And The Bands Played On

AND THE BANDS PLAYED ON

In a final farewell to 1982, for the paper's Christmas edition Penny Rimbaud was asked by the NME to write about Punk in a year of revived patriotic fervour and the Falklands war. Under the title 'Over A Thousand Dead And The Bands Played On', Penny went for it:

'The debate continues - is Punk dead? Was it ever alive? Who the fuck cares anyway?

Punk rejected media lifestyles, exposed lies, upset tables in the temple of youth market. Tired of exploitation by cynical elders, Punk discarded the Jagger/Bowie mafiosa and reclaimed rock'n'roll revolution for itself; the godfathers could sod off.

Punk was do it, make it, take it, yourself. It never was a style, three-chord thrash was a media misrepresentation, there was always more to it than that. Punk was an attitude, "this time round we're all Elvis and fuck the King".

Punk was about personal politics. The Right and the Left wings tried to exploit it and failed. The music business tried and succeeded. Cash speaks louder than conviction.

Punk made many promises, few were kept. Critics of stardom became stars, independent became another word for subsidiary, anti-fashion became radical-chic, mohicans bobbed with bouffants on Top Of The Pops. Those who only played at revolution were devoured by the sharks and excreted as commodity. Bought out, cleaned up and wrung dry, Pop Punk became a sideshow in the media pantomime, another social joke. They deserved everything they got... But did we?

1982 was 'Falklands Year', over one thousand dead, but Thatcher was "proud to be British", proud to be a part of that pointless slaughter, proud because pride's a glossy surface that hides the guilt, shame and lies. The media reinforced the lies. The dailies pumped out hysterical, heroical crap. TV toed the party sham. Business was as usual and the bands played on, superficial escapist drivel to cover the pain.

However, beneath the tinsel and stardust Punk lived on. Not Pop Punk - that remained at best silent, at worst supportive of Thatcher’s barbaric little war and was as dead as those who were sacrificed for her mean arrogance. No. Punk lived anywhere that people got together to demand peace and sanity, that's the real gig. Sometimes there was a band, sometimes nothing but people and that's the crux of the matter, people not musical fads or transitory fashion, just people, people who care - and that's something the music business could never buy.

Rather than ignoring the death and mutilation by turning up the stereo, the real Punks were out protesting against Her Majesty's government's murder machine. The music means no more than any other form of protest, it should offer information and inspiration, not escape. The charts are brainwash for the suckers. Punk's protest lives in the hearts and actions of ANYONE with the courage to stand against the authorities who oppress us ALL.

1983 is 'Cruise Missile Year'. Thatcher and Reagan, naively believing that "the threat of war is prevented by the threat of war", plan to make Britain into a giant launch-pad for their nuclear armoury.

The Task Force was Thatcher's international mask, Northern Ireland is the face beneath it. Her national hand-out is three million unemployed, recession and depression; the SPG and SAS are the fists she uses to deliver it. Do you really trust this megalomaniac with your future? Are you prepared to see life destroyed by the insanity of her and her government?

The world is a very precious place, FUCK THE MUZAK, let's get on with the REAL job, there may not be a second chance.

You've got the keys, find your own fucking door.'

The Zig Zag Squat Gig

THE ZIG ZAG SQUAT GIG

The following weekend - after the 'embrace the base' action at Greenham Common - another similarly remarkable event was unfolding but this time in London: Crass were throwing a Christmas party and everyone was invited.

Out of the blue, Crass along with a whole bunch of people experienced in squatting had entered and taken over the deserted and boarded-up Rainbow Theatre in Finsbury Park with the intention of staging a free concert there. Having locked themselves in, their plans were rudely interrupted by the arrival of security guards and police who promptly evicted them. Not to be thwarted, the equally deserted Zig Zag club in Westbourne Park was chosen instead to play host to the concert and via word of mouth and the use of a telephone hotline the news was spread.

On gaining access to the Zig Zag club, work began in earnest to transform it into a suitable venue for a Crass gig. The electricity was turned on and the building made safe and secure before being decorated with banners, flags and posters. Film projectors were set up along with information stalls and even a soup kitchen to serve vegetable soup and cups of tea to the guests. Down in the cellar, barrels of seemingly abandoned beer were discovered and requisitioned.

And then from miles they came, from all corners of London and other parts of the country. From homes in the outlying suburbs, from bedsits, flats, hostels and squats. Hundreds upon hundreds of Punks, hippies, layabouts, undesirables, outcasts, and ne'er-do-wells. Dropouts, Anarcho rockers, riot rockers and rebels with a cause. Like moths to a flame, drawn to the beacon of Crass. Dressed and stalking elegantly in Doc Martens or baseball boots, black army fatigues, black Punk bondage, black Oxfam chic and black rags. Peroxide Punks, Punks with rainbow hair, spikes and dreadlocks. Street Punks, shabby Punks, hippy Punks, Punk troopers, Punkniks, Punkettes and Punkerellas. Unruly, ungovernable, free, smiling, happy hardcore Crasstafarians and Crassites.

Having extended invitations to come join and perform with Crass at the club, the cream of the Anarcho Punk crop responded and for the first time ever almost all the bands affiliated or supportive of Crass met up under the one same roof and suddenly it was no longer a gig but a festival. A free festival. Suddenly, Crass were re-creating the perfect Stonehenge festival right in the heart of London. The dream and vision of Phil Russell/Wally Hope was being resurrected.

Ever since they had attempted to play at Stonehenge in 1980 and encountered violence from the bikers there, Crass had always shied away from any kind of festival but now, two years later, they and others who had fallen victim to that violence were creating what they had initially hoped to find at Stonehenge: Freedom, autonomy, anarchy and peace.

