Crass - Rival Tribal Rebel Revel

CRASS - RIVAL TRIBAL REBEL REVEL

Britain: 1980. On all levels - politically, socially, economically, culturally - the country is fragmenting and splintering into various divisions and subdivisions. Whether through choice or not, everything and everyone is adjusting to the effects of the policies being wrought by the Thatcher government.

Unemployment is rising drastically, hitting the two million mark and continuing to climb, creating obvious and huge gulfs between those in and those out of work. We are witnessing the birth of a new super-rich and a newly expanding underclass.

Inflation is soaring as recession deepens. There is talk and a fear of nuclear war. The virtues and values of middle England are being extolled as the be-all and end-all, leaving no room for any other course even though there are plenty - even within the Thatcher government itself - who are expressing concern over the way things are going.

Addressing her critics, Thatcher famously quips "You turn if you want to. The lady is not for turning", indirectly laying down a challenge to those who might dare question her mandate.

On the streets there is a simmering frustration as tempers flare and patience thins leading to eruptions of violence both mindless and calculated. Fighting - particularly emanating from skinheads, it must be said - is transferring from the football terraces to gigs as though it was a new fashion. Bands attracting large skinhead audiences such as Sham 69 are regularly having their concerts interrupted and ruined by those proclaiming allegiance to the British Movement or the National Front but it isn't just ending there at such predictable gigs. The UK Subs, the Slits, Adam And The Ants, Bauhaus, even Toyah - in fact any gig that skinheads are attending has the potential to involve a brawl of some sort.

For a band espousing pacifism, Crass too are attracting an unusually high amount of trouble at their gigs that for some of their members (as well as for a lot of their audience) must be quite shocking. What possibly isn't helping matters is that Crass are making no distinction between mindless violence and politically motivated violence, insisting instead that violence is violence is violence.

For Crass, things had come to a head the previous year at a gig in London, at the Conway Hall, where fighting between skinheads and anti-fascists had exploded into a virtual bloodbath. The skinheads who had been terrorising Punk gigs for months had been met head-on by future Class War founding member Martin Wright and his friends who had meted out a lesson in extreme violence that the skinheads would never forget. Crass, however, had been left appalled at the sight of the carnage and condemned Martin and his friends for attacking those who had made a hobby of attacking Crass fans, even having done so on that very same evening.

Addressing this issue of violence, Crass release a free, single-sided flexi-disc through Toxic Grafity fanzine entitled Rival Tribal Rebel Revel. Incorporating a healthy dose of humour into the song by including mock pre-punch up ad-libbing and plenty of 'Oi! Oi!' chants, the seriousness of the subject is nonetheless not diverted from: "They can stand on their corner with their violence and their hate, stand there and fester til they've left it too late to realise it's themselves they've put their on the spot, cos they've wasted the one and only life that they've got. Tribal wars are waging, everyone's acting out bad parts. Hey there big man take a look at yourself, it's in the mirror that the real war starts."

The inclusion of the flexi-disc leads to this particular issue of Toxic Grafity selling upwards of 10,000 copies, making it one of the biggest selling zines ever. For all that, the reaction of Crass to the violence of the skinheads and to the counter-violence of the anti-fascists reveals a crack in their armour that's rather similar to the one Garry Bushell highlighted when pulling them up on the issue of class. The pacifist vision Crass are espousing is highly commendable but in the face of continuous intimidation and physical violence where is it getting them and more importantly, where is it getting their audience? Rigid adherence to pacifism when aligned with anarchism is serving as an open invite to the bullies of the Far Right to move in and throw their weight around. It's idealistic but it isn't ideal. On the night of the Conway Hall gig, the counter-violence from Martin Wright and his friends served as an immediate answer to that bullying and arguably, it was an effective tactic. From defensive to offensive. Yes, the violence was appalling but at the same time it was also very satisfying to see the skinhead bullies get their comeuppance.

Yes, these are interesting times indeed and everyone - the Left, the Right, the Anarcho Punk audience and even Crass themselves - is on a learning curve. These are days of extremities, be it within mainstream politics with the Thatcher agenda or out on the fringes with the British Movement and the Socialist Workers Party. Crass, their audience and their fellow travellers are holding the middle ground but for how much longer?

