Protest And Survive

PROTEST AND SURVIVE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Radicalised by the Sex Pistols and The Clash.

Radicalised by Punk Rock.

Radicalised by Crass.

To protest and survive was where it was now at.

Bullshit Detector

BULLSHIT DETECTOR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zounds - Can't Cheat Karma

ZOUNDS - CAN'T CHEAT KARMA

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poison Girls - Hex

POISON GIRLS - HEX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poison Girls - Chappaquiddick Bridge

POISON GIRLS - 

CHAPPAQUIDDICK BRIDGE

Chappaquiddick Bridge was the début album from Poison Girls, named after the incident in 1969 in which the car of Senator Ted Kennedy, the younger brother of President John F Kennedy, went off a bridge and into a river, killing the female passenger. The incident led to much scandal and controversy due to Kennedy managing to swim to safety but then fleeing the scene of the accident and not reporting it to the police until the next day. Following an autopsy, it was found the girl had died not from drowning but through suffocation. Apparently she had been able to find an air pocket inside of the submerged car where she would have been able to stay alive for a while and if Kennedy had only called the police and the rescue services immediately she could have been saved. Kennedy for some reason or other escaped being jailed and remained a Senator until his death in 2009.

Though carrying the by now almost obligatory instruction of 'Pay no more than...', the gate-fold sleeve of the album broke away from what was becoming the normal Crass label black and white design and was instead a glossy and bright red affair, incorporating a beautiful yin yang/foetus symbol.

An unlisted and unannounced track starts the album, slowly fading in and turning on its axis like a giant discus spinning endlessly on its edge before fading quietly away again: "State control and rock'n'roll are run by clever men," sings Vi Subversa, sounding as though her point of view is born from personal experience and a worldly wisdom. "It's all good for business and it all goes round again. State control and rock'n'roll are run by clever men, politics are ultra chic and wars are in again. Revolution's this year's thing, we're on the streets again and again." Vi's message is essentially one of caution - to watch out, to beware - because everything is a game of swings and roundabouts with fashions coming and fashions going; all controlled by "the boss mob". Everything is sold and then re-sold because "it's all good for business". Music in particular but even wars, politics, revolution, ideology and political theory - and "anarchy is this year's thing".

Being regular touring partners of Crass and from being on the Crass label, Poison Girls were viewed as part of an Anarcho/Crass package though of course they were very much their own band and the marriage was essentially one of convenience. Vi Subversa was a self-proclaimed anarchist and through her songs with Poison Girls and her deliverance of them through her unique vocal style brought a warmth and a strange sense of wonder to Poison Girls' anarchism that was missing from the Crass version. In songs on the album such as Hole In The Wall and Other, there's no overt or apparent political message at all but the sense of wonder and strangeness is obvious, enhanced by the use of piano, echo and dub sound effects.

The stand out track on the whole album is Daughters And Sons which whilst dealing in the very un-rock'n'roll subjects of age, growing old and loss, is brilliantly and exceptionally inspirational.

To the sound of an electric violin effect and a dropping, single bass note, Vi sets the scene: "When you wake up sweating, sweating from a dream, from the same dream that you had the night before. And you're feeling old and you feel the cold from a drought that's coming in through your door... And your son has gone out, yes he's gone out hunting with the man who was your brother. And your daughter's lying, lying on the bed with the man who was your lover... And your daughter's gone out, yes she's gone out dancing with the one who was your lover. And she's picked up all your songs, all the songs you ever sang. And she's picked up plenty more."

As the song builds to a crescendo, a faint guitar riff grows ever louder before being joined by bass, drums and backing vocals. It's at this point that the song rises to a whole new level as Vi, like a matriarch supreme, beseeches her "daughters and sons" to "sing your own songs, you've got your own songs to sing. You can sing your own songs, there's new songs to sing. Come on, sing your own songs - you've got new songs to sing. Sing your own songs."

In its own modestly quiet way, Daughters And Sons is as powerful and inspiring as anything written and sung by the Pistols, The Clash or indeed even Crass. The point of the song being not only an imploring of children to sing their own songs but to live their own life. 'It's your life, so smash and grab it', as Poison Girls would later declare.

The album ends with another unlisted and unannounced track comprised of a few very simple lines sung very sweetly but repeatedly by a young girl: "Oh, my tender lover. Be my tender lover. Be my tender love." The girl's voice is joined and then gradually eclipsed by the much older sounding, cracked and smoke-ravaged voice of Vi's reciting the exact same words, followed by the sound of children laughing and playing. This short but evocative rhyme evokes a depth of emotion that most other bands could only ever dream of and stands as an example of how successfully Poison Girls could marry complex feelings in certain songs with a hardline anarchist stance in others without compromising on either.

This delicate yet complicated balance is exemplified in the song entitled Statement which came as an additional 7" flexi-disc enclosed within the sleeve of the album. The very first lines of this track as recited by Vi places her fairly, squarely and without equivocation into the anarchist camp of Anarcho Punk: "I denounce the system that murders my children. I denounce the system that denies my existence. I curse the system that makes machines of my children. I reject the system that makes men of machines." Vi then goes on to curse, reject and denounce that same system "that turns the bodies of my own sweet flesh into monsters of iron and steel and war, that turns the hearts of my children against this earth, that turns the genitals of my children into factories of fire and destruction. And rapes our flesh, and tears our womb, this earth our home."

