Lager Time

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

Hope all is well out there in Lager Land.

This week I chat about England at the World Cup (and having a bit of football fatigue) and the problem with having lots of ideas which don’t get seen through, then three poems from my first book of poems – The Suburban, in preparation for recording the audio book for it.

Poems below for those on the Substack – cree.substack.com for those that aren’t

Don’t forget – The Dream Arts REP showWHAT WE DO WHEN WE CAN’T DANCE – is at the Lichfield Garrick Tues 7th July, 6PM

My first book of poems - The Suburban is still available, links below

Buy From Me Direct // Waterstones // Amazon

MORE 64s of BOREDOM – My 5 track rap EP

BANDCAMP / SPOTIFY / APPLE / QOBUZ / AMAZON / YOUTUBE

Nice one

Having a banging weekend

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

This week, it’s a brand new very short story about shame and embarrassment. It came out of an exercise I attempted about trying to personify a few human emotions - in particular, shame and embarrassment.

Story below for those on Substack

Thank you to everyone who wished me well on the last week’s episode 100. I’m still here.

I’ve been editing Way of the Kip, it’s already looking a lot better. As I explain on the podcast, sharing the chapters on here forced me to get to an ending. Now that I have a draft, I can really start to shape it.

The Dream Arts REP show I’ve worked on this year - What We Do What We Can’t Dance - is heading out on tour. First stop is the Lichfield Garrick Theatre on Tuesday 7th July at 6pm

click here for TICKETS

My 5-track rap EP - More 64s of Boredom - is available to stream / download on all platforms

BANDCAMP / SPOTIFTY / APPLE / QOBUZ / AMAZON / YOUTUBE

That’s it for now

Peas and taters

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

This is episode 100 of the Lager Time podcast. Mate, 100. A oner. A ton. A double-bullseye.

Listen. If you’ve ever listened, read, once or twice, or more, subscribed, unsubscribed, shared, thought it was rubbish or thought it was ok; commented, mentioned it to me that you checked it on Spotify; thankyou.

I started this thing back in October 2021. I wasn’t performing much anymore and had a whole bunch of stuff that I didn’t know what to do with. Never felt like it fitted in with what I was doing. In fact, I never felt like I fitted in, me and stuff; anywhere. I also had years of frustrations of having no outlet for most things that I wrote. It was just me and my bedroom.

So after the madness of the pandemic; I’d been messing with music production again and looking into training in voiceover work; which I could do from home. And I was still writing. So with no where to go, a little know-how with the audio; I did this. And somehow, by hook or by crook; I’ve kept it going.

It’s been: inconsistent, scrappy, the audio quality has varied, lazy, experimental, ambitious, surprisingly good, sometimes rubbish, a bit nuts, full of mistakes, embarrassing, anxious, aimless, repetitive, pointless, pointed, jagged, circular; all of those; mate.

The more I think about it, the more it’s quite symbolic of me as a person; flaws and all. And whilst I wish it wasn’t like that, that’s what it is. And I have tried to improve what I do; as futile as that’s sometimes been.

But here it is, mate. 100 episodes. A bunch of poems, stories, thoughts and music. Some of which have gone on to become other things; some just sitting there. But they’re there, they’ve been created. So who knows. It’s bolstered the armoury and as ineffective, quiet and insignificant as bang might be on the weapon; it’s let the world know I’m here, should they casually choose to listen.

Sometimes I see this impulse to create things as a bit of an affliction but I’d lying if I said this is not what I want to do, and that I don’t get excited, anytime a new idea pops up in that busy street market of a head that sits awkwardly on my body. Sometimes I get a bit embarrassed about doing it or feel guilty for doing it, when I could be doing other, more useful things but I can’t switch that impulse off. This is what I do, mate.

So large up to the Lager-Lites, ordinary people and all my fellow writers, rappers, poets, painters, sculptors, beat-makers – what else are we gonna do eh?

Thankyou for inspiring me.

Peas and Taters, Paul

This episode will feature the final chapter of the Way of the Kip story.

If you’re on Substack, see below

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

Welcome to this weeks Lager Time. It’s the penultimate chapter of Way of the Kip. I think I’ve worked out the ending - I’m working out as I go.

Reece gets caught napping and gets called back to the office. This is where it all starts to go a bit pear-shaped….