"They won't give up their Bomb because we ask nicely," Crass had said on Nagasaki Nightmare. In the same light regarding skinhead and Far Right violence they could just as equally say 'They won't stop beating us up at gigs because we ask nicely'.

"It's in the mirror that the real war starts," Crass were saying on Rival Tribal Rebel Revel and they weren't wrong. Some serious soul searching needed doing and some serious questions needed asking because not only were these interesting times but they were extremely dangerous ones also.

Crass - Nagasaki Nightmare / Big A Little A

CRASS - 

NAGASAKI NIGHTMARE / BIG A LITTLE A

In his review of The Feeding Of The 5000 in Sounds music paper, journalist Garry Bushell had somewhat sneeringly written of Crass: 'They claim to be anarchists and hide behind CND badges - how relevant'. Two years later and CND were bearing up to become a major thorn in the side of Thatcher and Crass had become arguably the most relevant band in the country as evidenced by their next release, Nagasaki Nightmare.

This, their third 7" single was another venture into audio soundscaping, creating a traditional Japanese-like atmosphere through the use of pots, pans, bells and flute; along with Eve Libertine singing in her best Oriental-style voice: "They're always there high in the skies, pretty as a picture in the general's eyes. They've done it once, they'll do it again - they'll shower us all in their deadly rain. Fishing children fish in Imperial Waters, sons and lovers, lovers and daughters. Cherry blossom hanging on the cherry blossom tree - flash blinding flash then there's nothing to see. Dying they're still dying one by one, darkness in the land of the rising sun. Lesson? Learnt the lesson? No, cos no-one really cares - it's so easy to be silent just to cover up your fears."

Eve's singing of the lyrics is underpinned and the whole song carried along by Pete Wright relaying the song's title in his best menacing and agitated tone: "Nagasaki nightmare Nagasaki nightmare Nagasaki nightmare..."

Midway through, the whole song stumbles and breaks down as does Eve as she repeats the word 'rain' over and over again as though she's in a state of total shock before the tempo is picked up and the full power of Crass in full Punk thrash mode is unleashed as is the scorching authority of Eve's voice: "So they die in the nightmare nightmare nightmare - Nagasaki nightmare. And live with the nightmare nightmare nightmare - Nagasaki nightmare. Will you stand by and let it happen again? Nightmare death in deadly rain. Nagasaki nightmare!"

Once again, Crass were raising the level of their game and confounding expectations. Rather than another diatribe, Crass on this occasion were placing a lot of attention upon the actual composition of the song, using sound to convey thought and feeling. This wasn't the first time they had raged against The Bomb but it was without doubt their most concentrated effort: "Man-made power - man-made pain. Deadly rain, deadly rain. They'll do it again - shower us in rain. Deadly, deadly, deadly rain. Nagasaki nightmare!"

Very few could deny the power and the passion of Nagasaki Nightmare and a good many would be so invigorated by it they would move to join the swelling ranks of the anti-nuclear protesters of CND. And for those having trouble in getting their head (and ears) around the Punk thrash, or for those seeking more detail and information there was always the fold-out cover of the record.

Containing a map of Britain pinpointing all the areas where the nuclear industry thrived, a mass of text, and another of Gee Vaucher's brilliant photomontage posters - this time depicting world leaders standing over the charred remains of an atomic bomb last victim - the record's cover was a work of political art in itself.

Seemingly leaving no stone left unturned and utilising all the tools in their box and all the tricks in their bag they were communicating what was essentially a very simple message: 'Fight war, not wars. Destroy power, not people'. Song, music, art, facts, figures - and words. Lots and lots of words.

'Civil Defence isn't about defending people. It's about keeping control of people. Stopping rebellion. Maybe there'd be rebellion after a nuclear war, against the pricks that spread their deadly Last Coming over the people. Maybe there'd be rebellion just because the State is so shit-awful. No matter, Civil Defence is there to keep it - us - down...

State control is the name of the game. If they get us into a war, the State fears a rebellion. Damn right there would be, with the total fucking stupidity of the State, of all States, written in mushroom clouds all over the sky so no-one could miss it. What else could they expect?...