In between Vi's heartfelt pronouncements the accompanying music stops to make space for a lone voice to appear, plaintively declaring "There are no words, for us no words. There are no words." Vi then asks despairingly "Where are they that will cherish my flesh? Where are they that will cherish my children? The men that will stand against the deathdealers? The children who can say No to the lifestealers? Where are they that will curse the deathdealers? I denounce the system."

This combination of stark defiance and sad acknowledgement is what gives the song and what gives Poison Girls a rare benevolence, in the process creating something very unique and very, very special.

Due to their partnership with Crass, Poison Girls were sharing and communicating with the same audience but it's probably true to say that Poison Girls were appealing more to the female members and the more thoughtful elements of that audience. To some, Poison Girls were indeed deemed to be a better band than Crass and in many ways they actually were. Whatever, without question Poison Girls were - like Crass - a uniquely profound band who impacted deeply upon a lot of people causing them to consider, to think and - just as importantly - to act.

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...

The St Paul's Riot

THE ST PAUL'S RIOT

Following their victory in the 1979 General Election, the Conservative Party had vigorously set out on its mission to not only save Western Europe from the threat of Russian communism but to save Britain from itself. Thatcher viewed the post-Second World War years as an experiment in democratic socialism that had failed miserably, resulting in the UK being seen as 'the sick man of Europe' and its residents as being lazy, welfare State-dependent, and in thrall to the Unions. The cure for this 'British disease' was the implementation of the free enterprise economy where money to the public sector would be slashed whilst giving the private sector free rein to capitalise, profit and exploit. Gas and electricity prices were immediately increased along with prescription charges as the process of privatisation, Trade Union reform and property ownership was put into action.

Whilst promising to roll back the power of the State, pay increases for the police and the army were immediately implemented, thus increasing and ensuring its strength. Whilst promising to cut taxes and increase jobs, unemployment rose to an estimated two million mark. And whilst promising peace, the chance of war was increased dramatically by giving the go-ahead for America to site Cruise missiles on British soil.

Life in Britain was already ugly but was quickly becoming uglier and nowhere was this more pronounced than in the inner cities and out on the council estates where the brunt of the Conservative's economic policies were being felt, particularly by those already disadvantaged. Whole communities were rapidly becoming surplus to requirement, causing many to reject the system that was rejecting them. The first real signal of a growing anger and resentment being felt within these communities came in April of 1980 when a full-scale riot exploded on the streets of St Paul's in Bristol, sparked by what at the time was viewed as a so-called routine police raid on a local café.

The Black and White Café in Grosvenor Road, St Paul's, had been raided many times before by the police in searches for drugs and the illegal selling and consumption of alcohol but on this particular occasion a large crowd gathered to watch. Having arrested the café owner and loaded quantities of alcohol into a police van, bottles and stones started to be thrown from the gathering crowd at the police, prompted by plain-clothes police openly displaying to the crowd some bags of weed they were confiscating. As the police van drove away followed on foot by other officers clutching even more cans of confiscated alcohol, remaining officers took refuge inside the café and radioed for back-up.

Reinforcements duly arrived, marching upon the café in a military-style column but this attempted show of strength, rather than causing the crowd to disperse simply served to provoke it, causing even more missiles to be thrown.

The riot had begun.

Police officers were pelted with stones and chased off by the growing crowd, whilst abandoned police cars were overturned and set on fire. Sporadic but selective looting of various shops and businesses erupted including most notably a branch of Lloyd’s bank that was attacked, broken into and set alight. So sudden and all out was the assault upon the police that the Chief Constable in charge, seeing that even his dog handlers were failing to have any impact and fearing for the safety of his men, decided to completely withdraw all police from the area to await further reinforcements from neighbouring police forces.

By retreating like this, the police were conceding defeat and for them - at least until later that night when they returned with massive reinforcements, including a firearms team - St Paul's had become a no-go area. The police had lost their position of authority and now it was the crowd that was in control. The St Paul's mob was in power.

For years, St Paul's and other similar communities throughout the country - under both Labour and Conservative governments - had been made to feel useless, worthless and undesirable. Whole communities had been thrown upon the scrap heap and held there through inequality and lack of opportunity. If resident within any of these communities there was more than enough reason to be angry and what better way of venting anger than by attacking authority? The police, in inner city and on council estate alike being the most obvious, visible face of authority.

While politicians shook their heads in disbelief, wondering how such a thing as the St Paul's riot could happen, more pertinent questions went unasked and unanswered: If the police were meant to be serving and protecting a community but that community was rejecting them, what then was their role? Who were they actually serving? What were they actually protecting?

St Paul's was sending out a message and setting an example. In total, 22 police officers were injured that day and 21 police vehicles severely damaged, six being burned and destroyed. Along with a Lloyd's bank.

A way of saying 'No' had been found and St Paul's was saying it very loudly.

Riot was a weapon held by all that the police were afraid of. Riot was an expression of inarticulate rage. A tool at everyone's disposal. Riot for the hell of it and riot as a means to an end.

People in similar circumstances everywhere heard, saw and understood that if St Paul's could do it - then so could they.