Story below for those on Substack. Cree.cree.substack.comSubstack.Com for those who aren’t

Don’t forget, my latest rap EP - More 64s of Boredom - is available to stream / download on most major platforms

BANDCAMP

SPOTIFTY

APPLE

https://music.apple.com/gb/album/more-64s-of-boreddom-ep/6772325154

QOBUZ

https://www.qobuz.com/us-en/album/more-64s-of-boreddom-paul-cree/db5vajegkhjwm

AMAZON

https://music.amazon.co.uk/albums/B0H2NL275K

YOUTUBE

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings and welcome

Hope all is well out there.

This week is chapter 5 of Way of the Kip. Chapter below

I was away last week so no podcast.

My latest rap EP - More 64s of Boredom is out for stream / download pretty much everywhere. Links below

Have a great weekend

Paul

BANDCAMP

SPOTIFTY

APPLE

https://music.apple.com/gb/album/more-64s-of-boreddom-ep/6772325154

QOBUZ

https://www.qobuz.com/us-en/album/more-64s-of-boreddom-paul-cree/db5vajegkhjwm

AMAZON

https://music.amazon.co.uk/albums/B0H2NL275K

YOUTUBE

CHAPTER 5 – Way of the Kip

No matter how mellow the alarm sound I selected, it’s like the blower had grown go-go-gadget arms during the night; and with every polyphonic note the phone made, it jabbed at my eardrums with brass knuckles.

Made a blind grab for the phone, grappling for the off-button; dropping the thing on the floor. Quick inhale then swung my legs out the side of the bed, felt the cold on my shins. Slowly sat up, half opened my eyes and stared at my old red football shorts; covering my thighs. The M was missing from the name. U BRO. Another breath then acknowledged the waking pain of the day. Routine, but this one hit harder. The feeling that I’d only just got to sleep five minutes before was normal; this time it came gift-wrapped with something extra that I couldn’t yet identify.

The thread had come loose along the right side of my shorts and the red colour had long since faded; reminding me when my first goldfish (Mgoldrik) slowly stopped being gold and faded out like a photograph, till he got the final flush to the hallowed burial grounds of the New Town sewage treatment.

I’d had those shorts for a good ten years. Well, ten years, don’t know if it was all that good. Ten years back was probably the last time I had a kick-about. I reckoned I could still thread a pass, tho.

The phone bleeted again. Picked it up and switched it off. Next to the blower was the tissue. Of course. I heard a chuckle over my left shoulder; my neck slowly turned towards it.

October’s Frank Lampard was grinning, while making a hand gesture, mimicking the one I would’ve made probably about three hours before. Underneath him sat that sedate sandalwood candle. Sandalwood, the scent of failure.

‘You mug. You think it’s that easy? Pull the other one, son.’

And there it was. The bow on the present. Frank was right. I’d convinced myself just one simple purchase from Tesco was going to solve all my sleep problems. Mug. Why was it always like this anytime I tried to do something to improve my life?

I’d hit sombre season; just didn’t see it coming, I should’ve. The life-cycle of idea, obsession, rushed execution, disappointment, embarrassment, guilt and finally numbness was complete. It was ever thus. Perfected this little routine sometime back in school. A sigh this time. I slowly stood up, closed my eyes, breathed again, opened my eyes; then cracked on to the bathroom.

The walk to Streatham Hill station was slow. I tried to rationalise the whole candle caper; it’s not like I’d done something super-shameful, yet I felt similar to how I would, had I downed six post-work pints on an empty tummy, said some stupid stuff about society then spewed on the train back and woke up in West Norwood. Like the week before. So why was I feeling so low?

Despite the multiple signs and announcements about no bikes in rush-hour, some plank wearing a tool-belt was trying to get on the train with a mountain-bike and arguing with a couple of commuters. It was a packed-platform and the 7:15 was already rammed when it rolled in. I don’t think the geezer was English. Probably Polish but then what did I know; I was probably just a bigot, lacking sleep.

Bike-man gave up eventually and reluctantly battled his way to the back of the platform, muttering some harsh syllables in a language I didn’t understand. A few commuters grumbled then chins went back to sternums, eyes to papers, ears to headphones and no more was said.

Standing room only on the train. I was shunted down to that no-mans land between two seat-backs with nothing to hold onto; just the sandwich of two bods to wobble between. Couldn’t even get my ipod out. Probably a good thing, I would’ve almost certainly drawn for the tear-jerkers.

Once I’d fallen out the train at Victoria and swiped my ticket; I liven-ed up a bit on the bop down Victoria Street. My mind was preparing potential small-talk scenarios about what I did last night. Needed to deflect any genuine curiosity beyond the basics. Nothing much; just a bit of Sky Sports News; what did you do? That was the best I could come up with.