Subversives are what the whole thing is about. Subversives are all the people who want to change things. Having this record makes you a subversive. Being on a strike committee makes you a subversive. Women living outside men's rules are subversives. Anyone who's not supporting the generals and the government, the generals and the government are against. And if the government is a Regional Commissioner locked up down in an Army bunker, generals rule government OK?...

Imagine all those men in grey suits and fancy uniforms down there in their bunkers. Imagine them dreaming about being the saviours of the nation they're destroying. Imagine them fantasizing about the Brave New World they'd build, without the awkward people who get in their way. A world ruled by their kind of men, rebuilt in their image. Those men dream about raping their secretaries down in the bunker's womb in their duty to keep the race going. They must be stopped...

Be yourself. Be yourself and break out of their death machine. You can only be yourself, or a collaborator in death. The mind-fucking machine will grind dry without the sweat of your bodies. Refuse to be ruled, and rulers lose power. Refuse to be afraid, and they cannot frighten...'

Essentially, Crass were defining the problem. The West was edging ever nearer to a war with the Soviet Union, promoted by Reagan and Thatcher on the one side and Brezhnev and his Politburo on the other. The world was being pushed headlong toward nuclear destruction through a stand-off between the last two great ideologies of the 20th Century - Capitalism and Communism. Atomic weapons had already been used twice before on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and there was no reason to believe they would not be used again. The build-up of weapons on both sides served only to increase the possibility of this happening.

Crass were defining all governments and all army generals as those responsible for this absolute madness, and those individuals and the institutions they represented had to be stopped. The power they held, however, was simply the power that we as ordinary people were allowing them. In us refusing to be ruled, the rulers would lose that power. It was all very simple: those choosing to be ruled were collaborators with 'the death machine'; those choosing not to be ruled were subversives and therefore enemies of the State.

'They know that as long as you obey, they will rule. To save our lives and make our lives worth saving, there's got to be more people rebelling than obeying. There could be soldiers and police breaking out of their corners of the death machine. All kinds of people breaking the rules that keep us apart. You can try and change your own life but all kinds of people changing together makes social change.

All kinds of people changing together can support each other. Enough people changing together and we can show the government and the generals they can't get away with their lies. They can't get away with our lives. While they have power they may not see sense but they must see the strength of people refusing rules. For thirty-five years they've kept the world in their nuclear nightmare. Now is the time for their rude awakening'.

This idea of breaking free from rule and control was further expounded upon in Big A Little A, the flipside of Nagasaki Nightmare, where Steve Ignorant enters the fray on a classic Punk Rock riff of exhilarating proportions: "Big A little A bouncing B, the system might have got you but it won't get me." Then to a Ramones-like "1, 2, 3, 4!" throws forth a feisty dose of lyrical reality: "External control are you gonna let them get you? Do you wanna be a prisoner in the boundaries they set you? You say you want to be yourself, by Christ do you think they'll let you? They're out to get you get you get you get you get you."

As though the whole world was his stage, Steve delivers scathing parodies of God ("Hello, hello, hello, this is the Lord God, can you hear? Hellfire and damnation's what I've got for you down there.."), the Queen ("Hello, hello, hello, now here's a message from your Queen; as figurehead of the status quo I set the social scene...") and Thatcher ("Introducing the Prime Sinister, she's a mother to us all, like the Dutch boy's finger in the dyke her arse is in the wall..."), before slipping into a full-on Crass rant: "Palaces for kings and queens, mansions for the rich, protection for the wealthy, defence of privilege. They've learnt the ropes in Ireland, engaged in civil war, fighting for the ruling classes in their battle against the poor. So Ireland's just an island? It's an island of the mind. Great Britain? Future? Bollocks! You'd better look behind. Round every other corner stands PC 1984, guardian of the future, he'll implement the law. He's there as grim reminder that no matter what you do, Big Brother's system's always there with his beady eyes on you. From God to local bobby, in home and street and school, they've got your name and number while you've just got their rule. We've got to look for methods to undermine their powers, it's time to change the tables - the future must be ours."

