Alternative - In Nomine Patri

ALTERNATIVE - IN NOMINE PATRI

In Scotland, there was another band who were showing they had mighty good taste by dressing all in black, sporting Kamikazi bandannas, and playing live beneath huge stage backdrops and banners depicting anarchist slogans. Consisting of six members including dual vocalists, they were espousing ideas of autonomy and peace through the mediums of fanzines, leaflets, and a sublime form of Punk Rock. The band was called Alternative, their main influence, of course, being Crass.

Brought to the attention of a national audience by the inclusion of a song by them on the first Bullshit Detector LP, Alternative had grown to be a force to be reckoned with and an important Scottish connection for like-minded bands wishing to play gigs in Scotland. It wasn't too long before Alternative were sharing stages with all the leading Anarcho Punk lights, leading to a record by them being released on the Crass label.

In Nomine Patri was the title of the 4-track EP and was nothing short of a high-octane blend of UK Subs and early live Clash rinsed thoroughly through with a healthy dose of Crass. The centre-piece song on the EP was a track called Anti-Christ, being essentially a dramatic and powerful venture into Crass's Reality Asylum territory. With a near-epic, fanfare introduction featuring church organ, the Lord's Prayer, pounding drums, and crashing guitars, it effectively and immediately established Alternative as being just as able if not not even better than any English band at denouncing religion: "I will not cry or reach out for Christ's hand. He carries my guilt and my sin which was never there. I reject this Christ, I reject the myth that holds us. Where is this Heaven You speak of? Where is this love You offer? Have I no self-control over my thoughts? Whether I like it or not? Is my fate sealed to an endless existence binded in guilt and sin? Your cross has been worn as a symbol of guilt for too long."

Was it Patti Smith who first unwittingly gave the green light for blasphemy in Punk when she declared on her Horses début album "Jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine"? Or was it Johnny Rotten when proclaiming himself an 'Anti-Christ'? Or was it Crass who well and truly flung open the door with Feeding Of The 5,000? Whoever it was, it was clear that a rich seam had been opened up within the Punk realm that was being mined for all it's worth: "I seek no Christ as my saviour, I must find control myself. I seek no god, no painted idol. I'm the only one who answers for me. I ask for nothing. I owe Him nothing."

In a secular age, religion and in particular Christianity had become a sitting duck for criticism if not outright abuse, particularly over the way those with their finger on the nuclear button would use it as the backbone of their morality. At the same time, however, there were also a number of quite radical free-thinkers within the Peace Movement who would cite Christianity as the backbone of their own morality as well. So it went both ways.

Increasingly, then, being blasphemous for blasphemy's sake was becoming a rather pointless exercise unless good reason for it was given. To their credit, this is what Alternative were doing: "His conditions, His ten commandments, slip the noose around our necks... What right has He to share His pain? What right has He to crucify us?... Religious rantings support this system, we're caught like flies in a spider's web."

Like all good anarchists, Alternative saw religion as just another tenet of the system, another pillar of the State, and another form of repression. Their advice being that as well as rejecting organised religion, that people also: "Reject this system. Sow the seeds of peace. Don't recognise the rules of the power-monger, for his hand shall not touch upon our peace. Let no politician make your decisions, for the only government is your self. Reject and pacify."

Anti-Christ was a magnificent achievement both sonically and polemically. The problem Alternative were now going to face, however, was that by setting such a high standard with this particular song, they were going to be hard-pressed to follow it. Not that they weren't going to give it a good try if the other three tracks on the EP were anything to by, all being super-charged Anarcho Punk work-outs operating on a scorched earth policy. 

Or even going by the self-belief as conveyed on the record's inner sleeve: 'We are not alone. Our voices will not fade. We will confront and question. Our vision is absolute.'

Amebix - Winter

AMEBIX - WINTER

What constitutes a classic band is far easier to define than what actually constitutes a classic record. A band either have 'it' or they don't. 'It' having little to do with the music being played but more to do with possessing an edge and a relevancy if only for a brief moment in time, no matter if that moment comes and goes in a blink of an eye to be followed by a subsequent career of mediocrity. Having touched greatness a band can always hold on to that accolade forever more - or the memory of it, at least. From being 'classic' it is then but a short step to becoming 'legendary'.