Did the regular eyes-right to Westminster Cathedral and thought of Nan taking me and my sister in there when we were nippers. Much to her disappointment, we’d slipped to the lowest tier of membership in the Catholic club. First Easter got dropped, then even Christmas, now it was attend-mass-only-by-invite; weddings and funerals. The basic package. Still, I always acknowledged its presence on the daily graft-march to purgatory. I liked that it was there. It quietly maintained its magnificence on a suffocatingly dull street full of civil-serving concrete office blocks.

Up ahead I saw Pete going through the glass doors into the office, clutching a copy of the Sun and a Greggs paper bag; most likely containing two steak-bakes. From distance, I could tell he was whistling a tune.

Quick breath, through the doors then fist-bumped Sammy on security then straight into the lift. Thankfully no one from my floor was in there. Doors open and into the open-plan, strip-lit-sweat-pit. Quick breath then ran the gauntlet, arrowing straight to my desk hoping not to catch any eyes of conversation.

‘How was your sleep Reece, did you have sweet dreams?’

Shaz caught me off guard. Almost stopped. Out of some politeness, I turned my torso; it hurt.

‘Erm, yea, it was alright, you?’

‘You know she’s taken don’t you?’

‘Who’s taken?’

‘Bianca’

‘Eh?’

When she said Bianca, she lifted the A and N then pushed down on the C and the A, kissed her teeth and turned back to her desk and her bowl of muesli. It was a shame Shaz was fit because I really disliked her. Clearly the feeling was mutual; certainly, on the dis-liking. She also had a boyfriend, Trey, who looked like he could handle himself, like Dan. Hero.

The last thing I needed now was an office-rumour about me fancying Bianca. Like Shaz, she was also quite attractive just less acerbic and a lot more dim. Why was she telling Shaz about my sleep problems? That was a liberty.

Managed to get through the morning mostly without incident. Priah came and inspected my screen once or twice; but despite being sleep-deprived I was managing to hold my focus and processed a bunch of claims.

About 11 o clock, Priah sent an email round saying Monique from Essential Skills was coming in for part two of the bias training. I raised an eyebrow at this, as I wasn’t aware there was a part 2 and I was beginning to question wether this was an Essential Skill. I was about to compose a witty response to Diane, making sure it wasn’t to Priah this time but then clocked my name wasn’t on the list of attendees. Pete wasn’t on there either. I’d must’ve missed the bit where it said Ladies Night? What the flip was this? A day at the races? Either that or some oiled-up alpha was coming in dressed as a fireman to swing it about, while they all screamed and giggled. Maybe it was Dan and Trey. I could only conclude that birds had more bias to flush out than geezers, and if Shaz’s snidey little remark was anything to go by, my theory was correct.

Came back from lunch and Saw Monique from Essential Skills in the meeting room, setting up the power point. Once the Spice Girls had filed into the glass menagerie I took it as an opportunity and go make a cup of tea.

Pete came into the kitchen, whistling. He had another greasy bag from Greggs containing two sausage rolls.

‘Surprised you’re not in there, mate.’ He said.

‘What, girls-club?’

‘Girls and gays, ‘aint figured which you one you are yet, son’

‘Gay? Who’s gay in there?

‘Pretty sure I saw Keith go in just now.’

‘Boring Keith’s in the training?!’

Sure enough, I stuck my head out, looked across the office floor and in amongst the well-maintained ladies barnets was Boring Keith, with his little glasses, big belly and tiny mouth; holding his pen, tiny little grin on his boat.

‘I didn’t know Kieth was gay? I didn’t think he was capable of human relationships.’

‘What’s the problem, Reecy? You enquiring?’ He chuckled at this, while he got a plate out of the cupboard.

‘Couldn’t care less if he’s gay. He’s still a geezer but he’s in there and we aint.’

‘Dunno why you’re getting stroppy about it Reecey-Boy. You think too much, that’s your problem.’

‘Yea maybe, just think it’s a bit of a double standard.’

‘Moan about it all you like, mate. I’m taking advantage. Got an appointment in trap-2, gonna take my time on this one; had a big ruby last night. Then, I’m gonna sit and do my fantasy team and knock off early. I cleared a load of work this morning so when Priah gets out, I’ll go here look, I was banging-out claims left, right and centre while you lot was in there. That’s how you play it, son.’

Off he went, whistling again, clutching his Gregs bag and a plate, then stopped and turned back round.

‘Oh yea. Friday afters. The George. Be there. Don’t be gay.’