As in Nagasaki Nightmare, midway through, the song suddenly changes into what could almost be a completely new one as Steve advises anyone who might care to listen to: "Be exactly who you want to be, do what you want to do. I am he and she is she but you're the only you. No-one else has got your eyes, can see the things you see, it's up to you to change your life and my life's up to me."

In essence, this was what Punk had always truly been about: to be yourself. An exhortation that was always far easier to urge than to do and far easier to try for than to actually accomplish. It was a message so simple yet so difficult to grasp, understand and achieve.

In essence, was this not what anarchy was also truly about? To be your individual self? Free from authority and control? United with other individual selves?

If the Pistols' Anarchy In The UK was "words of wisdom, vinyl quotation number one", then surely its B-side, I Wanna Be Me, was words of wisdom vinyl quotation number two?

Punk had enabled and created an environment for people to be and to express their true selves, or alternatively for people to simply re-invent themselves. So, John Lydon became Johnny Rotten, Simon Ritchie became Sid Vicious, Joseph Mellor became Joe Strummer, Chris Miller became Rat Scabies, Eric Reed Boucher became Jello Biafra, Steve Williams became Steve Ignorant, Andy Palmer became NA Palmer (and BA Nana, Dada Nana, Hari Nana, and Sri Hari Nana BA), and so on. Bank clerk Mark Perry became a writer and singer, DJ and clothes shop manager Don Letts became a film maker, artist Paul Simonon became a musician, Wimpy bar server Jimmy Pursey became... a spokesman for a generation.

Harking back to Anarchy In The UK and its convoluted rhyming, Steve Ignorant continued to expound upon the advice he was giving: "If you don't like the life you live, change it now, it's yours. Nothing has effect if you don't recognise the cause. If the programme's not the one you want, get up, turn off the set. It's only you who can decide what life you're going to get. If you don't like religion you can be the anti-christ. If you're tired of politics you can be - an an-ar-chist."

In a way that the Pistols never did, however, a proviso of sorts is added: "But no-one ever changed the church by pulling down a steeple and you'll never change the system by bombing Number Ten. System's just aren't made of bricks they're mostly made of people, you may send them into hiding but they'll be back again."

A fine line was being tread here by Crass. Ultimately they were calling for a revolution though as stated in Bloody Revolutions, not a typical revolution as favoured by the Left but more of a personal revolution. A revolution of self. Perhaps, even, a spiritual revolution? At the same time, however, such a good job they were doing in pointing out and railing against all that was wrong with government, politics, religion, nuclear weapons and the system in all its forms that they were actually validating and justifying a full-scale Leftist-type revolution.

As anarchists, Crass were reluctant to lead or to tell people what they should do though as pacifists they had no qualms in insisting there was no solution to be found in violence, and in this particular argument they were being mightily convincing; in the process persuading many a hardened cynic of the possibility of achieving change through peaceful means.

"They make no space for us in their bunkers or in their hearts or in their world." Crass were stating "There is no space for their works in our world. They must be stopped." The problem that was inevitably going to have to be dealt with at some point as Crass were also stating, however, was that "They won't give up their Bomb because we ask nicely."

This then was the potential breaking point of all that Crass were saying. The point at which personal revolution would turn into personal responsibility and personal choice. However important it was for people to first and foremost change themselves and their own lives, when personal change moved into social change it would inevitably be met by those moving in the opposite direction and by those desiring that things remain just as they are. It would be here, crucially, that people would have to think, decide and act for themselves.

Would they capitulate at the first sign of forceful opposition? Or would they have the courage of their convictions and be prepared to fight for them?

These were interesting times. And only time would tell...

Protest And Survive

PROTEST AND SURVIVE

Almost immediately upon coming into government, the Conservative Party gave the green light to not only maintaining Britain's independent nuclear deterrent but to upgrading it from Polaris to the even more powerful Trident system. The Labour Party had fought the General Election on a policy of unilateralism and although this hadn't won them the election, it didn't mean there wasn't a lot of opposition to Trident. The Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) had been steadily fighting their corner for some time but it wasn't until the election in America of Ronald Reagan as President that support for CND began to really grow.

