Showing posts with label 1970s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1970s. Show all posts

Friday, April 15, 2011

10 Brit-Funk Greats

At the Salvation Army charity shop on Deptford High Street this week I came across this classic 12" from 1980.
I knew it was a sign that I had to get around to finishing the long delayed post on Brit-funk (or jazz funk as some prefer to call it). I will spare you the analysis now and let the music speak for itself, but suffice it to say that it is incredible to me that so little has been written about the outpouring of UK dance music creativity in the late 70s/early 80s compared with the amount that has been written about punk and post-punk from the same period.

I have chosen ten hit tracks which some true soul boys and girls might slightly turn their nose up at for being a bit obvious - but these were the soundtrack to the weddings and school discos of my childhood so I will try and be true to that.

Real Thing - Can you feel the force? (1979)



The Real Thing were the forerunners. The band started out in Liverpool in 1970 and indeed the title of their 1977 album Four from Eight references the Liverpool 8 area (Toxteth). They had a string of soul hits (notably You to Me are Everything) but had definitely embraced the funk by the time of 1979's Can you Feel the Force? Mention of the Force obviously links this to the wave of Star Wars pop from that time, but really this is a nice slice of disco utopianism: 'You can feel the pressure lifting off your head, People who make war are making love instead, This could be the dawning of another time, Hatred is a stranger we can see the sign... Peace and love forming everywhere, Can you feel the force?'

Loose Ends - Hangin' on a String (1985)  

Real Thing brothers Chris Amoo and Eddie Amoo also wrote songs for others including early material for early 1980s London trio Loose Ends. The band featured vocalist and guitarist Carl McIntosh, vocalist Jane Eugene, and keyboard player and founder Steve Nichol. In 1985, Hangin' on a String became the first British track to top the US R'n'B chart.

Heatwave - Boogie Nights (1977)  

 Heatwave were an international outfit rather than British as such, but they were started in London by ex-US serviceman Johnnie Wilder and his brother Keith. Among the musicians they recruited to the band was keyboardist Rod Temperton who wrote the biggest hit, Boogie Nights (reached number 2 in UK and US charts). Temperton later wrote songs for Michael Jackson - yes the guy who wrote Thriller, Off the Wall and Rock with Me came from Cleethorpes!

Light of the World - Time (1980)



Light of the World were a north London band whose members spawned many other Brit-funk projects (see below). Also check out their great London anthem, London Town.

Central Line - Walking into Sunshine (1982)

A great track by Central Line that was remixed at the time by Larry Levan of Paradise Garage fame. The person who posted this on youtube mentioned that he saw this band at the California Ballroom in Dunstable in the 1970s supporting Heatwave. My mum and dad first met at that place some years before, so I guess I owe everything to that place.

Beggar and Co - Somebody help me out (1981)



Beggar and Co. was formed by three members of Light of the World. They also worked on Spandau Ballet's funk workout Chant No.1 ( Don't Need This Pressure On).

Hi-Tension - Hi-Tension (1978)



North London Brit-funkers founded by brothers David and Kenneth Joseph. See also their British Hustle.

Freeez - Southern Freeez (1981)


Freeez was initiated by John Rocca. Could equally have included their Arthur Baker produced electro classic IOU. Light of the World's Jean Paul Maunick was also in this band for a while, before he went on to form Incognito - the band that carried the torch on to the next generation of British funk bands in the 1990s Acid Jazz scene.

Imagination - Music and Lights (1982)


Formed in 1981, Imagination were and wore the campest of the Brit-funk outfits, headed by lead singer Leee John. I never really forgave him for saying that he voted Conservative at some point in the 1980s, but I guess you could make a case that that was just one of many ways that he refused to conform to other people's expectations of what a Black British man should do.

Linx - You're lying (1980)



So back to Linx, who in my view made some of the greatest tracks from this time. As well as this song, they also had a hit with the outstanding Intuition among others. The band was formed by David Grant and Peter Martin. The former went on to have solo hits, the latter joined post-punk industrial funk band 23 Skidoo.

