He had a bottle of vodka by his side, which he drunk rapidly.

He realised his whole life had been one long struggle. He had always been an outcast. The others seemed to make friends easily, fit in easily, and trust each other easily. He realised the lack of trust was a big reason why he was so selfish. To him, other people were threatening, overbearing, untrustworthy and irritating. He only wanted to bother with others because, in a way, he needed them.

He had also had a very materialistic ethic instilled in him by his parents. ‘You must follow the American Dream.’ he had been told. The option of not following the American Dream was not even acknowledged in the household. Why would anyone want to be poor and trapped and, above all, living with people they don’t trust?

And to be honest his parents did seem more honourable, loving and honest than others. So their logic seemed convincing to him.

He saw things going wrong with his peers. They had lots of mates but they didn’t seem happy. They seemed scared of being alone, and they seemed insecure. They talked behind each others backs about each other. And what they said wasn’t that positive. They didn’t really seem to like each other.

Reading about all the murders and stuff like that confirmed his suspicions. He noticed that a lot of these didn’t happen between strangers. There was always an element of deception in them. Someone pretends to be your loyal, loving, lovely spouse or friend, the next thing they hack you into pieces. Is that worth it?

Infidelity bothered him as well. If people love each other why oh why do they need to cheat? Frank wasn’t having any of it. He didn’t want to get fucked over like other people. He wanted to be strong and not believe lies. He cut down on drinking before finally going teetotal in 1980, gave up smoking, gave up drugs, and became obsessed with self-defence. This wasn’t just about learning how to fight and all that bullshit, this was about adopting a whole mindset. A mindset that says ‘No!’ to people who try to set you up. A mindset of constant awareness, both of the self and its surroundings.

The lack of pleasure got to him, so he got back into drinking in 1983 but he managed to stay away from smoking and drugs were a hassle anyway. At this time, he was getting very wound up. People were very ready to put him down and tell him he couldn’t do this and couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be so irksome if he could agree with it, but it all seemed so unfair. So drinking helped him with his moods as well.

He decided he just really wanted to escape from ‘normal’ people. ‘What is the point of putting up with their bullshit?’ he thought. He started to withdraw more and more. He would still go to the after-work socials in the pub with his colleagues (he didn’t call anyone a friend) but he refused to let anyone pull strings. He lived on his own, which was very much his personal choice. There were plenty of girls who seemed to be interested in him, but he didn’t really believe them. ‘Bah! It’s only ‘cos they’ve had a few too many.’ he would think to himself. In absolute honesty, he didn’t have a proper love life. He wanted to avoid visiting prostitutes. That would make him feel even worse, he reckoned.

He was getting so that he didn’t just want to pull. He was starting to want to have someone who would communicate with him, support him, cherish him, understand him, love him. This did, however, seem like a far-fetched idea in the shallow world he belonged to.

At least he was accomplishing the American Dream. The main thing he wanted in life was to have it all, materially. ‘Cos if you’ve got all that money and a mansion to yourself, who’s there to control you? And he enjoyed it anyway. He loved stuff as much as he hated people. Eventually, he became director of the oil company he worked for. He wasn’t bothered about telling people what to do, in fact he hated all that, but he buzz of making important business decisions and having money and mansions and technology… that was euphoria! It would have driven him mad if he hadn’t made it in the world of business, to him it was practically life itself, but fortunately for him this was never an issue.

On hearing rumours that Traci Lords was being forced into the films she acted in, he burnt every Traci videotape he had, and then he cried. He thought ‘I’ve been lied to all along.’

He started to take more notice of the lying. People not saying what they mean. Trying to take tactical advantage. Trying to keep their so-called jobs. Trying to rule their world. And he started to feel fed up.

But that wasn’t all. There was an event in his life that truly changed him. It was a gig in Los Angeles in 1986, where he met a musician known as Robert.

Gareth’s local started having a pub quiz on Wednesday night. He was free that night and decided he’d wander in. Many of his mates were either getting boring and wanted to stay at home or couldn’t be bothered, but he convinced a few of them to come on the premise that ‘you never know, we might win something.’ They registered their team and got going. It was a general knowledge quiz but not one about the things they knew about. At the end of the first two rounds, they had got only a few questions right (Tim was the best contestant by miles. He seemed to know a lot of things the others had never even heard of).  During the interval, a guy wearing a suit walked in. He ordered a drink, and then he surveyed the pub. He approached the group and asked if he could join them.

‘Well, if you can help us out of this mess, then sure you can.’ replied Tim

‘You can sit next to me if you like.’ said Ashleigh, who obviously fancied the guy

He sat down and put his drink on the table. Then he introduced himself to the group. His name was Chris, and it seemed like he was employed in some kind of financial job. He seemed like an amicable kind of guy.

‘Who are you here with?’ asked Gareth

‘No-one to be honest. There aren’t many people around in my town, but I thought I’d wander up here anyway.’ Chris replied.

‘Looking for a lady tonight then?’ Tim enquired, with a saucy wink.

