Watch an interview with Graeme Armstrong
Graeme Armstrong is a multi-award winning and Times bestselling author from Airdrie. His teenage years were spent within Scotland’s ‘young team’ gang culture, an experience that features in much of his writing. He writes in Scots dialect. After reading English as an undergraduate, he completed a Masters in Creative Writing at the University of Stirling and is currently undertaking a PhD at the University of Strathclyde.
He is the author of The Young Team.
Listen to an audio extract from ‘The Cloud Factory’
‘The Cloud Factory’
There’s this photograph ae us at Christmas. Ma granny is wearin a wee sparkly blue cardigan wae hur hair aw done nice. A’m lyin on a chair next tae hur, wearin white trackies n a black polo shirt wae the collar up, in a total state. This look hud become semi-permanent. A stayed oot aw night wae the young mavis, stood ootside the Orange Hall, drinkin Buckfast oot oor nuts on ekto pills. Ma maw wis annoyed cos she didnae want ma gran tae know aboot the violence, drugs n madness. A hud awready been expelled fae Airdrie Academy n turned up regularly wae broken teeth n black eyes. Ma eld gran wisnae daft. That wis wan ae hur last wae us. Ma maw got me a card that said, christmas is a time when you want your past forgotten and your present remembered. A laughed but felt bad aboot it. Ma lovin family wur collateral damage tae aw this.
The lure ae gangs n territorial violence is unstoppable fur many young men in Scotland’s former industrial heartland, North Lanarkshire. The hallmarks ae modern poverty ir aw aroon yi. Deed high streets ir filled wae graffitied shutters n tannin salons n bookies n charity shoaps n off-licences n eld pishy pubs. The prophetic message ae welcome tae hell wis spray-painted on the way intae ma high school in Thrashbush, home tae the young crazzy bush. They fight wae Rawyards wans, the young bundy. Yi hud us, the young mavis, the gyt fae Greengairs, the winhaw yobbos n the tamlahill fae Gartlea. The young parnell wur fae Cairnhill, the c/hall toi fae Chapelhall, the plains toi, the cruix derry, the young clarkston derry, the young reos fae Petersburn, the young bats fae Calderbank n the young mob fae Craigneuk. Coatbrig next door wis worse, if anyhin. Doon there yi hud the rbyt fae Redbrig at Coatbridge Sunnyside station, the albion street fleeto that took in the big flats at Jackson Court n Dunbeth Park, the young dykes fae Sikeside n Greenend, the carnbroe techno next door n the syt fae Shawheed. The famous ll toi n the young kirk wur aw wan team fae Langloan. Their enemies ir fae Toonheed, the pyto. The kwood ra fae Kirkwood, the gyto fae Glenboig, the young monks fae Eld Monkland, the young shaws fae Kirkshaws n the last before yi hut Glesga, the bar g posse fae Bargeddie. The whole place wis mapped oot n divided among young teams.
Acame fae a good home, but ma father dyin when A wis a wee guy increased ma risk tenfold. There wis nae immediate reference point fur me aboot wit it wis tae be a Scottish man. Being mental wis the chief virtue among these tribes. That became oor reality. A wis in two gangs, the young mavis in Airdrie n the lang el toi in Langloan, Coatbrig. Violence wis par fur the course. A wis always fightin wae cunts n took a few sore wans. There wis a pervasive culture ae carryin blades. Ma maw found a few lockbacks A stashed in ma room n flung them aw in the bin. We sat wae the pals ae a young murder victim n they wur aw mad, but stull cried fur their mate. Tano pulled oot a machete on me at the shop, then stoated away wrecked oot his nut. Doon the lane, a wee jakey walked by the troops n somebody geed him cheek n he whipped a knife oot his leather jakit n said, ‘Yees ir no fuckin wide noo, ir yees?’ Doon the park, Div fae the young dykes pulled a big Kitchen Devil oot n tried tae stab oor mate. McIntosh fae the ym grabbed it aff him n flung it doon the drain. If he hudnae, Danger Mouse wis deed guaranteed. Del, fae ma year in school, appeared in a party up oor way n A couldnae stop starin at the slash mark on his face, across his eyebrow, nose n cheek. Ferguson, oor mate, got bottled n left like a jigsaw. Two ll toi wans took a knife oot oor mate’s gaff n wur gonnae stab Mai-Tai ootside Farmfoods, he grabbed his sister’s baby n held it until he jumped in a taxi. Me n Wee Joe sat in a mad dodgy gaff wae a boy who went on tae kill. Joe got stabbed three times, he wis a lucky boy. A mad cunt wis after me n said he wis gonnae git me n, withoot hesitation, A grabbed a long, pointy wan wae a wooden handle oot the cutlery drawer n carried it aboot fur a week in ma blue n yella Berghaus jakit. He never showed up in the end n A’m glad, cos at fourteen A wis probably the most dangerous A ever wis . . .
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Image (c) Alice Zoo