Reagan came across as a homely, simple type advocating uncomplicated and very general political objectives aimed at the reassertion of American self-confidence. This primarily meant the recovery of the American economy through tax cuts for the rich and the revival of American power by means of a massive defence build-up. Reagan's political views chimed almost perfectly with Thatcher's and she very quickly became his principal cheerleader, particularly when it came to his anti-communist stance.

Reagan saw Russia as nothing less than an Empire of Evil whose ultimate, insidious goal was world conquest and domination. To counter this and to stave off any attack from Russia upon Europe or the United States it was proposed that 572 American-owned and - more controversially - American-controlled Cruise and Pershing missiles be sited throughout Europe. These nuclear warhead-carrying weapons would be capable of flying extremely close to the ground so as to go undetected by radar and if required conduct a first strike upon the enemy. In one fell swoop Reagan with the full backing of Thatcher was escalating the arms race to an unimaginable and unprecedented level and in effect turning the whole of Europe into a potential nuclear battleground - a theatre of war.

Britain's allotted amount of 144 missiles was accepted immediately by Thatcher and when Germany requested that they reduce their allotted amount by 16, Thatcher readily accepted these too, bringing the total amount of Cruise missiles to be based in Britain to 160. All to be sited at Greenham Common in Berkshire and Molesworth Common in Cambridgeshire.

When discussing civil defence, Cruise missiles or the Cold War, Thatcher's eyes would harden. It was apparent that her support for Reagan's arms race and her total backing of Cruise missiles in Europe wasn't being done so much for the defence of Britain but for her hatred of communism. So fierce was that hatred she seemed quite willing to have Britain (and the world) destroyed in order to save it.

Reagan on the other hand, when discussing the same subjects would always appear the proverbial lonesome cowboy - and a stupid one at that. How could, everyone wondered, such a cretinous, second-rate, ex-Hollywood B-movie actor become one of the most powerful men on earth, with his finger on the nuclear button? The point was, however, that people who were as mad as Thatcher and as stupid as Reagan could well be mad and stupid enough to destroy the world in an all-out nuclear war.

Suddenly it seemed a little inappropriate to paint a white stripe across your nose and dress up as a pirate whilst dancing to Adam And The Ants. In the face of world destruction it didn't seem quite enough to dress Mod and groove along to Secret Affair, or indeed to pose as a New Romantic whilst getting down with Spandau Ballet.

A generation had been and was continuing to be radicalised by a cocktail of Sixties idealism, Seventies desperation and Eighties anger.

Radicalised by the Sex Pistols and The Clash.

Radicalised by Punk Rock.

Radicalised by Crass.

To protest and survive was where it was now at.

Bullshit Detector

BULLSHIT DETECTOR

A snapshot of the budding Anarcho Punk scene was given on the next release of Crass Records, a 12" compilation record featuring various demo tracks of bands and individuals from around the country. Entitled Bullshit Detector, it was basically a fanzine in vinyl format sold for a mere £1.35. Almost every one of the 25 tracks on the record were rough and rudimentary, including a practice version of Do They Owe Us A Living? featuring just drums and vocals. By including this version, which by anyone's standards was absolutely basic, it served to suggest that from such humble beginnings something as good as Crass could potentially emerge.

Punk was meant to have been the great leveller, creating an arena that anyone could step into and have their say. "We've got to destroy the entire superstar band system," as John Rotten had put it. No more heroes any more. Anyone can be a Sex Pistol. The truth of the matter, however, was that Punk had simply thrown up a new elite of bands that commanded all the attention and were lauded over by the music press. Bullshit Detector went some way in challenging this by presenting a whole bunch of unknown and unsigned bands who were every bit as valid as any of Punk's main players. They may not have been very competent musically but this was more than made up for by their enthusiasm in attempting to communicate. Some, as might be expected, failed miserably but others - like Crass before them - would go on to greater things and inspire others to actions of all kinds.

Andy T, Counter Attack, The Alternative, Amebix, The Sinyx, Icon, APF Brigade, Eratics, The Snipers, Disrupters, etc, etc. All important bands and individuals not only in their own right but in the sense of the true spirit of Punk Rock.

Penny Rimbaud would later state in an interview that he "hoped that Crass would be the last of the big Punk bands," and in the context of Punk's earlier potential and intent to be a leaderless free-for-all that was betrayed by those seduced by fame and fortune, this statement made perfect sense.