As explained in a leaflet handed out on the day at the Zig Zag: 'We have to learn to say 'No'. We hope that today we will be able to demonstrate that together we can begin to reclaim that which is ours... Freedom. Free food, free shelter, free information, free music, free ideas. Freedom to do whatever doesn't infringe on the freedom of others'.

The impossible dream was being made real. The last bastion of Punkdom, gathered beneath the flag of the circled 'A'. The Crass empire. The Crass kingdom. A different approach to living, a shared air of understanding. Warm and brilliant. Very drunk but very conscious. Aware.

'Today is a chance to drop old constricting roles and values. A chance to get a taste of music, dancing, love and real anarchy (not the text book type). A chance to tap the reservoir of energy and inspiration that we don't often bother to break through to. A chance to take control of our own lives from the ticket touting music biz; from the money grabbing capitalists, from the multi-national corporations, from the power mad politicians, the democrats, Eurocrats, bureaucrats, from all that crap and prove that we can do it and live it better ourselves'.

Given just 30 minutes each to ply their wares and to say and do what they needed to, the bands and solo performers lined up to take their turn on the stage. Each and every one of them just as good, important and as valid as the next: Faction, D&V, Omega Tribe, Lack Of Knowledge, Sleeping Dogs, T42, Apostles, Amebix, Null And Void, Soldiers Of Fortune, Annie Anxiety, The Mob, Polemic Attack, Poison Girls (re-uniting for the last time with Crass), Youth In Asia, Conflict, Flux Of Pink Indians, Dirt and, of course, Crass.

Enhanced by the celebratory atmosphere and the drunken revelry, outstanding performances were delivered throughout the day, culminating with the entrance of Crass at the end of the night and never before had they looked so mighty and omnipotent yet so as one with the audience. Never before had they looked so fierce, so noble and so proud. The whole event from beginning to end had turned into a complete success, standing as a shining example of what could be achieved through a little bit of trust, a bit of solidarity, and a lot of determination.

'It's only through trying, only by seeing the greyness for the greyness that it is that we can add some colour. We are not advocating instant or violent revolution but neither will we turn the other cheek. We are not game for intimidation, nor will we intimidate. We are not prepared to sit back and watch what is rightfully ours being taken from us. We will defend what we believe is ours, defend what we believe to be our rights. We will try to understand those who seek other visions but we will not let them impose those visions on us.

If you're not looking for the answer you're part of the problem (if you've got the answer please contact Crass as soon as possible...). See you next time... Somewhere over the Rainbow.'

The Zig Zag squat gig as it would forever be known, would pass on into legend and in hindsight be looked upon as one of the best things that Crass were ever involved in. Even the music press came not to bury but to praise it. Not least, it would serve as an example of what was possible and act as a catalyst and an inspiration for other similar events to take place for years to come.

More immediately, it was an absolutely positive way to end a year that had been at times frightening, dangerous and intense though never to be forgotten not only for the historic events but for the historic, classic and utterly brilliant music.

Poison Girls - Where's The Pleasure

POISON GIRLS - WHERE'S THE PLEASURE

It's fair to say that a good number of the women at Greenham Common, if not quite outright fans of Poison Girls would have been aware of them and knew they were on their side. It's fair to say, even, that were it not for Poison Girls some of those women would possibly have never become involved in protesting against Cruise missiles in the first place.

Poison Girls encouraged people - and women in particular - to stand up for what they believed to be right and to voice their objection to what they perceived as being wrong. And if this was in regard to the imposition of nuclear madness then to Greenham Common they could go. They gave courage to both men and women to act on their love, their fears, their feelings, and their compassion. Poison Girls emboldened.

Having announced earlier that year that they would no longer be touring with Crass, Poison Girls were now striking out on their own, free from the shadow of being so closely associated with - for some, at least - such a revered band.

Where's The Pleasure was Poison Girls' first studio album since the 'divorce'. Released on their own XNTrix label and produced by Simean Skolfield and Stuart James (as opposed to Penny Rimbaud), like all their previous releases it found them once again in a strange and unique place. Musically they were being more diverse and adventurous than ever whilst lyrically concentrating more on the personal, though in Poison Girls' world the personal was always going to be political and vice versa.

"Where's the pleasure, where's the fun?" asks Vi Subversa in the title track "It don't take much to work it out. Love is what it's all about." And once again there she was getting to the point immediately. The whole reason for her writing and singing her songs was not for fame or fortune or other such trifling things - but for love. The whole message being imparted was not of anarchy or rebellion or whatever - but love. That wasn't to say, however, that in real life love can't be battered and bruised and be painful; and if anyone sounded as though they'd experienced real life to the max, then it was Vi: "I've done it all before," as she tells us in the song of the same name "Losing my head, sharing my bed. Love in the bath, love on the floor. Done it all before. But this is now love, it's me and you love. Take it easy, let's take it slow. Make it last, don't want to lose it. Love will die, love will go, I know. I've done it all before - but not with you."

If there was no love in a relationship or in what you were doing then should that relationship be brought to a close or the course of your direction changed? This is what Vi (and subsequently Poison Girls as a whole band) was expressing as in the title track again: "The feeling's gone, the story's told. The pleasure's over, now it's cold... People alter, people change. I hardly know you, what's your name?"

And then in the track Lovers Are They Worth It, Vi sings: "Some say I'm silly not to realise how good it was, but things are better now that you don't come around no more... Days, when I knew I had to throw you out. And I'm not sorry, even though I'm all alone."

A personal act leading to personal change could also be a revolutionary act leading to revolutionary change. The personal was political and vice versa. As Vi had sang in Don't Go Home Tonight on the Total Exposure album: "Big changes can come from just little actions. You take a little risk, just a small chance. Take a little risk, like don't go home tonight."

No better is the personal/political relationship exemplified than in the track Soft Touch where Vi tells the story of a boy and a girl going to bed together for the first time: "They were tired, they were drunk and both of them were full of dread. He hoped she would be cute enough to detonate his armaments, but he felt like the government that couldn't get its rockets up."

