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 Southall Riot

THE SOUTHALL RIOT

Away from Stonehenge during that summer of 1981, a tour was about to take place featuring the so-called cream of the current Punk crop. Given the name 'Apocalypse Now', the nationwide series of gigs would be a showcase for The Exploited, Discharge, Anti-Pasti, and Chron Gen; offering an ideal opportunity for fans to see all these bands in one fell swoop.

Touted as the Eighties equivalent of the Sex Pistols' 'Anarchy' tour, the gigs were to pass (unlike said Anarchy tour) without any major incidents, bannings or cancellations but served effectively to underline just how different this second wave of Punk was to the first wave.

This new wave of new Punk was appealing almost exclusively to working class teenagers and was shorn of any pretensions of artiness or musical sophistication. Musically it was far faster, more brutal and much more political than anything that had gone before. This was Punk born from, baptised in and influenced by nothing else but Punk. As Gene October of old school Punk band Chelsea observed: this was the real hard stuff.

To most music journalists it was inexplicable. Punk was growing ever more popular with even the most derivative of bands attracting large audiences to their gigs and selling huge numbers of records. Only one journalist out of all the music newspapers would champion, support and promote this second generation of Punk and that was Garry Bushell of Sounds newspaper.

Though ultra-critical and damning of Crass and Discharge, Bushell was an ardent enthusiast for what was then being styled as 'street Punk'. Conscious of the failure of The Clash to live up to their aspirations, Bushell had turned his attention upon Clash-inspired bands such as Sham 69, Menace, and the UK Subs before focussing on the bands that those very groups themselves were inspiring.

Bushell was a very good writer and soon gained a position of prominence within Sounds, becoming the main features editor; giving him carte blanche to write of the music and bands he clearly loved. To emphasise the difference between this new breed of Punk bands and their predecessors, Bushell began categorising and labelling them according to each style of Punk he judged them to be playing.

Oi! was initially an umbrella name given to cover a large part of this new Punk scene but quickly came to define just the Cockney Rejects branch where the bands dressed in casual skinhead garb and played a type of Punk Rock not unlike that of Sham 69 at their stomping best.

Bushell (like Crass) was in a powerful and influential position with thousands of readers hanging onto his every word. A good review from him or even just a short mention could introduce a band to a huge audience so it was no surprise that very few bands initially objected to being labelled Oi!. A slight problem for some, however, was that this audience comprised a large number of skinheads and with them came the skinhead baggage of violence, machismo, and Right-wing politics.

Fighting with skinheads at gigs was a commonplace occurrence but it was at a gig in Southall, west London, featuring three leading Oi! bands - The Business, Last Resort, and The 4-Skins - that gig-related violence suddenly escalated beyond what anyone thought might be possible.

As fans of the bands started arriving into the area for the gig, almost inevitably trouble started between some of the skinheads and the local Asian residents. Seeing the concert as nothing less than a skinhead invasion of their community, hundreds of Asian youths descended upon the venue to do battle with them.

To keep the two sides apart, police threw a cordon around the venue but in the eyes of the Asians this was simply the police giving protection to the skinhead invaders. From the odd brick and bottle being thrown at the police line, the situation escalated into a full scale riot with Molotov cocktails being thrown at the venue causing those inside to evacuate and for the venue to be eventually burnt down.

In as much as the skinheads were the initial target of the violence, the police quickly took their place with over sixty of them in the end being injured. A photograph of a burnt-out van (belonging to The Business) outside the burning venue was to later become an iconic image.

The media backlash against Oi! was immediate and breathtaking, with many of the bands associated with it being falsely labelled as Nazis, and Garry Bushell (along with Sounds editor Alan Lewis) as being culpable.

Bushell, if anything, was guilty of playing with fire and starting a blaze. Everybody knew that the skinhead image was a violent one and that there was a seam of Right-wing extremism running through the skinhead ranks. Everybody knew that teenagers adopting skinhead as a new fashion were going to adopt the image wholesale, taking on all its traits be they good or bad. Bushell and co were doing very little to challenge any of the most negative of these traits, allowing a propensity for violence, homophobia, machismo and - to a certain extent - racism to flourish unchecked.

At Southall all these chickens came home to roost, dealing a near fatal, knock-out blow to what was potentially a very powerful vehicle for young, working class frustration and protest...

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...

The Stonehenge Rampage

THE STONEHENGE RAMPAGE

That summer of 1980, in an entirely different corner of society another smaller yet far more grievous riot of sorts took place, this time out on the Wiltshire plains at the annual Stonehenge Free Festival.

Unbeknownst to their burgeoning audience at that time, members of Crass had been seminal to the setting up of the first Stonehenge festival in 1974. From it beginning as a gathering of a few hundred hippies in those early days, it had steadily grown and developed into an absolutely unique cultural phenomenon that by 1980 was attracting thousands. The Stonehenge festival was an example of freedom in the raw where practically anything was allowed due to the total lack of police presence. Standing like a post-apocalyptic shanty town where the music was free (courtesy of Hawkwind et al), the food was cheap or even free (courtesy of the Hari Krishnas), and the drugs were in abundance; it was a glimpse into how anarchy might - or might not - work.