Well could do a lot more than ten, but that's enough to start with. Will leave you now with a question which I may come back to in another post: 'Soul and funk were a more significant factor in preventing support for racist parties like the National Front in the 1970s and 1980s than punk, reggae and Rock Against Racism. Discuss'.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Loleatta Holloway (1946-2011)


Disco legend Loleatta Holloway died last night at the age of 64. For me, her best tracks were on the great Salsoul label in the 1970s, including Hit and Run, Catch me on the Rebound and my personal favourite Runaway (put out under the name Salsoul Orchestra featuring Loleatta Holloway)



Ironically her voice is probably best known to UK listeners via a track she wasn't even credited with singing on. In 1989, Ride on Time was a massive number one hit for italian piano-house producers Black Box. The track was built around vocal samples from Loleatta Holloway's Love Sensation, but Holloway was unaware of this until she heard it. She took legal action and managed to secure a share of the income.

It has been suggested that Black Box themselves were unaware of the origin of the vocal:

'It is also worth noting that Black Box were just as surprized as Holloway was to find out who actually sang the vocal. The vocal track was in all likelihood lifted from an unlabelled bootleg of a capella mixes on the album 'DJ Essentials Inc. Acappella Anonymous Volume 1' which included more than a dozen instrument-free vocals, among them Loleatta Holloway's 'Love Sensation'. A careful listen to a number of songs around the same period - including German-based duo Snap's UK Number One 'The Power' which features an ad lib from Jocelyn Brown's 1986 single 'Love's Gonna Get You', and Manchester's Happy Mondays' 'Hallelujah', which uses samples from The Southroad Connection's 'In the Mornin' - reveals that the vocals were all taken from this very same album' (Tony Bennett, Rock and popular music: politics, policies, institutions, 1993).

I do find it hard to believe that discophile producers could have been totally unaware of Loleatta Holloway, and to add insult to injury they used a model to mime the vocals in the video. But notwithstanding that, the affair raised some interesting questions in those early days of sampling. On the one hand, sampling seemed to offer a limitless horizon in which the whole of recorded culture was up for grabs. I defended the right of KLF to rip off samples from Abba and others in the same period on the basis that they were subversively detourning popular culture. On the other hand it was notable that sampling was reproducing the earlier pattern of popular musics, whereby mainly white record companies, producers and artists got rich on the backs of the unrewarded and unrecognised creativity and labour of black singers and musicians. In this respect, sampling was just the new face in the ongoing plunder of black musical cultures.

Still Loleatta Holloway made sure she (belatedly) got her dues, and did ultimately benefit from the exposure. As Matthew Collin recalls in his book Altered State: The Story of Ecstasy Culture and Acid House, she was paid to perform at some of the massive acid house raves of the late 1980s, notably in October 1989 at a Helter Skelter party attended by 4,000 people in 'a muddy, ploughed field in Oxfordshire. The incongruity was sweet, seeing these dance music icons climbing up a rickety ladder onto the back of a flat-bed lorry - in open farmland! - to sing and play. There was Loleatta Holloway, the lead singer on scores of classic Salsoul disco anthems, who seemed almost scared of the mob of brightly-coloured lunatics thrashing in front of the stage'. Ce Ce Rogers and KLF also played.



See also Ben Beaumont Thomas in The Guardian: 'Holloway's voice, however, full of strident indignation and volcanic sexuality, is always the dominant force in her songs, going toe to toe with even the most pounding pianos and lushest orchestras. But the key to her appeal is that she doesn't push herself too far to the front. The pleasure of listening to divas like Whitney or Rihanna is that it's an aspirational experience – women want to be them, men want to be with them. Holloway is a different proposition: a collective experience, of mutual understanding and shared joy. She takes the utopian ideals of clubland – sex, community, abandon – and massively amplifies them back at the dancers, singing to each one of them and the club as a whole. As her voice surges onto and fills the dancefloor, it really does feel like we're all getting stronger'.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Birmingham 6

Twenty years ago today - Thursday 14 March 1991 - I was standing in a crowd outside the Old Bailey in London waiting for the release of the Birmingham 6. It was very moving to see the six finally released from prison after 16 years, three months and 21 days in prison for crimes they hadn't committed, but also sad to see these grey haired men who had spent so much of their lives behind bars.

'The news took a minute or two to reach the street - but when it did there was an explosion of noise that sent the pigeons fluttering away in a panic. Some 500 campaigners and friends were wild with joy; there was dancing in the street. They quickly pushed police barriers aside to swarm the Old Bailey's entrance, hugging any relative of the Six they could spot' (Independent, 15 March 1991).