Rather than going at it like a battle, however, they discover that softness can be ecstasy: "So they realised that sex didn't have to be a fight, time and time again they made energetic peace that night. Both ways up and both ways round, with no attack and no defence, they beat the government with sexual disarmament."

Was there anyone else but Vi Subversa who could connect oral sex with the British government's national defence policy?

And talking of 'defence', how and from who knows where that very issue is addressed in the track Take The Toys in which Poison Girls go acappella, delivering not so much a song but an incantation: "Take the toys from the boys, made a bullet out of rubber. Take their hands off the dials, made a cannon out of water. Get their minds off the money, gotta make a killing. Made a bomb."

At later gigs, rather than singing it live, a recording of this particular track would be played over the p.a. before the band stepped out onto the stage; causing the audience to stop their chattering and creating a sudden change of atmosphere. The effect was spine-tingling.

In an additional track entitled Take The Toys (Reprise), they again go acappella but this time with just two lines being repeated over and over, but those two lines speaking volumes: "Oh no, another bloody bomb song, bomb song. Oh no, another bloody peace march, peace march."

For all this, the most overtly political track on the album is Rio Disco Stink, in which Vi introduces to the agenda the subject of Rio Tinto Zinc, the multi-national mining company responsible for importing uranium to the UK from its mines in South Africa. This being at a time of Apartheid and in contravention of UN resolutions stating that South Africa's natural resources should only be sold with the consent of the UN Council for Namibia - which hadn't been given.

"Do you know what it means when you hear the pain in an ugly woman's song?" asks Vi "I know the truth, I won't hold my tongue about what's going on. I know what it means when you look away when I sing my song. I've got nothing to gain and nothing to lose, and what you do is wrong."

The uranium was being imported under contracts signed in the Sixties by the UK Atomic Energy Authority and RTZ. It just so happened that the British Foreign Secretary Lord Carrington (before moving on to become the Secretary General of NATO after resigning from the government over the Falklands crisis) was a director of RTZ (who were investors in British Petroleum, who were interested in the oil around the Falklands) but also that Queen Elizabeth was a major investor in them.

"It's not enough to cry when the miners die at Rio Tinto Zinc, uranium will kill your son whatever you want to think... I know what it means to want to blow up the Queen and Rio Tinto Zinc... The company banks fill up their tanks but you can't lock up the stink.. Are you feeling proud of that hole in the ground at Rio Tinto Zinc?"

The most powerful track on the album, however, is Cry No More which comes across as a genuinely heartfelt confession as Vi confides that she's simply tired of crying: "..For the underprivileged, for the blacks, the women, for even black women. I'm tired of crying for the starving children, for the Irish, for the unemployed, refugees, amputees, for the pain of the Third World, the poor unfortunates of Hiroshima, Bikini, America... I'm tired of crying for America."

The list continues and never was Vi's voice more fitting for a song: "I'm tired of crying for collection boxes, for noble causes, for victims, more victims. Victims of violence and protection, victims of privilege, more violence, more victims. For teachers lies, for poisoned milk, I'm tired of crying - it changes nothing. For the abuse of sex, the endless rape, the decay, the decaying. I'm tired of crying. For the broken hopes, broken hearts and promises, for the broken backs and the broken dreams. I'm tired of crying."

Years later, Mark of The Mob would say that Cry No More was probably the best Anarcho Punk record ever and his claim would be a valid one.

"It's a savage world, a savage world and I'm tired. And I just want to cry - for me."

The album ends with the track Fear Of Freedom, leaving the listener standing on the spot having been accused of something applicable to all: "Why do you think that they are laughing?" Asks Vi before telling us "Because they've got you where they want you. They taught you fear of falling. They taught you fear of feeling. They taught you fear of freedom. Fear of freedom."

Which meant, of course, that only we held the key and that nobody else could provide it for us. Not Crass, not Poison Girls, nor anyone. Only ourselves.

According to music critic Johnny Waller when reviewing the album in Sounds newspaper, Where's The Pleasure was 'the last great Punk record', which was a nice thing to say and a huge compliment to make though not true by a long chalk. In fact, it would actually be the album that would lose Poison Girls a large chunk of their hardcore Punk audience due to the softening and diversifying of their sound. For the Punk hardcore there were other, more harsher sounding bands to attract and hold their attention than Poison Girls with their new, melodious, post-Punk agit folk rhythms. But that was fair enough and no bad reflection on the hardcore Punks at all.

Poison Girls were moving into the future.

Everyone was happy.

Embrace The Base

EMBRACE THE BASE

Born from despair at the descent into nuclear madness were the women of Greenham Common who by example were continuing to inspire both men and women around the world to stand up and let their feelings regarding nuclear weapons be known.

From the germ of an idea for a protest, an amazing illustration of what was possible came to fruition when 30,000 women descended upon the base to take part in an action. Just two months earlier, copies of a handwritten leaflet had been circulated calling upon women everywhere to come to Greenham Common and 'embrace the base'. The plan being for thousands of women to link arms and form a living, human chain around all nine miles of the perimeter fence. At the same time, everyone wishing to attend was urged to bring with them something that symbolised what they loved most so that the whole of the fence could be decorated with these items. The distributed leaflet took the form of a chain letter that asked the reciprocant to make further copies and to send them on to ten friends.

The response was staggering; as on a dreary, wet Sunday in December 30,000 women of all ages and backgrounds joined together in an emotional show of strength and completely surrounded Greenham Common. By the end of the day, the fence was covered in ribbons, photographs of children, baby clothes, bay nappies, and even a wedding dress. As a protest it was a massively symbolic one, succeeding in showing the stark contrast between life and love as represented by the women and death and hate as represented by the military base.

