nik cohn

before st. lester, before carducci the didact, 'twas nik cohn's rock from the beginning that started my infatuation with rockwrite. but cohn's done other worthy stuff, post-penning the new york magazine story that became saturday night fever. in the fullness of time, he's become quite an effective travel writer, of all things, applying that same wiseass know-it-all voice to explorations of broadway (the heart of the world) and "the other england" (yes we have no, my current read).

i've found a few passages in cohn's chapter on liverpool in yes we have no that seem relevant to what's happening in the fort today. regarding the once-great city on the mersey, he quotes beryl bainbridge's english journey: "all the landmarks i remembered, gone without trace...someone's murdered liverpool and got away with it."

but then he adds, "and yet, it's not that simple. each time we think the body's stopped twitching, and we're ready to nail down the lid, it ups and gives us the finger...so long as there's still football, and water in the mersey, the game's not up. 'they may have cut off my bollocks,' as one man says. 'but my dick doesn't know that yet.'"

amen, bro.