Their's was just one of a number of high profile 'miscarriage of justice' cases from that era in which Irish (Birmingham 6, Guildford 4, Maguire 7) and black people (Tottenham 3) were framed by police and courts. Sure those were different times - with the Irish conflict leading to terrible events on all sides, not least the IRA bombings of the Mulberry Bush and Tavern in the Town pubs in Birmingham in November 1974, in which 21 people died (for which the B6 were wrongly convicted). But in the last couple of years we have seen a man killed by the police and nobody charged (Ian Tomlinson on the G20 protests) and today comes news that 'The policing watchdog is investigating claims that officers colluded in the false arrest of a protester during last year's student demonstrations in London. The Independent Police Complaints Commission confirmed today that it is looking into the circumstances in which a man, who has not been named, suffered a facial injury and was arrested last December'. So keep on your guard.

The Pogues famously released a song Streets of Sorrow/Birmingham 6 that was banned from the airwaves in 1988 under the Conservative government's recently introduced Broadcasting Ban. Home secretary Douglas Hurd used powers under the BBC's Licence and Agreement and the 1981 Broadcasting Act which governs ITV companies, to forbid TV and radio from carrying interviews or direct statements from the IRA, Sinn Féin, and those who 'support or invite support for these organisations'. The Pogues were judged to fall into the latter category and the 'Independent Broadcasting Authority' ruled that the song alleged that "convicted terrorists are not guilty, the Irish people were put at a disadvantage in the courts of the United Kingdom and that it may have invited support for a terrorist organisation such as the IRA".



There were six men in Birmingham
In Guildford there's four
That were picked up and tortured
And framed by the law
And the filth got promotion
But they're still doing time
For being Irish in the wrong place
And at the wrong time
In Ireland they'll put you away in the Maze
In England they'll keep you for seven long days
God help you if ever you're caught on these shores
The coppers need someone
And they walk through that door

You'll be counting years
First five, then ten
Growing old in a lonely hell
Round the yard and the stinking cell
From wall to wall, and back again

A curse on the judges, the coppers and screws
Who tortured the innocent, wrongly accused
For the price of promotion
And justice to sell
May the judged by their judges when they rot down in hell

May the whores of the empire lie awake in their beds
And sweat as they count out the sins on their heads
While over in Ireland eight more men lie dead
Kicked down and shot in the back of the head

(the final two lines refer to the Loughall ambush of 1987 in which seven IRA members and a civilian were executed by the SAS)

Friday, December 31, 2010

Bobby Farrell takes the Night Flight

Bobby Farrell of Boney M died yesterday at the age of 61. Born Alfonso Farrell in Aruba, off the north coast of Venezuela, he left home at the age of 15 to become a sailor. He lived in Norway and the Netherlands and then Germany where he worked as a DJ before he was recruited by German singer/songwriter Frank Farian for Boney M. Farian now says that he actually sang on most of Boney M's songs, and that Farrell just mimed to them on stage. But clearly Farrell was the male face of Boney M, and they wouldn't have been Boney M without him.

In 1978, Boney M released a bona fide Disconaut classic, Night Flight to Venus:





Friday, December 17, 2010

Captain Beefheart RIP - Hard Workin' Fucked Over Man

RIP Don Van Vliet, aka Captain Beefheart, who died today.

He features on the soundtrack of one of my favourite films, Blue Collar (1978), in which a group of Michigan car factory workers (played by Harvey Keitel, Richard Pryor and Yaphet Kotto) revolt against the company and the union which is in cahoots with it by staging a robbery. I love the way in the title sequence that the sounds of the factory are built into the music, with Ry Cooder on guitar and Beefheart on vocals.


When I was a school boy,
teacher said study as hard as you can,
It didn't make no difference,
I'm just a hard workin' fucked over man
Incidentally I once saw this film at the Ritzy in Brixton and they accidentally showed the reels in the wrong order - beginning, end then middle, Godard style

Monday, December 06, 2010

Classic Party Scenes (6): Warriors, 1979

When Walter Hill's film The Warriors was released in 1979, there were fears that it would lead to an explosion of gang related violence. Watching it today the violence seems mild and indeed it seems incredibly camp, as leather vest-clad street gang the Warriors make their way back home to Coney Island fighting off other equally implausibly-dressed New York gangs along the way.

Musically my favourite scenes are those featuring the radio DJ who broadcasts a coded commentary on the gang battles with lines like 'All right now for all you boppers out there in the big city, all you street people with an ear for the action' before playing Nowhere to Run as a threat to the Warriors.