The following day, the Daily Mirror newspaper put the protest onto its front page with the simple headline: 'Peace!'. Greenham Common and the subject of Cruise missiles were now big media issues.

Whether or not any of the women thought their protest would actually close down the base was beside the point. For the women of Greenham it was a major propaganda coup, causing the government and other supporters and advocates of the Cruise missile plan to launch a counter attack in a bid to regain the higher ground. Women Conservative MPs such as Lady Olga Maitland and Anne Widecombe were wheeled out in a bid to show that the peace protesters weren't representative of all womankind, whilst newspaper editors adopted overnight an almost blanket policy of depicting the Greenham women as unwashed, militant lesbians.

The war to end all wars was heating up.

Wessex '82

WESSEX '82

For quite some time, Dick Lucas had been releasing cassette tapes of early Subhumans demos and gigs on his own Bluurg Tapes label. Buoyed by the success of his band and taking a cue from Spiderleg and Crass Records, the next logical step was to set up his own record label. Bluurg Records was the result and the début release was a 7" compilation EP entitled Wessex '82, featuring one track each from the Subhumans, the Pagans, Organized Chaos, and the A Heads.

With a cover adorned with a photo of the giant white horse cut into the hill at Westbury, the EP was an empathetic gesture of solidarity and support to the Subhumans' Punk neighbours. Apart from their mutual surroundings, all the bands on the record shared a buzzing, tuneful style of Punk that lifted the different vocal styles to a similar level of energised joy.

Lyrically, all the thoughts expressed in the songs shared also an almost world weary cynicism, turned upside down by the music to become celebratory: "No thanks sonny, you're no use any more... You'd better wave goodbye to your dreams... You're just a fucking victim... What's the use in trying too hard?"

If feeling like this was a sign of the times then coming together with like-minded souls was a way perhaps of dealing with it all? Subhumans and the tribe of bands around them as featured on the EP were helping and finding strength in each other to create something from the hopelessness of the world and then moving forward together into a brighter and better future.

Realising that isolation from any centre of activity such as London or any other major city was no hindrance to creativity was a small but very significant step forward. All that was needed was for just one person (such as Dick Lucas, for example) or a small collective of people (such as the Subhumans, for example) to show by example and the ball could start rolling; creating (in Wiltshire, for example) the most extraordinary flowerings (of Punk, for example).

A spark that could light a flame that could start a fire.

Or to quote Situationist Raoul Vaneigem: "From this moment despair ends and tactics begin. Despair is the infantile disorder of the revolutionaries of everyday life."

Violators - Summer of '81

VIOLATORS - SUMMER OF '81

Of much greater appeal and to a larger audience was Summer Of '81 by the Violators, a bona fide classic 7" single of the first degree, released on the No Future label just as 1982 began to draw to a close. Championed by Garry Bushell as fine purveyors of 'street Punk', the Violators were actually from the mean village streets of somewhere called 'Chapel-en-le-Frith', near New Mills in Derbyshire, a place not particularly renowned for its ghettoes. There was something very weird going on in this area, however, as it was also from where Blitz and another very good Punk band called Attack were from.

The Violators were fronted by lead singers Helen and Stylesy, their interchanging and duetting male and female vocals giving them a distinct sound all of their own. On top of this, Stylesy and drummer 'Ant' (along with one of the members of Blitz) seemed to be fully paid-up members of the Clockwork Orange fan-club and in homage to the Kubrick film/Burgess book would dress head-to-toe in full droog fashion - bowler hats, cod-pieces and all.

Summer Of '81 was brilliant, not only for its tuneful but suitably aggressive Punk Rock but for its lyrics, sung in a sweet, mock-Siouxsie Sioux tone by Helen. If only the Banshees were this brazen, however: "There's blood on the streets and the smell is so sweet cos another blue bastard has just gone down. Nightstick in hand, he tried to rule this land but that's no way to make a country great... So it's goodbye to one more fascist clown - we've got a riot, you can't keep us quiet. This is our answer to your law."

Summer Of '81 was a natural, almost instinctive applauding of the previous year's urban riots. A breath of fresh air upon the embers of that month of July, reminding all those who condemned the rioting or even appreciated it that the ghost of civil disturbance still stalked the land, waiting for resurrection.

"We thought the riots were a good thing," said Violators drummer Coley "It was the only way to hammer home to Thatcher that people were pissed off and they weren't gonna take no more."

The song climaxes with a roll call of honour: "Brixton - Riot! Riot! Toxteth - Riot! Riot! Bristol - Riot! Riot! Moss Side - Riot! Riot! England - Riot! Riot!"

It was strange to think that a gravel-voiced Punk Rocker from Derbyshire understood what the riots meant far better than any politician, sociologist or police chief: "If everyone had rioted at the same time on one certain night it would have worked much better," said Stylesy "Think of the power..." Or maybe it wasn't so strange? But yes, there was definitely something very weird going on in that particular area of Britain as there was in Wiltshire also, stamping ground of the Subhumans...

Andy T - Weary Of The Flesh

ANDY T - WEARY OF THE FLESH

Continuing to give succour to bands and artists that no major label would touch with a large barge pole was, of course, Crass, whose next release on their label was Weary Of The Flesh by Andy T.

Anyone attending a Crass concert during this period would in all likelihood have come upon Andy T, seemingly popping up from out of the audience between bands and regaling everyone with a burst of short poems shouted out in a broad Northern accent. Whilst Annie Anxiety would always perform her poems to a backing track of taped sound, Andy T would perform totally unaccompanied by anything or anyone. By performing solo like this, Andy would immediately separate those who were at the gig for the music and a good pogo from those who were there for the whole Crass/Anarcho roadshow experience.