Dirt had initially proven themselves to be a classic act when first playing live and had then gone on to produce a classic début single in the form of Object, Refuse, Reject, Abuse. Although their début LP had failed to impress and in the interim they had split up, it was of no real matter because they had by then already attained legendary status.

Another contender for that same title was Amebix whose second single, entitled Winter, was released the following month, again on the Spiderleg label. This time round the Killing Joke influence was even more pronounced than on their début single; with tribal drums, rumbling bass and jagged razor-blade guitar creating a backdrop for the hoarse vocals. Once again, however, it seemed that this latest single was another stab at trying to create something unique of their own but not quite getting there.

Winter was a good mood piece to blast over the heads of the huddled Punk masses but there was no denying that Killing Joke had done it so much better and with so much more power. Not that there was anything wrong in wearing your influences on your sleeve, particularly if they were worn with pride and if they were of such high calibre as Killing Joke. And if nothing else, it also showed what good (or bad) taste you had...

Dirt - Never Mind Dirt Here's The Bollocks

DIRT -

NEVER MIND DIRT -

HERE'S THE BOLLOCKS

January 1983 saw also the release of the début album from Dirt, entitled Never Mind Dirt - Here's The Bollocks. With its nod to the Sex Pistols in the title, Dirt were reaffirming their allegiance to the tattered and torn flag of Punk. Not for them any denial of history or any musical/cultural progress for the sake of it. Punk was a state of mind rather than a form of music, for sure, but that wasn't to deny how utterly brilliant three-chord Punk Rock rammalama could be. Dirt being fine exponents of the art.

After numerous interviews with various fanzines a bit more was now known about Dirt as in who they were and where they were from. Not surprisingly they were London-based but interestingly two of the members - Fox on drums, Vomit on bass - were brothers and the older, tattooed guy who was always helping with the lighting at their gigs was their father, Leo.

Although Crass fans from days of old, unlike so many other bands who had been sending demo tapes to Crass (for later inclusion on the Bullshit Detector LPs) it was actually Crass who had approached Dirt rather than the other way round, offering them a support slot on an upcoming tour in place of Poison Girls.

Why Crass had chosen Dirt over so many others seemed to be down entirely to just liking them as people, so much so that they were one of the very few bands that Crass broke their label policy of only releasing one record by any one band. Thus, Dirt's début album appeared on Crass Records.

Their début single, the Object, Refuse, Reject, Abuse EP would forever be a superb slab of Anarcho Punk beauty but it was playing live where they had first impacted and it was live where they would always be at their strongest. It made sense then that Dirt might release a live album but to do so as their début just smacked of compromise. Recorded at The New Half Moon in Stepney, London, almost a year earlier, Never Mind Dirt disappointed because it wasn't what it could and should have been.

Dirt excelled at playing basic, tuneful Punk Rock shot through with a shivering, self-possessed fervour. In the studio with Penny Rimbaud their songs had been turned into finely-chisled Punk jewels; suggesting that a whole album crafted in a similar fashion would be sublime. What was actually delivered - though a bargain at 'Pay no more than' £2.00 - was instead a curiously flat affair that failed to do justice to what Dirt were capable of.

With uninteresting samples of inter-group dialogue replacing any audience applause or any acknowledgement of an audience at all, along with studio-recorded overdubs it wasn't really a 'live' recording of a gig at all. At the same time, it wasn't a full studio recording either. It was neither one or the other. It was a compromise.

Even the cover seemed to convey a mixed message with wording around the outside edge stating 'Anarchy as enacted and as demonstrated by Dirt' but the main picture design being of The New Half Moon venue beneath a looming depiction of the Grim Reaper wielding a scythe. On the back of the cover additional wording around the outside edge simply said 'The end. Or is it the beginning?'

So what did it all mean? And why were the titles of the tracks not listed anywhere on the record? And why even the extreme change of name of their drummer from 'Fox' to 'Shit'? It all made a lot more sense when it became known that just prior to the release of the album, Dirt had actually split up, instigated by the departure of drummer Fox under less than happy circumstances at the Zig Zag squat gig. This would also explain the finality of such statements on the cover as 'Thanks to all who shared the experience', implying not just the experience of the gig at The New Half Moon but the experience of the entire 'career' of Dirt.