Without any help from the mainstream media Crass were successfully reaching out to thousands of people of all ages and classes, and introducing them to radical thought, politics and ideas.

Reaction from the media to this phenomenon, particularly from the music press was somewhat muddled. In most quarters Crass were ignored completely, some reported on them but in a somewhat confused manner, while others (and in the majority) heaped scorn and ridicule upon them remorselessly. It's a truism, however, that all publicity is good publicity and when a band is hated as much as Crass were by some music journalists then it's an obvious sign that there must be something interesting if not peculiar going on. For this reason in itself a good many people would have been drawn to Crass who before would probably not have been very interested in Punk, let alone anarchist Punk. It could be concluded, even, that all the best bands are hated. Viewed this way it's amusing to think that Bullshit Detector might well be one of the greatest records ever. Maybe?

Punk had promised so much at the start. It had opened a generation's eyes to the world and given that generation ideas of endless possibilities but by the end of 1979 most of the original Punk bands who had inspired so much passion were failing to deliver anything of worth. Punk was deemed to be a spent force. Everyone was turning either Post-Punk or New Wave, all happily promoted by the music press who having wrung all they could from Punk had merrily moved on in search of The Next Big Thing.

Punk was a dying star though still with a huge swathe of people left orbiting around it. As a fashion it was indeed dead but as a style of music and as a vision of creativity, potential and force, Punk was still pulsating. So never mind the music press and never mind the fashion followers, the music business and the hype. Never mind the bollocks. Punk was still too special to have it slip away so easily. Too many promises had been made and not fulfilled. Too many ideas still not fully explored. Too much potential created to simply abandon. Too many things still left unsaid and too many people still not given their chance to have their say.

And having their say was really all that Crass had initially set out to do. Releasing records by other bands and artists was simply their way of giving those bands and artists a chance, in exactly the same way that Punk had given Crass their chance.

Crass were Punk and Punk was Crass, which was something that so many critics just could not understand, sadly always asking why Crass stuck to and wrapped their 'important message' in impenetrable Punk noise?

Their was little doubt that for many the message that Crass were delivering was indeed 'important' but it was also true that Crass had happened to have come along just at the right time, saying something that all those people still orbiting around the dying star of Punk were actually waiting to hear. The restlessness and the dissatisfaction was already there and what with Crass injecting their ideas, thoughts and anger into the mix, those people were soon re-energised and chomping at the bit, as it were. All that was then required was a direction for that energy and dissatisfaction to be channelled and sure enough one was soon proffered by Crass though with the considerable influence and considerable stimulus it must be said, of one Margaret Hilda Thatcher...

Zounds - Can't Cheat Karma

ZOUNDS - CAN'T CHEAT KARMA

In as much as the early Punk bands openly derided hippies and all they stood for, an underground subculture of British hippydom had managed to weather the Punk storm and if not exactly flourished had certainly survived, consolidating around such concepts as peace, freedom and independence - and a certain penchant for drugs.

Entertained and at the same time represented by bands such as Inner City Unit, Pink Faries, Here And Now, Planet Gong and the mighty Hawkwind, it was a scene that sat happily outside of the music business and of the realms of fashion. It turned out years later that Johnny Rotten himself was a big Hawkwind fan and had even at one point (according to Nik Turner) roadied for them. Of all the Punk class of '77, however, it was only Mark Perry of Sniffin' Glue fanzine who braved potential mockery by attempting to build a genuine bridge between the Punk and hippy scenes.

Disillusioned by how his Punk peer group were all flocking to be signed to major record labels, Perry set out in the summer of 1978 with his own band Alternative TV to play a free tour of the UK with Here And Now, taking in along the way the Stonehenge Free Festival of that year. This was Perry's way of demonstrating how he thought the spirit of Punk should be: free, experimental, and wild. A spirit perfectly captured by Crass, who Perry would later become a huge admirer of.

The Here And Now/Alternative TV live experience was captured for prosperity on the split album What You See Is What You Are, a shambolic but vital record of what really was a pivotal moment in Punk.