Andy T was the 'Jon The Postman' of Anarcho Punk. Jon The Postman being a legendary, near mythical figure from the 76/77 Manchester Punk scene who would scramble up on stage at early Punk gigs and shout his way through any song that might take his fancy. By all accounts he was totally bereft of talent but of course, being talented wasn't the point. Jon was getting up and 'doing it', and in doing so encapsulated the spirit of Punk perfectly.

The Weary Of The Flesh EP contained 14 Anarcho poems, 'recorded at the Crass bunker and remixed at Southern Studios', dealing with such subjects as ageism, sexism, war, squatting, drug abuse, and violence at gigs; with a specific focus upon vegetarianism and animal abuse.

From the start, it must have been apparent to all involved that a record such as this would have limited appeal, particularly when the words were not being backed by any sort of music but instead by a soundtrack of squealing pigs, discordant guitar and groaning voices. Hopefully, then, nobody was too disappointed when no-one seemed to want to purchase it, even at the bargain price of 'No more than 75p'?

Even though the sentiments expressed in the poems were honest and worthwhile, and the record as a whole was interesting as a piece of avant-garde art; the problem with it was that it failed to invite a second listen or when it did, it was simply to confirm that it was actually as bad as it first appeared on initial hearing.

Over time, Weary Of The Flesh would become known for its peculiar obtrusiveness but like Jon The Postman, it would be live on stage where Andy T's real strength and meaning would always lay; serving as in inspiration to all would-be poets who just wanted to get up and 'do it'.

Conflict - Live At Centro Iberico

CONFLICT - LIVE AT CENTRO IBERICO

Slipping into a position that they were destined to maintain for many a year by continuing to give succour to the Anarcho Punk scene was Conflict, whose next record release was the 7" EP Live At Centro Iberico.

Released on the Poison Girls' XNTrix label, it contained six songs of fair to medium quality, acting primarily as a document of Conflict playing live during that period. Being a live recording, justice wasn't really being done to the songs but served instead as a teaser for what Conflict might actually be capable of producing. Of greater interest was the fact that the recording was taken from a gig at the Centro Iberico, an old school building in West London that had been taken over and squatted by Spanish anarchists.

All the money that had been made from the Crass/Poison Girls split single, Bloody Revolutions/Persons Unknown, had been put toward the setting up of an anarchist center in London. A place where anarchists, Punks and anarchist Punks could go 'to drink a cuppa and meet people of possibly similar views'. According to the sleeve notes on Bloody Revolutions, the aims of the center were both political and social. The political aim being to make anarchist literature and ideas more easily available; the social aim being to offer a meeting place for people interested in anarchy and its various outlets, as in music, etc.

True to the word of all involved, the center was opened in an old warehouse in Wapping, East London, but after just a year the project folded. In the introduction to the Shock Slogans booklet that came with Christ - The Album, an update regarding the center was printed:

'The Anarchy Center closed down after a year in which, apart from some very good gigs, very little happened. The general feeling is that we were ripped off and that a lot of the money that we, Poison Girls and many others put into the center was wasted'.

In this instance, it seemed, the reality fell short of the idea.

After the closure of the Anarchy Center, the people who had been putting on the gigs there moved operations to the Centro Iberico where, under the umbrella of the Spanish anarchists along with The Mob and their entourage a free, autonomous venue was established.

Sometimes, it seemed, the reality could match the idea.

Britain was being a bit slow in catching up with other European countries where squatted, autonomous venues were widespread but through the persistence and hard work of a small number of people, the situation was slowly but surely changing, ably supported by a plethora of bands - Conflict being one of them.

Crass - How Does It Feel (To Be The Mother Of A Thousand Dead)?

CRASS - HOW DOES IT FEEL 

(TO BE THE MOTHER OF A THOUSAND DEAD)?

Just as defeat in the Falklands would have surely ruined Thatcher, so victory did elevate her to new heights of insufferable grandiosity. Victory was the proof that she could now offer up to show that her politics, her policies and her spirit were totally and absolutely right. Thatcher's spirit was the Falkland's spirit was the spirit of the age - according to Thatcher.

"We have ceased to be a nation in retreat," she declared to a Conservative Party rally shortly after the war "We have instead a new-found confidence - born in the economic battles at home and tested and found true 8000 miles away. We rejoice that Britain has rekindled that spirit which has fired her for generations past and which today has begun to burn as brightly as before. Britain found herself again in the South Atlantic and will not look back from the victory she has won."

All good, stirring stuff, fully endorsed by The Sun newspaper, of course. But at what cost was this new-found confidence? Did the British armed forces go to war with Argentina to liberate the Falklands - for Queen and country - or for the political salvation of Thatcher? And what of the sinking of the Belgrano? Being the point at which the war began in earnest, rapidly escalating the death toll and destroying any chance of a negotiated peace, was the decision to attack made from a military necessity or a political one?

Back in Britain, was the degrading of whole industries and the subsequent mass unemployment a price worth paying for the establishment of a free enterprise economy? If Thatcher's vision of Britain was a nation of shopkeepers, it was also of a nation of Tory-voting, home-owning, patriotic Union Jack wavers. But if patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel, was Thatcher's Britain to be a nation of scoundrels?

Three months after the Falklands war had ended a Victory Parade held in London offered a glimpse of that vision. As tanks rolled by and soldiers and sailors marched through the streets, thousands of people cheered, applauded and rejoiced. With their flags held aloft and their heads held high, the crowds sang 'Rule Britannia' with gusto as Thatcher - without the Queen or any other member of the Royal family present - stood there on a podium like a modern-day Roman emperor, saluting her 'bold young Britains'. For many, the event was a proud and emotional one but for others it was hugely unsettling if not extremely frightening.

At the risk of being strung up from lampposts by a Tory lynch mob, to coincide with the Victory Parade, Crass released their first, fully considered official statement concerning the Falklands war. Not withstanding the various flexi-discs they had issued, How Does It Feel (To Be The Mother Of A Thousand Dead)? was Crass's fifth 7" single release and appropriately under the circumstances was a bitter, intense ball of hate-fueled anger.