Then there's the scene where the Warriors are enticed into the club house of The Lizzies, an all-women gang who promise 'Let's party a little, get something going'. You don't need a PhD in queer studies to work out that Lizzies suggests 'Lezzies', with women dancing together to "Love Is A Fire" by Genya Ravan. Of course the welcome is a trap and as the women pull out their weapons a hapless warrior shouts 'The chicks are packed'. The film is loosely based on an ancient Greek story, so The Lizzies also stand for the Sirens.



Update: As mentioned in the comments, a sample from the film features in the mid-1990s house track Can You Dig It by Mark the 909 King (sample kicks in at about four minutes):


The Can You Dig It sample comes from a speech by gangleader Cyrus early in the film, where he calls for the gangs of New York to unite and take over the city:


This speech is also sampled in Can U Dig It? by Pop Will Eat Itself

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Ari Up, The Slits and Unmediated Female Noises

Sad news about the death this week of Ari Up (Ariane Forster), former lead singer of The Slits. She was only 48, incredibly she was only 14 when she joined the band and only 15 when they set out on the famous White Riot tour with The Clash in 1977. At that time they were quite literally making a sound that had never been heard before and looking like nobody had ever looked before.

As Greil Marcus wrote in Lipstick Traces: a Secret History of the Twentieth Century (describing a bootleg recording of the band):

'Shouting and shrieking, out of guitar flailings the group finds a beat, makes a rhythm, begins to shape it; the rhythm gets away and they chase it down, overtake it, and keep going. Squeaks, squeals, snarls, and whines - unmediated female noises never before heard as pop music - course through the air as the Slits march hand in hand through a storm they themselves have created. It's a performance of joy and revenge, an armed playground chant' (Greil Marcus, Lipstick Traces).
In 1977, Caroline Coon accompanied the band on some of the White Riot tour, taking some great photos like the one above of The Clash's Paul Simonon watching Ari do her hair. She documented it in her under-rated book '1988: The New Wave and Punk Rock Explosion':

'It is what the Slits represent, even at their least provocative, that gets up people's noses... Their earthy arrogance and striking mode of attire - an organised mess of dressed-up undress - causes adults to behave with alarming intolerance. Quite apart from being thrown out of hotels, Ari Up is quite used to being spat at by people who pass her on the street. Being refused service in coffee bars and pubs is another fact of life'.

The book includes a poignant quote from Ari: 'I want to live, and when I'm sixty I want to have green hair and spikey heels. If people hate us its because of our honesty. You have to comb your hair otherwise they think you're a mad loony or the devil. But they are living in the past'. Sadly she didn't make it to sixty, but she will be remembered for a lot longer.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Electric Eden

Rob Young’s Electric Eden: Unearthing Britain’s Visionary Music is an ambitious, accomplished and entertaining survey of 100 years of music-making and its associated literature and counter-cultures. Its focus is on the pastoral dream of evergreen Albion, with its core the story of folk music since Cecil Sharp began collecting rural song at the turn of the 20th century. Folk’s various revivals and re-inventions are encompassed, from the use of folk themes in English classical music (e.g. Ralph Vaughan Williams and Peter Warlock), through the proletarian focus of Ewan McColl and A.L. Lloyd and on to folk rock and beyond.

Young is less interested though in ‘folk’ as a specific musical genre, than in the vision he sees underlying it - the use of music as a form of ‘imaginative time travel’ to the ‘succession of golden ages’ (both semi-historical and entirely fictional), found in British culture – Merrie England, Albion, Middle Earth, Avalon, Narnia. As he states in the introduction ‘The ‘Visionary Music’ involved in this book’s title refers to any music that contributes to this sensation of travel between time zones, of retreat to a secret garden, in order to draw strength and inspiration for facing the future’.

This is not a characteristic solely of what is normally defined as ‘folk music’ and he includes within it dreamy English psychedelia, and the work of later visionary musical outsiders such as Kate Bush and Julian Cope.

The stories of Cecil Sharp and Ewen McColl have already been well documented, for me the most interesting parts of the book deal with the subsequent trajectories of late 1960s/1970s folk rock and ‘acid folk’, with their infusions of both Early Music and futuristic psychedelia. As well as covering the obvious reference points (Fairport Convention, Pentangle, Incredible String Band, Nick Drake), Young gives space to many less well known artists such as Bill Fay, Comus and Mr Fox.