Zounds were a relatively unknown hippy/Punk band who had only ever played at various squat gigs and free festivals alongside the likes of Here And Now, so were very much a part of that same scene. Through their association with Crass, however, and the release of their Can't Cheat Karma EP on the Crass label they were catapulted to the attention of a far bigger audience. By the time of the release of the EP in July of 1980, the Crass label had gained a reputation of importance and integrity, ensuring thousands of copies of any new release would immediately be sold; Can't Cheat Karma being no exception, going straight to the top of the Independent Chart.

Whilst the record's lead track - Can't Cheat Karma, with its opening line of "I've got an ego it won't let me go what am I gonna do?" - was incredibly catchy and the song War name-checked the "violence in Bristol", it's the song Subvert that was the most compelling.

To an engaging, choppy, Pop Punk sound, vocalist Steve Lake advised how "If you got a job, you can be an agent. You can work for revolution in your place of employment. If you work in a factory, throw a spanner in the works. Internal sabotage - hit them where it hurts. Subvert!"

There would never be any way of telling how many people on hearing this song would actually act on the given advice though the potential was enormous.

"If you got a job, you can be an agent. If you work in a kitchen, you can redistribute food. If you are a policeman ordered to arrest me, you don't have to do it - you can refuse. Subvert!"

Subvert was a brilliant piece of polemic matched only - if not surpassed - by the sleeve notes on the cover: 'Anarchy is a state of mind, not a form of government. It seeks, through the liberation of the individual to free society from the restrictive rules and regulations that have been created in a world dominated by fear and controlled by the manipulators of that fear. Fear is one of the first 'facts of life' that we are taught. The smack for the naughty child, the first agent of normality...'

This was an essay that at the time was invaluable, putting into words much of the thought, sentiment and anger behind what was soon to be labelled as 'Anarcho Punk'. Any young person of school-leaving age facing a future of either unemployment or dead end work could not help but to be inspired by the prose, nor as could any person stuck in a rut of any description.

'At work we are treated as idiots incapable of making our own decisions. We work for our mere survival, while the bosses grow richer and richer. When they fuck it up, it is us that have to do without. They dare ask us to make do, but do you think they give up anything? And when the bosses and the politicians find that their world is collapsing around them they create phony campaigns like 'I'm backing Britain', or phony wars like Northern Ireland and expect us to support them. Back Britain? Fuck Britain! Do you really think that they care one bollock about you? As long as you tow their line they'll feed you your monkey nuts, but try and do it your way and see whose life you're living. They don't care a fuck if you can't afford to eat, they don't care a fuck if you're cold and homeless. As long as you clock in on time you're a convenient number in their little book. Do it your way and you'll be a name again, out on the streets.'

Zounds were putting forward anarchism for consideration as a serious, cohesive idea. Festooning the record sleeve with circled 'A' symbols and even quoting seminal French anarchist philosopher Pierre Joseph Proudon: "Whoever puts his hand on me to govern me is a usurper and a tyrant. I declare him my enemy."

Anarchist ideas that had previously been the domain of students or earnest men in sandals were being given a make-over and presented in a fresh, relevant and exciting way. Revolutionary action suddenly seemed to be reasonable, feasible and under the circumstances of the day, perfectly sensible.

'Don't be fooled by their reasonable smiles. They don't want you, they want a neat number, with no voice, with no mind so that their greed can be fed. Don't be fooled by their polite manner, they'd suck you dry to line their pockets and wouldn't put their hand in it if you were starving. From the very start we are conditioned (conned) to be a part of their machinery. We are conned by our families, schools and places of work into being passive tools. Is that really how you want to live your life? Reject their system of oppression, reject their 'facts of life'. Kick back, question, disobey, make your own rules, live your own life, be responsible. Subvert.'

As a band, Zounds will probably never know or understand just how important their début record actually was. Being one of the first of many releases to come on the Crass label, it not only confirmed the commitment of Crass to their ideas but firmly established the label as being an arbiter of good taste. In addition to this the record also served as a solid foundation stone for a huge number of people to build their personal politics upon, thus helping to pull into shape the budding Anarcho Punk scene.