The Falklands war had impacted heavily upon Crass and whilst being confirmation of all they had ever said regarding the duplicity of governments, it had left them dismayed at theirs and everybody else's inability to do anything to stop it.

If, as it had appeared at the time that the whole Crass/peace/ Anarcho Punk movement was a force to be reckoned with then why had it been so ineffective when it came to the Falklands war? Why instead was it that after showing the massively violent ends to which she would go in pursuit of her political ideas, Thatcher's star was suddenly in the ascendency? Had Thatcher actually been underestimated? Was it time now to become even more strident in opposition? To up the game? To up the ante? To become even more fierce in condemnation?

How Does It Feel began with what might have been a description of the tiring, heavy load that Crass suddenly felt they were carrying; exasperated by the impact of the Falklands war: "When you woke this morning you looked so rocky-eyed, blue and white normally but strange ringed like that in black. It doesn't get much better, your voice can get just ripped up shouting in vain. Maybe someone hears what you say but you're still on your own at night. You've got to make such a noise to understand the silence, screaming like a jackass, ringing ears so you can't hear the silence. Even when it's there, like the wind seen from the window. Seeing it but not being touched by it."

It was a thoughtful and honest admission but instead of showing surrender to such feelings, Crass were hitting back with a single, screamed question aimed directly at Thatcher: "How does it feel to be the mother of a thousand dead?" A thousand lives, or thereabouts, being the amount lost in the war.

Not only was this a raw and emotive question but also painfully piercing and accusatory. When her own son had gone missing in the Sahara Desert at the start of the year, Thatcher was shown on national television shedding a tear for him as any mother might whose child was in danger. No such tears had been shed and no remorse shown, however, for the starving and dying H-Block prisoners the year previously; the pleas of their mothers and wives calling for clemency falling on deaf ears. The blood of those Irish prisoners was on Thatcher's hands though it appeared to hold no meaning to her nor to any of her fellow Party members, almost as if the responsibility was not theirs.

In comparison, Thatcher was all too ready to claim responsibility for the victory in the Falklands but in doing so, Crass were saying, she should also be held responsible for the deaths: "You smile in the face of death because you are so proud and vain, your cruel inhumanity stops you from realising the pain that you inflicted, you determined, you created, you ordered - it was your decision to have those young boys slaughtered."

As pacifists, Crass were obviously sickened by the war's main perpetrator, advocate and prime beneficiary - Thatcher. How Does It Feel ends with the whole band in unison and then just Steve Ignorant alone spitting out once again their furious refrain, this time sounding for all the world as though it was being directed personally at Thatcher: "1, 2, 3, 4 - we don't want your fucking war! 1, 2, 3, 4 - you can stuff your fucking war!"

Continuing the anti-Falklands war theme, two more songs were featured on the flipside, both featuring Eve Libertine on lead vocals. The first, entitled The Immortal Death was a meditation on the relationship between war and sex: "Ah, those rotting young men who all did their duty are sinking away in the sea. And they've missed, just for them, the 'Invincible panties' displayed in The Sun, page 3." This being, of course, a reference to The Sun's jingoism and the use of page 3 models to encourage the soldiers by flashing breasts and knickers.

The second song, entitled Don't Tell Me You Care, was Crass at their most virulent; perhaps, even, at their most virulent ever. The song starts with the words "You shit-head slimy got-it-alls," and then just gets better from there: "You crap-eyed ghosts with greasy balls. You wicked matron stabbing hard, grabbing while the going's good... You shit-head slimy make-it-alls, with dead meat dripping as you walk. Don't talk of justice or respect, you shit-soaked armchair moralist... You shit-head slimy got-it-alls, crap-eyed ghosts where maggots crawl, tired old jerk-offs with your bodyguards. Those muscle-pimps with forty-fives, you gutless automatic butchers, bullet-shitting dumbhead hookers... You shit-head greedy have-it-alls, you cheat and lie and jargonise that your success is also ours, that what you take you take for us..."

Delivered with caustic, incandescent fury, following the war this was exactly how a good many people hoped that Crass would respond to Thatcher and her supporters. Having had the time to weigh up the subtleties and the ins and outs of the war, this was Crass's thorough and thought-out assessment. There was no debate to be had, no exchange of views or opinion; just absolute and righteous condemnation. There was no message to be imparted, no call for action; just unbridled, unforgiving anger: "You dead meat eyesore death-pushers, look elsewhere for your arse-lickers. The face that stares back from the mirror reflects the reality of your horror. So don't tell me you care, shit head. You betray the dead now as you curse life. Eat your own shit, leader of the nation. Piss off to your Downing Street fortress. Leave us out of your MADNESS. Buy your own Vaseline, grease your own arse, shit in your own backyard, suck your own turds. THIS IS OUR WORLD."

Don't Tell Me You Care was an exhilarating piece of soul-bareing, made ever more heartfelt by Eve's vocal delivery. It was an impassioned scream of disgust perfectly reflecting how a great many people felt. However, daring to express such opinion that ran counter to the prevalent mood of pro-Conservative patriotism meant running the gauntlet of accusations of disrespect, disloyalty and treachery. No doubt for this reason a lot of people were choosing to keep their head down though that's not to say that what Crass were bravely saying wasn't precisely what those same people were all thinking.

How Does It Feel came in the usual wrap-around, fold-out sleeve but unlike other Crass releases there were no copious sleeve notes to pour over. Apart from what was being conveyed in the songs it seemed there was nothing more for Crass to add, so other than Gee Vaucher's artwork the sleeve was in all black. As though behind the anger, Crass were in mourning.

