THE BLACK ROOM  -  THE JAMS.                    KLF BIOG 011.
      Having left behind the happy land of break beats and silly
      samples, The JAMS are heading East up over The Pennine-straddling
      They pull up their truck on the hard shoulder.  Behind them to the
      West they can still make out the sprawling connurbation 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 it is already dark.  The Yorkshire towns seek safety
      in the Pennine valleys.  The strings of distant street lamps hold
      together communities like dew heavy cobwebs on a school playing
      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 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 overloading. 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 and Kingboy can
      feel a regular dull thud.  Whether this is the eternal echo of a
      Victorian steam driven revolution or the turbo kick of a distant
      Northern rave is irrelevant.
      Thus inspired, The JAMS climb into the back of their truck and
      November 1990.
      Suggested titles:     It's Grim Up North.
                            Tachograph Overload.
                            128 And Rising.
                            Jerusalem On The Moors.