And off he went again. I envied him; I don’t think he was phased by anything. I looked back across to the glass-menagerie. Monique was pointing at a slide, looking very solemn, though I couldn’t tell who was sat where, I could see all eyes were on the screen. It was pure Girl Power. And Kieth.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening!

Yes, More 64s of Boredom is finally out.

It’s up on Bandcamp and it will be out on all the major streaming sights shortley.

It’s been a labour of love and it almost went belly-up this week but I managed to salavge it.

Listen for the full details and hear me play and talk through each track. I had a laugh doing it, hope you do too.

www.paulcree.co.uk

Cheers

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happeining?

In both anticipation of my new rap EP More 64s of Boredom (which is ALMOST finished!) and the dispoaintment of Millwall crashing out of the playoffs; I got the itch to get livley and wrote some new bars.

Lyrics below for those on the Substack (cree.substack.com for those who aren’t)

It’s a sort of remix of the track Side of the House track (off the new EP) hence the re-naming, which I performed on the 12th January episode I think.

Stripped the beat away and re-did the keys and added a couple of bits.

Been busy mxing the EP so I'll have to leave Way of the Kip for a bit but Reece and his sleep issues will return soon, all going well.

Had a few audio issues so the sound ducks in and out a bit, apologies for that.

Don’t forget, the original Raw 64s of Boredom EP and E-Book is £2 on my website, get inolved. When the new one lands, hopefully you’ll notice a bit of improvement in the production. I feel like I’ve come a long way since then.

That’s it for now

Have a banging weekend

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

The podcast this week has chapter 5 of Way of the Kip. Now that Reece has the mystical sandalewood candle, will it help him sleep?

Story below for those on Substack - cree.substack.com for those that aren’t

Don’t forget, What We Do When We Can’t Dance - is on 30th May at the King Alfred theatre in London - tickets are free

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/what-we-do-when-we-cant-dance-by-dreamarts-rep-company-tickets-1988164832534

Also,my rap EP and E-Book - Raw 64s of Boredom - is £2

https://paulcree.co.uk/shop/raw64sofboredom

That’s it for this week

Peas and taters

Paul

Way of the Kip - Chapter 5 - Is it

Practically flew off the 159, almost tumbling down the stairs from the top deck. Ran back to the gaff. Up the few steps to the front door: key in, twist, push, close and then straight into my room. Slapped the shopping on the bed, cracked open one of the tins, which fizzed and spilled down my shirt as the pizza box slid onto the floor. Not sure I cared. I just stared at the sandalwood yankee candle- miraculously sat upright - whilst the rest of the shopping was half-spilling out the bag. GONG sound.

Looked at my phone for the time – it was ten past seven. So now what? I had this feeling of excitement, like back in the day, coming home from school with a new computer game. I wanted to rip the cellophane off and plug the candle in and play the thing, right there and then. Figured this feeling of fizziness probably wasn’t ideal if I wanted to tap into the supposed powers of the sandalwood and get a decent nights kip.

I picked it up and sniffed it. It smelled nice. Nice? Clearly I didn’t have a word to describe the smell, I guess the smell was, well, sandalwood. Whatever the hell that was. It certainly smelled decent. Like the occasional whiff you get of a well presented females hair when you’re standing in the lift.

I drained the beer and thought it might be wise to at least make some sort of plan. Eat, chill-out then aim for bed about half-nine. That’ll do. Picked up the shopping, slipped into the kitchen and whacked the oven on – 180% - ten minutes. Oven food temperature and duration was my Mastermind speciality. Pizza? I could sleep-walk that one. Sleep-walk. If only.

I was excited to go to bed. It was an odd feeling. It was odd even thinking it. Who gets excited about sleep? Maybe Bianca? But maybe there was more to it than that? Something deeper? Again, no words. I cracked another tin open and stuck Illmatic on. Again. Just that intro track, into NY state of Mind. Could listen to that over and over. Which I had done, over and over. Sat there and listened to the first few tracks.

Lying on my bed, head-nodding to Half-Time, half damp work shirt strewn across my floor; my mind was replying events from the day again. The training. The telling-off from Priah. Mugging off Bianca then asking Bianca her for advice. Boring Keith. Being screwed by Shaz. The little buddah statue on Bianca’s desk. Her ‘I’m worth it’ routine. The bias and the bigotry rearing its head, in my head. I couldn’t shake the feeling that all of it was linked to sleep? That feeling, like a little niggle from the deep, that perhaps I’d not noticed before. Like standing on Streatham Hill station in the mornings, waiting for my train, sometimes I’d peer down the track until I could see a little square dot; which might be the train but most of the time it was too out of focus to tell. I didn’t know what it was.

