Wilson was a Cambridge-educated intellectual, trade unionist, Situationist, Granada TV star and post-punk record-label co-founder.
Ryder was a street urchin singer and songwriter with an appetite for drugs so ferocious he once infamously sold his clothes to buy crack (he’s now several years clean).
Despite both hailing from Salford, the two should probably never have crossed paths, much less worked together and formed a deep and long-lasting bond which once saw Wilson describe Ryder’s slice-of-life, vernacular-heavy lyrics as being “on a par with WB Yeats”.
veteran alpine snow motion stop stop stop
you and your veteran status full motion block block
wide open winter jade alpine glow
the moon you see it moving across the setting snow
january full luna looming down through the shivery fir
cats hunched in the window through the frosted blur
incandescent warming in the yellowed room, wallpaper parched
porcelain chipped on shelves turned just so, that tungsten glow
above and about, strained in the frigid night
there are valentines on the floor, crayons beside them, unfinished
these valentines on the floor, unmeant
like that top class sleeping in another day that’s never been
come here, hold my hand
let me see
carols and rodeo candy