Midland Road, Bramhall, Stockport. SK7 3DT
Turn right into a right to buy road, past passed by, sub sub Lutyens semis, to the sublime, sub prime suburban worlds, teetering on the brink of prosperity.
Set back, set against a greying gun metal sky, sits Parkside Social Club.
So there it’s not there.
A chilling ambivalence that merely suggests occupation, a last grasp gasp.
Tattered flag picnics, burnt out embers, paint peels for want of anything better to do.
The world’s first un-social social club,
Where Roland Rat dances alone,
Every night, forever.
It’s not funny anymore.
2 thoughts on “Parkside Social Club – Bramhall”
Christ that’s depressing. Reading it from a couple of thousand miles away, I’m suddenly not so desperate to get home…
It was cold wet Sunday morning things may look a little better in the sun