We were walking through Nottingham, en route to the worst sandwiches in the world. Seriously. They were fucking awful. So bad we took photos.
Anyhoo, it was a quiet Sunday morning and the streets in the town centre were strewn with the detritus of a great night out.
We heard some noise, so were naturally drawn to it. Turned out it was a street preacher. Young, well-dressed and very intense, shouting to the indifferent emptiness. We sat down nearby and perched our little camera surreptitiously in order to record him. Thought it might be useful. Seems it was.
The phrases you hear him use weren't edited to tighten up his timing. He was actually that good.
I'd not mind finding out who he was and saying thanks.
from The End Of Affection
released September 16, 2015
Phil Reynolds did the stuff in a bedroom, except for the shouty bloke. That was some bloke what did that. In a city centre. Much bigger.
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