Crass had played at the festival the previous year but on returning that following summer, due to their rising popularity they had attracted a large number of Punk Rockers to the site. Though Punk had moved on somewhat from the days of Sex Pistols-type outrage, to some, Punk still represented a challenge that was difficult to come to grips with. Teddy Boys, of course, were famously known for their dislike of Punk but unexpectedly there seemed to be certain bikers who also shared that disdain.

From its outset, Stonehenge was a predominantly hippy affair but as it grew so did the composition of its attendees, pulling in all kinds of people from different sections of society including straight-dressed kids from council estates (taking full advantage of the drugs sold openly there) and chapters of bikers (taking full advantage of the drugs also, of course). The council estate kids were fine and treated the festival like a narco Butlins so were simply there for a good time (and all the rest was propaganda) but a lot of the bikers seemed to have something to prove. Arriving on site usually in convoys, they would park up in circles and claim areas of the site as their own. Which was fine - anything that made them happy. Some, however, would claim the whole festival as their own and it was these who didn't take too kindly to what they saw that year as a Punk invasion.

Throwing bottles at Punk band The Epileptics was the first sign of their displeasure, which then quickly escalated to them seeking out and attacking any Punk Rocker they could find. The ensuing violence was brutal and frightening.

'Bikers Riot at Stonehenge' read the headline in the following week's NME though in truth it was more of a mindless rampage. The incident, however, convinced Crass to decide never to play Stonehenge or any other free festival again, which was really unfortunate. Nevertheless, by Crass being there at all a chain reaction had started and the floodgates were now opened. The budding Anarcho Punk culture had met face-to-face with free festival culture - causing a mutation in both.

The year 1976 and the advent of Punk is often cited as Year Zero. For some, this is undoubtedly the case but at the same time, Punk - and in particular the Sex Pistols - opened up the past and shone a light upon a veritable treasure trove of reference points and influences: The New York Dolls, Iggy Pop, the Velvet Underground, Patti Smith, the MC5, Captain Beefheart, Dr Feelgood, The Doors, The Who, Alice Cooper, the Situationists, King Mob, nihilism, anarchy, the mythology of the Berlin Wall and the Chelsea Hotel, Paris '68, Dickensian London, amphetamines... and heroin.

Likewise, Crass also illuminated a plethora of references, ideas, influences and possibilities; many intentionally but others not so: John Lennon, Walt Whitman, RD Laing, Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Sartre, Arthur Rimbaud, Baudellaire, George Orwell, Richard Hamilton, John Heartfield, Wilfred Owen, anarchism, pacifism, feminism, atheism, existentialism, pop art, collage, Dada, graffiti, CND, black clothes, squatting, free festivals, hashish... and LSD.

All links in a chain. All important stepping stones to an ultimate yet unknown destination.

Worlds were colliding - be they political, social or cultural - causing metamorphosis, unification, friction and (as at Stonehenge) sometimes outright conflict.

It was the dawn of a new decade and as events unfurled in St Paul's in Bristol and at the Stonehenge Free Festival, less significantly (or perhaps more so?) the music charts were being assailed by such classic bands as The Jam, Dexy's Midnight Runners, and The Specials. It was Crass, however, who were arguably becoming the most important band in Britain due not only to their own records but also to the records they were releasing by other artists on their label...

Crass - what?

What?

CRASS

If the world ever needed Punk, then Punk needed Crass. And if Punk ever had anything to do with anger, then Crass were the epitome of that. Indeed, if Punk ever had anything to do with passion, energy, ideas, politics, or non-politics come to that, then Crass had all this and more in abundance.

John Rotten may have declared himself to be an Anti-Christ but it was Crass who had no bones in declaring "So what if Jesus died on the cross? So what about the fucker? I don't give a toss." John Rotten may also have declared himself to be an Anarchist but it was Crass who had no qualms in declaring in unison and with utter conviction "I believe in Anarchy in the UK."

Crass cut to the quick and as Tony D in his fanzine Ripped And Torn foresaw when reviewing their debut record, immediately and effectively split Punk in two: those in it for the right reasons and those in it for the wrong.

Here suddenly and from out of the blue was a Punk Rock band taking Punk and all it stood for very, very seriously. A band who were articulate, intelligent, and apparently very caring yet at the same time as angry as fuck and spitting in the face of everything. Guided not by the profit motive (the cheapness of their debut record and the cheapness of entrance to their gigs being evidence of this) but by higher ideas. All welded to a thrusting, frantic, energised style of Punk Rock that was totally unique.