On the inner sleeve that held the actual record were the lyrics along with a reproduction of First World War poet Wilfred Owen's famous elegy, Anthem For Doomed Youth, along with a quote from writer/philosopher Hermann Hesse's book If The War Goes On. And then lastly, a quote from John Lennon. The obvious one, really, and none more so fitting: 'War is over if you want it'.

Being a free flexi-disc that was easily distributed, Crass's earlier release that year of Sheep Farming In The Falklands had the potential of falling into the hands of practically anyone venturing into a record shop. For all that, due probably to the fact that Crass denied at the time that they were behind its release, the only people to receive any flak over it was Rough Trade, the distributor of Crass records.

Following a Conservative MP raising the matter of the flexi-disc in the House of Commons after receiving a complaint about it from a constituent, Rough Trade were written to by the Select Committee on Sound Broadcasting asking them to desist in distributing the disc as it contravened regulations in broadcasting samples of speeches taken from the House of Commons. Rough Trade simply denied any involvement with it and forwarded the letter on to Crass, who hopefully had a good giggle about it. With the release of How Does It Feel, up stepped another Tory MP taking umbrage with Crass.

Having heard the record, or possibly having just read the lyrics, Tim Eggar, the Conservative MP for Enfield North in Essex, requested the Attorney General prosecute Crass under the Obscene Publications Act. For reasons known only to himself, Eggar then issued a press release informing the mainstream media of his action, thereby entailing huge publicity for the record. Eggar and Crass were then invited onto a live radio programme to debate the issue whereupon not only did Andy Palmer make mincemeat of Eggar but Eggar immediately and very successfully revealed himself to be an hysterical fucking idiot.

Years later, Crass would include a sample of the debate on a compilation album of theirs, making for hilarious listening: "The accusations that have been made against us are that the record is obscene," starts Andy Palmer in a calm, polite manner "I consider that Margaret Thatcher, her government, Mr Eggar and all who support her are responsible for sending young men to be slaughtered, which in my view amounts to premeditated and calculated murder."

In a very posh and pompous tone of voice, Eggar replies: "Well, look. What I object to extremely strongly is the actual language used in the last song. Now (addressing the host DJ), I know you have had to consult your lawyers over exactly what words I can repeat because you're frightened of the legal consequences of me reading out the words in that last track. Now that's, now that's, now that is how bad it is." Eggar's brain sounds as though it's about to explode: "And it starts off, the last song starts off with the words 'You shit-head slimy got-it-alls'. And then it gets worse from there."

What elevates it all to high comedy is the fact that Eggar talks exactly how a 'shit-head slimy got-it-all' might be imagined to talk like.

That same week of the radio debate, during Prime Minister's question time in Parliament, a Labour MP asked Thatcher if she might take some time off that afternoon to listen to the record How Does It Feel To Be The Mother Of A Thousand Dead? Sadly, Thatcher failed to respond to the question though it's probably fair to presume she wouldn't have been very amused.

Soon after this, prosecution charges against Crass were dropped, apparently following the decision by the Attorney General that How Does It Feel did not contravene the Obscene Publications Act, although a more likely reason being that someone in government didn't think it wise to give Crass more 'oxygen of publicity'.

Following their bout of self-doubt regarding the effectiveness of what they, Anarcho Punk, and the wider peace movement were doing, Crass's brush with the higher echelons of power acted as a spur for them to step up a gear.

Now was not the time to waver.

Now was the time to go on the attack.

Drongos For Europe - Eternity

DRONGOS FOR EUROPE - ETERNITY

Like an incurable, ever-mutating virus, Punk had by 1982 spread throughout the whole of Europe and North America, its different strains erupting gloriously anywhere and everywhere. Whilst the sounds, styles, attitudes and politics (or lack of) of different Punk bands were constant and common factors in shaping how any new Punk band might be, so too was geography and environment. Meaning where any Punk band was from was always a massive influence upon the way they were.

Stiff Little Fingers, for example, could only have come from Northern Ireland and the Dead Kennedys could only have come from California. The Angelic Upstarts could only have come from South Shields and The Business could only have come from South London. It made sense that the Exploited were urban, from the city of Edinburgh and it made sense that Crass were rural, from the Essex countryside. And it made sense that a band like Drongos For Europe, despite their name, were thoroughly British. It made sense, even, that they were from Birmingham, the geographical centre of England.

Eternity was the title of Drongos For Europe's second independently released 7" single that year and was a fine example of all the right elements colliding at the right time and at the right place to produce an absolute classic record. The title track conjured up images of a William Blake poem put to Punk music, grounding it firmly to a sense of Englishness symbolised as Albion yet enabling it to soar heavenwards.

British Summertime, on the flip-side, was a song of praise for the inner city riots of '81; poetically brilliant in itself for simply equating the idea of British summertime with barbed wire, riot shields, bricks, complete disorder and mob rule. If summertime represented life in full bloom then so too did a riot.

Birmingham, like many other industrial towns and cities throughout the country was under attack from rampant Thatcherism and its accompanying economic policies resulting in large scale unemployment. Birmingham, specifically in the Handsworth area of the city, also happened to be one of the first towns where rioting had erupted following the riots in Liverpool and Manchester.

High unemployment was one of the reasons that had been immediately put forward as a way of explaining the inner city riots and though joblessness was certainly a contributing factor, it was in no way the absolute cause. Secretary of State for Employment, Norman Tebbit, had famously announced at the Conservative Party conference in 1981 that when his father was out of work he didn't riot but instead got on his bike and looked for work. Though roundly condemned by an incensed Left at the time, Tebbit actually wasn't wrong. Unemployment didn't naturally lead to rioting.

Far nearer to the truth was the notion being put forward by Drongos For Europe: that a riot was an exertion of power from the powerless and something that should very much be celebrated. Just as summer is celebrated.