After languishing in relative obscurity for many years, some of these have only recently secured the listeners denied them at the time. In another form of time travel, it’s almost as if some of the albums recorded in the late 1960s/70s were set down as ‘time capsules’, to be unheard in their present but acting as a gift to the future that would appreciate them. The paradigmatic examples are of course Nick Drake, who only achieved posthumous fame when his fruit was in the ground, and Vashti Bunyan, whose Just Another Diamond Day sold only a few hundred copies in 1970s and who has only really gained widespread recognition in the last five years or so. I saw her give one of her first major performances at the Folk Britannia 'Daughters of Albion' event at the Barbican in London in 2006, alongside Eliza Carthy, Norma Waterson, Kathryn Williams, Sheila Chandra and Lou Rhodes.

Places and Spaces

Young is very good on place – both the specific landscapes that influenced particular musicans, and the spaces where music was performed. In relation to the former he mentions for instance Maiden Castle in Dorset, inspiration for John Ireland’s Mai-Dun (as well as incidentally the novel Maiden Castle by John Cowper Powys, an author with a similar take on the visionary landscape).
In relation to the latter, he mentions clubs such as Ewen McColl’s Ballads and Blues club/Hootennanay upstairs in the Princess Louise pub in Holborn (founded in 1957) and its later evolution into The Singers Club at the Pindar of Wakefield on Grays Inn Road. In Soho, Russell Quaye’s Skiffle Cellar at 49 Greek Street (1958-60), was replaced at the same address in 1965 by ‘the poky palace of Les Cousins, where the folk monarchy held court, audiences of no more than 150 were routinely treated to mystically revelatory performances. The club never got around to applying for a liquor licence, so patrons consumed tea and sandwiches in a haze of hash smoke, straining to hear the soloists over percussive effects from the cash register’. Denizens included Bert Jansch, Davy Graham, Simon & Garfunkel, John Martyn, Martin Carthy and Roy Harper.

Outside of London in the 1960s, ‘Hertfordshire was already one of the most influential hotbeds of the new folk movement outside of Soho… Herts heads keen for a lungful of marijuana and subterranean entertainment would gather at the Cock in St Albans… Down the road from The Cock brooded the Peahen, where a more traditional, MacColl-style folk-revival club was held’. In nearby Hemel Hempstead, singer Mick Softley ran the Spinning Wheel, while at the Dolphin Coffee Bar, Pete Frame opened Luton Folk Club in 1965.

There's also a good chapter on free festivals, 'Paradise Enclosed', as 'a serious attempt to stake out and remake Utopia in an English field. The temporary tented villages of Britain's outdoor festivals represented a practical attempt to live out the dream of Albion' two hundred years after the Inclosures Act of 1761 and the enclosure of common land.

Some criticisms

In a work of this scale and scope there are bound to be some factual errors of geography (Luton is in Bedfordshire not Hertfordshire) and history (Aleister Crowley was not the founder, or even a founder, of the Golden Dawn). But these are minor quibbles.

There are though a few problems with the framework Young uses for all this rich material. The chief one is its use of the term ‘Britain’s visionary music’ when it is clear that what he is describing is primarily an English phenomenon. Of course there has been plenty of folk music from other parts of the British Isles, but Young barely mentions it. In any event, it has often had a different aesthetic, concerned precisely to differentiate itself from Englishness and commemorating historical conflicts with the 'English' state from Bannockburn to the clearances (in the case of Scottish music).

Although Ireland is clearly not part of Britain, its influence on English folk is also largely unacknowledged here. Did the raucous Dubliners influence those who wanted to take folk in a more rocky direction? Did Irish rebel song envy inspire English political song (Dominic Behan was a key figure in the Singers Club)? Wasn't Thin Lizzy's Whiskey in the Jar one of the biggest folk rock hits? This is left unexplored, and arguably the greatest London folk band of all time - The Pogues - don't even get mentioned.

Young is a better musicologist than a folklorist, and while he is clearly aware that claims of an unbroken folk music tradition stretching back into the mists of time are highly questionable, he seems to want to hold on to some notion of 'pagan survivals' in folk. Despite citing Ronald Hutton in the footnotes, he disregards Hutton's findings that we know very little about the pre-Christian beliefs of the British Isles. Instead he repeats the whole Golden Bough/Wasteland mythology of ritual sacrifice as it if were fact: ‘The gods controlling these cycles needed to be appeased with sacrifices. At first, the leader of the pack, the king himself, was slaughtered before his vital energies began to die off, and a new healthy replacement was appointed in his place’.