The word 'Anarchy' had been put forward by the Pistols but it was Crass who were giving it actual meaning, joining with it the words 'peace' and 'freedom'. In the eyes (and ears) of many, Anarchy simply meant chaos and destruction. "Get pissed. Destroy." as the Pistols had put it and whilst this may have held a certain attraction for a lot of people, Crass were turning the word around and equating it instead with autonomy and creativity.

The fact that Crass members were that little bit older and seemingly more educated than others lent weight to the idea that Anarchy wasn't just some infantile disorder but rather a perfectly valid and intelligent supposition. The fact that these people - these adult people - were taking Punk Rock seriously as in spiking their hair, circling their A's, swearing in their songs, dressing the part, using pseudonyms; all gave confirmation to the notion that Punk was indeed a state of mind and potentially a way of life.

When it came to light that beyond the songs, beyond the music and beyond the group they all lived together as a self-sufficient unit in a farmhouse somewhere in Essex, it simply elevated them as a living example of how ideas such as Anarchy might actually work.

Crass weren't just talking it, they were walking it.

They were living it.

They were doing it.

Crass - who?

Who?

CRASS

With the release of Anarchy In The UK by the Sex Pistols at the tail-end of November 1976 and the subsequent furore over their appearance on the Bill Grundy-hosted Today television show a few days after, the words 'Punk' and 'Anarchy' were introduced into mainstream British culture. A few months later in March of '77 The Clash re-introduced the word 'riot' with their debut single White Riot. Not that these words - apart from 'Punk', possibly - were in any way new, of course, but through the medium of Punk Rock they were being given a whole new dynamic.

'Anarchy' as exemplified by the Sex Pistols prompted an idea of absolute freedom through wild abandonment. An urgent and exhilarating declaration though more of a threat than a promise. Years later during the lead-up to their reunion concert at Finsbury Park in 1996, John Rotten would say "Anyone who doesn't know what that song is about doesn't know what anything is about," followed by a customary belch. And as with so many things, he was right.

Meanwhile, to the soundtrack of a wailing police siren, broken glass, alarm bells, dumb-ass bass, banging drums and cheap-sounding guitars as though freshly bought from Woolworths, The Clash called out for a riot. Arguably more of a call-to-arms than the Pistols' debut communiqué, Joe Strummer was leading the charge: "Are you taking over, or are you taking orders? Are you going backwards, or are you going forwards?" Just a push and a shove and all could be ours, it seemed.

As for the word 'Punk', it meant nothing less than a torn and tattered banner under which the desperate, the bored, the lonely and the plain rebellious could gather. A sudden, bright and shining beacon of hope that offered inspiration and something a whole lot better to anyone desiring it.

"I want more life, fucker." said Rutger Hauer's replicant android in the film Blade Runner. Punk offered more of everything - life included. The Sex Pistols had blown a hole in British culture and into the created space the Punk banner was raised. In towns and cities across the country whole armies of little Oliver Twists' stood up and poured into that space, all with one thing in common: They wanted more.

Everything suddenly appeared to be up for grabs and nothing seemed impossible. The spirit was revolutionary and the days heady. For once, dreams could be realised.

As time passed, however, and the 1970s started to draw to a close, for all the jumping and shouting and newspaper headlines Punk's full potential failed to be realised. The light that shines twice as bright burns half as long and with that the Sex Pistols imploded gloriously. "We opened all the doors - and the windows." said Sid Vicious and he wasn't wrong but by 1979 Sid was dead. The Clash in the meantime had turned their attention to America and brand new cadillacs, effectively if not somewhat mercilessly abandoning their British followers to the incoming Thatcher government.

Not that it really mattered, however, as both bands had by then spawned a legion of bastard children who were all too happy to pick up the Punk torch and to run with it. Moreover, so multi-faceted was the Punk idea that the bands and audience left in the wake of the Pistols and The Clash were wildly myriad and diverse...

From the Buzzcocks and their pop brilliance to the Damned and their pantomime chaos. From Adam And The Ants and their sex fetishism to X-Ray Spex and their dayglo plastic world-view. From Stiff Little Fingers and their barbed wire and bombs Belfast experience to the Angelic Upstarts and police oppression. From the Lurkers and their Fulham Ramones fallout to the Adverts and their poetic intelligence. From Siouxsie And The Banshees and their black psychedelia swirling to Generation X and their Sixties glam pop. From The Rezillos and their sci-fi beat to the Only Ones and their heroin flights. From Sham 69 and their football crowd stomps to Chelsea and their minimalist social commentary. From The Jam and their new Mod to the Slits and their feral rampaging. From the UK Subs and their Punk commitment to The Fall and their city sickness. From Alternative TV and their will to experiment to Menace and their Punk pride. From 999 to Penetration to Eater to the Vibrators to The Saints to, to, to... all points in-between.

Everything was suddenly eclipsed, however, with the arrival of a group seemingly from out of nowhere and the release of their debut 18-track, 12-inch single entitled The Feeding Of The 5000.

The group were called Crass.