‘Depends if I can get one!’ laughed Chris, ‘But really I just like going to pubs. Sometimes I just like meeting different people and the pub’s an interesting experience.’

‘Sure is!’ exclaimed Gareth. ‘We can tell you about that.’

The third round started. It was entirely devoted to sport. This was the one area that Tim seemed to know nothing about. However, Gareth was able to answer most of the questions and Ashleigh and Chris had a fair amount of input as well. By the end of the third round, the team was now in third place, with two points behind them and the second-placed team.

Chris ordered everyone a round of drinks. He recommended a few real ales that no one in the group had heard of. Tim decided to try it, but the rest of the group opted to stick to the fizzy lager that they always had. Tim and Ashleigh began to chat to each other about furniture. That was a popular topic amongst many of Gareth’s friends. Probably something to do with the fact that they were getting sad. Bored, Gareth decided he needed someone to bombard with talk about celebrities. He talked to Chris about his dreams of achieving money and fame as a pop star and subsequently a chat-show host. Chris seemed incredibly bored, and the others could sense it. Gareth then started going on about all the latest celebrity news. The latest thing that had happened was that some pop diva had got a new hairstyle that was going down a storm with all the male and lesbian followers of pop culture. Chris’s eyes glazed over. He interrupted Gareth.

‘Look Gareth, I’m sorry to say this, but I don’t find that kind of thing very interesting.’ he said.

‘How can you be bored by that?!’ asked (and exclaimed) Gareth, in astonishment.

‘I don’t know, it’s just not very important’

‘Not important! It’s my life!’

‘I think that could be the problem, Gareth.’

‘How?!’

‘I think all this celebrity stuff is a way of keeping everyone in the dark about what’s really affecting them. If people simply talk about which celebrity is doing what then those in charge can continue to exploit them. I don’t necessarily mean politicians. I mean people who call the shots: who decides what gets published, and read, and bought and sold, and talked about, etc. Society in general in fact. It seems much like a conspiracy, even if it’s not intentional.’

‘That’s what you think! Celebrity is a way to make it big these days. I tell you, by the time I’m 30 I’ll be retiring with millions in the bank and a massive villa in Spain. You’ll be stuck doing your boring finance work. Who’s better off?’

Ashleigh was starting to see where the conversation was going. ‘Shut up, Gareth! That’s not the point,’ she interjected, ‘the point is that people like you aren’t paying enough attention to the wider, more important issues in life.’

‘What could be more important than the cool life I’m going to have?!’

Tim had his input ‘Gareth, he’s got a point. I know he’s being a bit serious but what he’s saying is that if you only ever pay attention to what celebs are doing, those in power are going to exploit the fact that you won’t know anything about how they work. I sometimes want to be a celebrity too, but what if it doesn’t work out? What if I don’t make it in the first place?’

‘Well, you’ll just have to work in the bar for the rest of your life, won’t you!’ laughed Gareth. ‘Come on Chris, mate, lighten up a bit. You’re being too bloody serious. And to help you I’m buying everyone a round!’

After that it was all forgotten. At the end of the quiz the team finished in fourth place. They had made a good effort and enjoyed it. They decided they’d probably go again. Chris recommended another quiz down the Red Lion on Sunday night, which was a free day for everybody, so they decided they’d probably make it down. Chris gave everyone his business contact card then parted company with them.

It was the summer of 1986, a time when the New Wave of British Heavy Metal was expanding to America. As part of the tour of the U.S.A that year Robotic Rage, the band Robert played guitar for at the time, headlined the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles. Frank had heard about the gig and decided to turn up. He had an interest in all types of music and wanted to find out what this heavy-metal craze was all about. As he entered and looked round the place, he was snarled at for being a ‘yuppie’ (he had decided to wear a suit) but did not let this deter him.

The band played four of the songs from their upcoming album ‘To Hell with Cheese’ and five of their classic songs. After the gig they decided to stay to watch the other bands.

Frank was on his own, but he wasn’t a loner. And it made a lot of sense to talk to the band, whose music he digged. Robert was within metres of him, so he approached and said ‘Well played!’

‘Cheers, dude. Where you from?’

‘I live in LA. I’ve come here to check out this heavy-metal craze. Your stuff was awesome!’

The conversation went on from there. They didn’t have Myspace in those days, but word of mouth has always been around. Frank got to know when Robotic Rage were playing, and where heavy-metal bands played. And he loved it. He got down to a gig whenever he could, and after getting to know a few bands, decided that the music business was for him. He wanted to combine business with pleasure, but the main thing that was happening is that he was starting to take an interest in other people (something which had never been the case before). Everyone seemed so friendly (the people who snarled at him turned out to be few and far between), they enjoyed what they did, and above all he trusted them (the most important thing of all). A big part of the reason why Frank had adopted the philosophy of egoism was to do with lack of social trust. People had seemed alien and threatening to him, and this was now no longer the case.