Discharge - State Violence State Control

DISCHARGE - 

STATE VIOLENCE STATE CONTROL

When it came to knowing where to vent their spleen there were no such worries for Discharge, who with their next record release still knew exactly where to aim and in doing so were continuing on their course of aurally pleasuring their very sizeable audience.

State Violence State Control, with its restrained, heavy Punk groove and extended guitar solos saw Discharge stepping slightly away from their normal shredding chainsaw approach though Cal's words were as precise and succinct as ever: "Kept in line by truncheons, rifle butts and truncheons - this is State control."

Regardless of what their critics might say, with each new record Discharge had released there had been a steady musical progression, for many people the zenith being the single Decontrol and the album Hear Nothing, See Nothing, Say Nothing. Having created a whole new Punk genre, however, the question would sooner or later arise asking 'Where now? What now?'

State Violence State Control was a hint as to which direction the band might eventually head. That direction in the end would turn out to be Heavy Metal and would prove ultimately and unfortunately to be their undoing. For some, there might only be a thin line between Punk and Heavy Metal but for others it's a chasm they're just not willing to leap. This would be the bitter lesson that Discharge would one day learn.

Lyrically, Cal had basically said all he really needed to say. He had said it all. State Violence State Control would arguably be the last great Discharge record but their influence and their legacy would go on and on forever.

Special Duties - Bullshit Crass

SPECIAL DUTIES - BULLSHIT CRASS

Packaged in the usual giant wraparound sleeve, the front cover picture on Bullshit Detector 2 was a depiction of the Royal Family waving from the balcony of Buckingham Palace, their faces replaced by death skulls. In stencilled letters around the edge of the picture was the wording: 'Right! Hands up who can smell bullshit?'. In a neat twist, their waving had been turned into them answering the posited question in the affirmative. As well as the Royal Family, it was obvious there were quite a few people around who had no problem at all in smelling bullshit, none more so than Special Duties, from Colchester; though the bullshit they could smell was rather different to everybody else’s.

Special Duties were an absolutely formidable Punk group who already had two singles to their name released on the Rondolet label, home to Anti-Pasti, Dead Man's Shadow, Threats, Riot Squad and (later to be Crass-affiliated) The Fits. Both releases were fine, rabid bursts of viciousness, lashing out at society, Colchester Council, the police and politicians. Singer Steve Arrogant's vocals were suitably snarly and the music hard and urgent. Special Duties were a good band. Their third single release, though again a fine piece of Punk Rock was probably, however, a bit of a misjudgement.

Special Duties, it seemed, had a problem with Crass.

Entitled Bullshit Crass, and arriving in a sleeve adorned with a mock 'Crass cover' design, Special Duties third single was nothing less than an outright attack upon everybody's favourite Anarcho Punk heroes. Starting with a chant of "Fight Crass, not Punk", the song hurtled into a short, sharp blast of spite with Steve Arrogant deriding the idea that Crass might not be rich - "Got no money? Ha, ha, ha!" - before asserting "What they preach, there is no way - Bullshit Crass you've been detected."

There was nothing new in groups attacking other groups in song and in print, even Crass themselves had done so with The Clash so in a way, Special Duties were just continuing a tradition. Nothing could have prepared them, however, for the storm of controversy they were whipping up and the backlash they would suffer from the many supporters of Crass, ranging from the Crass fans themselves, major independent record distributors such as Rough Trade and Small Wonder, and major-league Punkers such as the Dead Kennedys.

When it came to tackling rampaging skinheads at Crass gigs there were very few contenders but when it came to jumping on a Punk band who were urging their listeners to fight a fellow Punk band - especially when that Punk band was Crass - then there were plenty who were willing and able to leap into action. And rightly so. It wasn't as if Crass didn't have enough enemies to deal with without Punk bands from Colchester lining up against them also. And as if there wasn't more important things to aim fire at besides top Anarchist Punk bands who were endlessly giving to all kinds of good causes and bands without asking for anything back.

No way could Special Duties have anticipated just how controversial their attack upon Crass would be and though it raised their profile enormously it was for all the wrong reasons, leading to them being ostracised from the very people who might once have been their supporters, losing them a support slot on a US tour with the Dead Kennedys, and then due to promoters not wishing to put them on eventually causing them to split up.

Icon AD - Don't Feed Us Shit

ICON AD - DON'T FEED US SHIT

Of the bands featured on the original Bullshit Detector LP, a number of them were still very much active. Some, such as Amebix, The Sinyx, The Disrupters, and The Snipers had already gone on to have singles released whilst others such as Alternative and Andy T were continuing to play regular concerts. One band by the name of Icon, whose incredibly catchy song called Cancer had been one of the highlights of Bullshit Detector were only now - two years later - having their début single released.

Having undergone a slight change in personnel over the intervening years along with a slight change in band name to reflect this, the Don't Feed Us Shit EP by Icon AD was issued by Norwich-based Radical Change Records. Semi-wrapped in an A4-sized scrap of paper acting as a record sleeve, proudly boasting the Crass-style command 'Pay No More', this was DIY in its most purest form.

The four songs on the record were brilliant examples of politicised Pop Punk, ably supported by intriguing sleeve notes: 'The government has messed itself up so much that it is now losing the support of the people. Take a look at any election result - ok, in this so-called 'democracy' a Party always wins, but forget that - look at the percentage of people who don't vote. In most cases there is a larger proportion of people who don't vote than who vote for the winning Party - why aren't these people's voices heard? Why? Because if they were recognised, then by the 'rules' of democracy this country would now have no government... Don't feed us shit'.

Icon AD's début record would earn them the honour of being invited to record a radio session for the John Peel show which wasn't bad going for a band first introduced to the world on an LP deemed by the NME as 'ill-conceived' and 'excruciating', and by others as being possibly 'the worst record in the world ever'....