How do you even work this stuff out? Old hip hop guys from the 80’s, like KRS-ONE, would go on about knowledge of self. Pretty sure Nas talked about it too. Was this what they were talking about? But what do you do when you can’t understand it? You feel something but you don’t know what it is? Where was the manual for all of this? I had no idea. Just sat there with the niggle and the beer in my hand.

A thought then popped up in my mind, like a little crisp packet appearing in the sky on a windy day, that maybe getting a decent nights sleep was the missing piece on sorting my life out? The solver of all my problems. I chuckled. As if.

I picked up the candle again and wondered if this little red waxy blob was the answer? At the very least, it might help disguise that stale smell that always seemed to be in my room, no matter how much Glade I used.

I stopped short at the second can, even though I had another two left in the pack. Standard procedure was to drink whatever was there. It was a reflex. This time I showed restraint. Well done me. I ate my pizza at 7.30, so it would give me enough time to digest before I decided to call it a night.

Dinner done and a casual bit of Sky Sports News and I was all set. I found an old lighter from my weed days in a Nike shoe box. I placed the candle on a small shelf just above the fire place and lit the thing. Directly above the candle was that Chelsea calendar from the year before, still stuck on October. It was February. That month’s centre-fold was Frank Lampard. With the candle burning below him, and an empty can of Lynch Africa next to it, it looked like a shrine, or I was about to do some Shamanic ritual.

To help me unwind, I did a few stretches, turned the volume down on the music and dimmed the lights. All this effort needed to be worth it. I was worth it, apparently, or was it Bianca? I looked at the candle and took a deep breath.

Climbed into bed. Nine thirty. On time. Well-done me. The sandlewood aroma started to hit my nose. Here we go. This is it, I thought. Like doing a pill, but the opposite, any minute I’m gonna start coming down. I lied there, excited, waiting for the downness to kick in.

Some deep house compilation was playing, one of those I enjoyed but knew none of the names of the songs or the producers or the album. Just some Global Underground thing. I practised some deep breathing, getting good whiffs of that sandlewood, whatever that was, up my nose. In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out. Waiting. Waiting for the sleepiness to kick in. Any minute now.

I was feeling the music, a decent tune had kicked in. Noticed my head and feet had started nodding, must be the down, the down is coming, here it comes, it’s coming, any minute now, surely? Surely? Come on. Change the CD. In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out. Thoughts whizzing around my brain like rouge firework displays. Remembered that I needed to pay the council tax. Was Tony Dorrigo still playing football? Any minute now…

2am and I was wideawake: laptop screen illuminating my face, hurting my eyes, sound off, tissue at the ready;resorting to the tried and tested. Done what I needed to do. Blew out the candle, climbed back into bed and stared at the ceiling like I did, every night, until I forgot I couldn’t sleep and somehow drifted off. Do one Bianca. None of this was worth it.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening?

This weeks episode of Lager Time feartures chapter 4 of Way of the Kip. Now that Reece has sought the sage advice of Bianca from accounts, he is on his way to Tesco in Brixton to find the sacred sandlewood candel. Will this help with his mission for a decent nights sleep? Will his internal bias get in the way?

Story below for those on the Substack - www.cree.substack.com for those that are not

If you want some previos stories Reece features check the series I did a while back called Young UnProfessional

The Dream Arts Rep show - What We Do When We Can’t Dance - will be at the King Alfred Phoenix in London on May 30th 7 pm - tickets are free

Also, my rap EP and E-boom Raw 64s of Boredom - made in 2020 is on sale for a mere £2 - the next instalment - More 64s of Boredom is on it’s way…

Peas and ‘taters

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com

Greetings, bonjour, what’s happening

Hope all is well out there in Lager Land.

This week you get the third chapter in Way of the Kip - last week, we left Reece at the end of his bias training - having embarrassed himself - but now with a mission to learn the ways of good sleep happens. So what happens when he speaks to his colleague Bianca?

Story below for those on the Substack www.cree.substack.com

Couple of things - as I get ready to release my next rap EP - More 64s of Boredom - I’ve dropped the price on the 1st EP - Raw 64s of Boredom - to £2 on my website. As part of that, you get an e-book that I made to go with it. £2!

Also, found out this week, an audio book I recorded last year with audio charity Calibre Audio - The Final Year by Matt Goodfellow - is the 4th most popular audio book this month on Calibre.

There you go

Hope you all have a banging weekend

Paul

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit cree.substack.com