He created his own record label, Avazio Records, and at first signed up heavy-metal bands then grunge bands as well. His first business action was, of course, to sign up Robotic Rage in 1988. The business was successful and people enjoyed working for it. The most important thing to Frank, however, was that his life in general had changed.

Life went on at Gareth’s local. Mary, the manager of the pub, was pleased with the revenue the new pub quiz was bringing in. She considered the creation of a tournament for the area. Not only would that be a real money-spinner; it would improve the nightlife in the area, which seemed somewhat lacking. She was more concerned about the aesthetic side of life than the financial side, although she accepted that money was necessary to maintain her lifestyle. She was getting bored of the area, because there seemed to be so little to do. This seemed especially apparent after a holiday in Rome earlier in the year. The culture of the area revolved mainly round money. Those who had money were conceited and those that didn’t were resentful. This resulted in an unpleasant atmosphere, at least in the towns. The villages were friendlier, but they tended to be boring. At weekends, the kids stole cars and drove them around, because they were so bored. No accidents had happened yet, but only time could tell. There was also a hell of a lot of drugs. If you wanted to get high at the weekend, the villages were the ideal place to head off to. Some of her friends, who lived there, said whenever they went to the local pub on Friday night they would barely be out of their front doors by the time someone was trying to sell them a pill. Some of them had initially decided to just buy what the dealers were selling them, because it was, after all, a cheaper night out than the pub. However, they soon got tired of the fact that it always seemed to turn out to be aspirin. The more adventurous (or, as a cynic might say, bored) ones got friendly with the more streetwise of young people and asked them where they could get real drugs.

They were soon in the habit of getting high every weekend, and living like the young people. Mary thought they were fuck-ups, though they claimed that it’s alcohol that fucks you up more. Mary agreed that alcohol taken in excess can damage your liver and cause many other health problems but that was only if you became a real alcoholic and then you could get help. At least it was legal. She didn’t want anything to do with E. She wasn’t some moralistic goody-goody though, and she let her friends get on with it. She didn’t miss her youth: the anxiety about whether she would be accepted by her peers, whether she was immature or (on the opposite scale of the equation) acting old, whether she was doing what she should.

True, she had new anxieties about earning a living and all those responsibilities but she felt, on the whole, a lot freer. Anybody who went ‘I wish I were young again’ had forgotten. She hadn’t forgotten, which was part of the reason why she was good at relating to young people. Indeed, she harboured a deep fondness for the young. She just didn’t miss the struggle to be ‘cool’. It was all such a hassle; in the end, she had decided just to be herself. And from then on, life got easier and she found true friendship.

On Thursday, Chris got a call from Robert. Robert was going to be in the area next week and decided he would pay his old friends a visit while he was about it. Chris agreed he would meet Robert in a café after work.

Chris had had a love of the rock scene since childhood. In his youth, he would always be going down to local gigs and regularly went up to London to see major bands play. He had initially been a fan of metal bands such as Alice Cooper and Kiss, but begun to get a bit bored of metal and turned his attention to punk, which was getting a lot of attention during his teenage years. Seeing the Clash play in 1977 really defined his identity: all that glam-metal stuff had just been a phase. That had blinded him to what was really going on in this harsh world: now he was determined to change a world where the rich got richer and the poor got poorer. He was an all-out punk rocker, and he knew it. He had the attitude: he was angry at authority and he wanted to show it. People were always telling him what to do, and trying to crack down on him, and for what? He didn’t mean them any harm; he just didn’t want to be made to fit a system that he felt wasn’t about people like him. All those fat-cat directors who the system seemed to favour were only interested in themselves; they didn’t give a shit about the people who had to fight just to make ends meet. He was different; he cared.

At first he was reckless and got into a lot of trouble with the police because of abusive behaviour. Later on, he realised that violence was going to get him nowhere; it would simply give people the wrong impression about who he was. He decided that the best way to deal with the system is to change it, and to do that effectively, you need to become part of it. After a few years of political campaigning he began to feel he simply wasn’t cut out to change things; he decided to simply work in the finance sector, as he was good with numbers. He landed a job as a cashier for a prominent bank in 1987. He enjoyed his job, and to his surprise, found it didn’t compromise his political values like he thought it would. He saw injustice in the system, but felt that being a cog in the machine was perhaps not such a bad thing after all, and there was no need to exploit anybody. He could relate to those deemed as his sub-ordinates on a human level. Besides, someone had to work for banks. Virtually everyone has a bank account.

He maintained his interest in the world of rock music but now it was more about the sound that he loved rather than the politics. You could like rock music without being a rebel. He hadn’t lost popularity with his punk mates: they were getting ‘old’ anyway, and felt alienated by the kids who were taking over the scene. This didn’t stop them checking out the scene from time to time: they read the magazines and went to gigs. Eventually, they decided to set up a network for the ‘older’ rock fan to find like-minded people. It originally operated on a local basis but they started advertising in newspapers in nearby areas and found that more people were interested than they thought. The idea that this kind of music was a teenage experience was obviously open to interpretation. It was through this network that Chris met Robert, in 1992. Over the years they were to become close friends.