Coventry – has it come to this?

West MidlandsWest Midlands

Coventry- home of the jet engine, FA Cup winners, legend of Lady Godiva, creator of the 2-Tone label, home of transport… and now the land of the Chav. The sky is grey, the air is cold, the Nike swooshes and Burberry caps are crowding closer and closer, the wheels of your car have gone. Surely not… has it come to this?

Coventry’s downfall from grace has never been fully confirmed, but many locals have pinned down the day after the FA Cup win in 1987 against Spurs that it’s fallen into such an oblivion. The city’s never fully recovered as 60’s concrete, burnt out cars and discarded McDonalds rubbish decorates the concrete slab that we call Cov. It can sometimes look like Blade Runner set in Bosnia bombed several times by the Nazis (which it actually was) and then left to rot for over 50’s years whilst the townies/chavs of the city gather about and inflict their own brand of annoyance, hatred and faeces (which is also true). The unexplained phenomenon of the city constantly clouded in gloom continues it’s hold of depression over you, especially if you were born in Cov, let alone a tourist/visitor/alien/victim. The depression of the city is only ever masked by the glimmer of sovereign rings and Index style hooped earrings blinding your vision.

Coventry is over run by chavs, or townies how we say it here before the media clocked on to such a thing. The city centre is mass-populated by the townie kids (and yes, adults) of JB/First Sport/JJB-esque clothed people giving looks of “I’ll knock you out”, and if you don’t step properly then that’s where you’ll end up. The Burges, day and night is always a gauntlet of danger and disease as you struggle past the crowds of townies or dodging the dropped Big Macs. The areas of Wood End and Bell Green right up to the areas of Finham are littered with the townie lemmings.

The nightlife of Coventry is pretty much dire. The choices are of being surrounded by freaks and misfits in the increasingly dire Colosseum or the Dog and Trumpet death-pit of sweat and unexplainable odour, the trendy but sometimes too bland House music of Careys (c’mon, Dance music is better then this), or even the RnB n Hip Hop showcase of Release where the chance to interview the latest shootings or knifings occur. Or, you guessed it, the chavtastic pantomine of alcohol, cheesy music played from the latest Ministry album, getting off with the inbred or underage, I’ll smash your head in Ikon and Diva The place is guaranteed to end with a fight of some sort. The bungee cord of Coventry works again as somehow you’re always pulled into the mix of the mass-chaos and confusion and you’ll end up being accused of trying it on with some girl too underage to even get in and so encrusted with Argos jewellery it would bring the legend Jimmy Saville in rashes. The place is beyond an embarassment and a prime stomping ground for night time townie/chav entertainment that only Cov could produce. The same townie gal you remember tryin’ it on with your mate from the night before you’d end up seeing the next day in a school uniform wearing the same jewellery… but still, it was an eventful night.

To be fair with Cov it is cleaning itself up even if the nightlife and radio stations are still s**t, and the actual city looks and smells like s**t. The city centre is being (rather slowly and pointlessly) redeveloped, Coventry isn’t regarded as ‘officially the dirtiest city in the UK’ anymore, new companies are actually able to make a profit here and a daytrip to Hillfields doesn’t leave you with gunshot wounds as well as the chances of keeping your teeth and wheels in Wood End and Willenhall have increased slightly. But Michael Jackson would promise he’d to behave himself if he was to offer look after your kid, doesn’t mean you’d send your child to Neverland and the same goes to Coventry. The locals will always hate you, townies/chavs will always dispise you regardless of appearence. It’s just the Cov way of life that absolutely everyone is bred into: distrust anybody that looks different or doesn’t wear the latest line of Nike and Kappa. It’s definitely an experience that I wouldn’t recommend on a whole if someone offered to ‘send you to Coventry’.

Is there hope for Coventry? Well before I mentioned that Cov’s last great day was probably when they won the FA Cup. I believe that Football and Coventry City FC have the answer just like Smarties and Shaft… Coventry City were relegated a few seasons ago to the dirt division, managers coming and going and struggling to survive The Championship as we speak. Even some jokers tried to burn down the new stadium before it was even finished being built, summing up the mentality of the place. So basically there is no hope for the city and it will continue to be run by the townie/chav massive. It’s doomed. Walk through your front door and it’s apparent that Coventry will always remain the armpit of the Midlands and that the underage boy and girl both pushing the pushchair hate you, just like the rest of the townie/chav population as well as the other locals who have grown to hate and untrust you too, chav or not.
Techno and Electro supremos Chicks On Speed pretty much sum up the mess we’re in off one of their tune from their ’99 Cent’ album, which is aptly named ‘Coventry’ as well:

“Russell lives in Cov
That’s a really brutal place
It’s in the middle of England
Right into your face”

Nuff sed.

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