Apart from this, the maddening thing about Never Mind Dirt was the fact that all the songs on it were really very good. Hi-jacking the John Lennon line "All we're saying is 'Give peace a chance'" and shouting it out Dirt style shouldn't have worked - but it did. So too playing The Animals' House Of The Rising Sun in their own specific manner and changing the words so that it became an anti-war song. It should have been rubbish - but it wasn't. Instead, it was a sing-along though not quite a family one: "Corpses lay scattered like flowers in a field, in the town of Nagasaki. Animals and land destroyed beyond belief, in the town of Nagasaki..."

Dirt were brilliant but it was just a shame the same couldn't be said of their début album...

Subhumans - The Day The Country Died

SUBHUMANS -

THE DAY THE COUNTRY DIED

For the Subhumans, an important signifier as to where England was at was the inner city riots of 1981, the subject of which they chose to name their début LP after. Released on the Spiderleg Records label, The Day The Country Died was a welcome return to former glory, picking up from the point at which they had first exploded into existence with their Demolition War EP.

Delivering sixteen songs of churning, spinning, speeding Punk urgency, from beginning to end the album simply bounced with excitement. The album's title came from the song Black And White and though not explicitly mentioning the riots of '81 by name, it was clear what it was that was being referred to: "Enquiries - but no solutions, faceless - empty illusions. Reasons - are always pushed aside, remember - the day the country died."

On the album's cover, a cartoon image of a spiky-haired Punk Rocker being shot through the head - molotov cocktail in hand - is superimposed over images of police, war, mobs, missiles and newspaper front pages boasting riot news headlines. Without overstating it, the summer of '81 was obviously of meaning to the Subhumans.

When listened to over the length of a whole album it was apparent that the Subhumans were continuing to perform the neat trick of avoiding being pinned down and categorised, and it seemed to be all down to Dick Lucas's lyrics. Whilst the music was a turbo-charged flurry of rushing, thrashing guitar, bouncing bass and snapping drums; in amongst the words were politics, wry observation, social comment, humour, and even poetry: "There's a hole in the bottom of the world where the blood pours out at the end of the day. When the usual amount of people have died, sit back and watch the death and decay - it's a dying world."

Whilst being fully immersed in the by now recognisable mores, activities and practises of the Anarcho Punk scene and whilst being quite capable of seriousness when it came to serious subjects, what differentiated the Subhumans from the rest of the Anarcho Punk pack was Dick Lucas's almost cartoon-like sense of humour. Liberally lacing his songs with comic asides and noises, he could also pen whole songs that read like madcap comedies: "Oh what a great experience my house is full of deviants, my Dad is going mad downstairs, my brother has just dyed his hair. We got Punks and drunks and thrills and pills and lots of things to make your head go round. It's fun fun fun fun fun til the pigs come round."

In one of the longest songs on the album, entitled Mickey Mouse Is Dead, the irreverence in his lyrics is highlighted when he turns the Crass peace chant of '1, 2, 3, 4 - we don't want your fucking war' into a more comically stupid chant of "1, 2, 3, 4 - look what you done to Mickey Mouse."

Though the subject matter of many of the songs was quite morose, the saving grace was in the way that Dick sounded as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself. In the face of doom and gloom the Subhumans were having fun, no better conveyed than in the track No More Gigs, in which Dick depicts a depressing scenario for his band: "In a smoke-filled room, 'How's it going then?'. 'It's not going at all, we got no more gigs'." But even here Dick turns depression on its head and makes a celebration of it: "A bottle of gin, a packet of cigs. Sing, brother, sing - we got no more gigs."

Despite being undeniably supportive of Anarcho Punk ideas, right down to having the 'pay no more' demand on their record sleeves, the Subhumans were far less intense about it than most of their Punk peer group. And unlike most of the other bands of the Anarcho persuasion, they only had one real message to impart and a very simple one at that. A single word message as written all over the inner sleeve of their album: 'Think.'