Poison Girls - Hex

POISON GIRLS - HEX

Prior to the release of their début album, Poison Girls had released an 8 track, 12" EP entitled Hex; a joint venture between the Small Wonder label and the Poison Girls' own XNTrix label.

Laden with samples years before sampling became a popular device used by bands, the music was taut, angular and (as Mark E Smith would have it) totally wired; complimenting perfectly the edgy but very humane and heartfelt vocals of Vi Subversa. This was music born of Punk but departing from it and setting forth along its own chosen path, making and breaking its own rules along with everyone else's.

Lyrically, this was Vi Subversa coming from an entirely original (in terms of rock'n'roll, at least) position, that being of a forty-something mother suddenly given the freedom to express herself politically, as in the politics of everyday life. 

Starting off with the sound of a silent phone-call, on the opening track Old Tarts Song, Vi immediately puts herself in with good company: "Everybody has their price. Up yours!" she snarls. Just two years earlier, Poly Styrene of X-Ray Spex had more or less declared the same sentiment: "Some people think little girls should be seen and not heard but I think, 'Oh bondage, up yours!'"

Though generations apart, both Vi and Poly were coming from the same place and reading from the same page. "Identity! It's a crisis, can't you see?" sang Poly, whilst on the track Crisis, Vi asks "Is it safe to go out shopping, leave the kids outside the toilet? Water dripping on the carpet, leave the kids outside the local? Strangers tapping at the window, is it time to have a crisis? Is it normal? Is this normal? Is it just another day?"

"I'm lost," admits Vi. "So lost, just like you. No-one knows what the hell to do. Or where to go, or when or how or why or which, then or now. No-one knows cos no-one cares, we just look on with ice cold stares. We see the light but turn it out. We dare not act. We whisper our truth, we're afraid to shout. So no-one learns cos no-one shares. We nurse our burns, we hide our cares..." Whilst paying attention to her spoken words we suddenly realise we have entered a completely new song and landed in a completely different landscape, the kind of which for all her brilliance Poly Styrene never ventured.

The Bremen Song, featuring Eve Libertine from Crass as a backing vocalist, offers up proof if needed that Poison Girls were a highly original and fascinatingly curious band. Throwing up imagery of womankind depicted throughout history as witches and heretics burnt at the stake, Vi turns this depiction on its head and snatches it back from a position of victimhood to empowerment. The song is a work of pure feminist art.

On the track Political Love, Vi suggests that whether we realise it or not and whether we like it or not, love is always politicised. Whilst on Jump Mama Jump, Vi calls to "all the Punk mothers out there" and beseeches them to "come out of hiding". Better that than be Under The Doctor, being dealt "some mighty fine dope: Librium, Mogodon, Thorazine, Valium. Though they haven't got a pill called Hope".

"What I'm trying to say," confides Vi "Is you gotta be strong, cos nothing takes the pain away for long".

Hex closes with the song Reality Attack, being all staccato, piercing, fuzzbox guitars, ending with fellow band member Richard Famous urging that we "Attack reality! Attack reality!"; before being joined by the whole band shouting out "Attack! Attack! Attack!" over which Vi cries out "I am alone! I am alone! I am alone!" And then sudden silence.

What Poison Girls had created with their début 12" EP was not just a short collection of songs but a coherent whole, a complete piece of work. Any critic of music chancing upon it at the time of its release (and Small Wonder was by then a respected Independent label so critics should have been paying attention to what they were releasing) would have recognised something very unusual was going on, that a strange flower had suddenly blossomed. For some reason, however, Hex was studiously ignored. Poison Girls didn't fit in with anything, basically, and critics seemed to find this a problem.

Through their association with Crass, Poison Girls were labelled Anarcho Punk and if this was the cap that fitted then they were even more Anarcho Punk than Crass. Penny Rimbaud had produced Hex and as mentioned, Eve Libertine featured on one of the tracks; a few years later Hex would even be re-released on the Crass label. So, the Crass connection was an important one but in the end it was Poison Girls who were more important to Crass rather than the other way round for not only did they put the money up to pay for the recording of Stations Of The Crass but they also added a whole new, extended dimension and depth to the idea of Anarcho Punk.
Poison Girls were an inspirational phenomenon.