Finally, Young does not really explore the potential dark side of all this dabbling with blood and soil. He may be right that many of those working within the folk idiom ‘have been radical spirits, aligned with the political left or just fundamentally unconventional and progressive in outlook’ – something that applies not just to the post-1950s Communist Party revivalists but to earlier pioneers such as Holst and Vaughan Williams who, as Young mentions, hung out with William Morris’s socialist circle in Hammersmith. But it is also true that this look backwards to a pre-capitalist idyll can be profoundly reactionary, and potentially very right wing. In a brief survey of current trends, Young mentions the post-industrial 'neo-folk' scene, but does not refer to the controversies over some of the neo-fascist elements involved (see the new Who Makes the Nazis? blog for more on that).

Now I've read the book (all 664 pages), I will no doubt be spending the rest of the year tracking down some of the music in it that I haven't heard yet.

(see also review at Transpontine of some of the South East London connections)

Sunday, September 12, 2010

The night Steve Biko died I cried and I cried

Stephen Biko, anti-Apartheid activist and founder of the Black Consciousness Movement, died at the hands of the South African police on this day (12th September) 1977. His life and death has been commemorated in many songs - here's a short playlist (for a fuller list, see the Biko wikipedia entry).

Robert Wyatt - Biko,
his take on the best known song, written by Peter Gabriel and recorded by many:





Port Elizabeth weather fine
It was business as usual
In police room 619
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja
-The man is dead

When I try to sleep at night
I can only dream in red
The outside world is black and white
With only one colour dead
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja
-The man is dead

You can blow out a candle
But you can't blow out a fire
Once the flames begin to catch
The wind will blow it higher
Oh Biko, Biko, because Biko
Yihla Moja, Yihla Moja
-The man is dead

And the eyes of the world are
watching now
watching now.


Tapper Zukie - Tribute to Steve Biko:





Beenie Man - Steve Biko:




Steel Pulse - Biko's Kindred Lament ('The night Steve Biko died I cried and I cried'):





Sweet Honey in the Rock - Biko:





Tribe Called Quest - Biko (Stir it Up) - 1993. Not all about Biko, but obviously name checked in title, chorus and the line 'I'm radical with this like the man this song is after':






Dead Prez - I'm an African (mentions Biko):






As mentioned at previous post, today is also the anniversary of the arrest in 1973 of singer Victor Jara in Chile (followed by his murder in custody a few days later). The two deaths are commemorated together in the song 'Chile Your Waters run red through Soweto' recorded by Sweet Honey in the Rock, Billy Bragg and others: 'The hand that cut short the song of Victor Jara, Put young Stephen Biko in a dusty hill grave'

Wednesday, September 08, 2010

Sid Rawle: death of a free festival veteran

Sid Rawle, a key figure in the free festival movement in the UK, died last month aged 64. His activism encompassed the Hyde Park Diggers in the late 1960s, the People’s Free Festival in Windsor Great Park (1972-4), the Stonehenge Free Festival (1976-84), the Peace Convoy and the Rainbow Village camp outside the planned cruise missiles base at RAF Molesworth (1984-5).

There's a very informative post by Andy Worthington at his site about Sid's life and times. As Andy says:

'Sid played a major part in the British counter-culture from the 1960s until his death, although he is, of course, best known for his involvement in the free festival movement, first at Windsor, from 1972 to 1974, and then at Stonehenge, until the violent suppression of the festival in 1985. The author and activist Jeremy Sandford (who died in 2003) described him as “the squatter to end them all, having squatted flats, houses, commons, forests, a village, boats, an island, an army camp, Windsor Great Park".'

Read Andy's full post, RIP Sid Rawle, Land Reformer, Free Festival Pioneer, Stonehenge Stalwart. See also Ian Bone, Turn Left at the Bridge. Not an uncontroversial figure, he was identified by the media as a leader of the hippies and his role in attempting to mediate with the authorities earned him criticism from some quarters - stilll, nobody can say he didn't try and make the world a more interesting place.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Ian Curtis (1956-1980)

Thirty years ago this week... Ian Curtis, 15 July 1956 – 18 May 1980. An industry of Manchester retro-mania and Killers cover versions still can't numb how radical Joy Division sound even today. Here's the famous 1978 first TV appearance, introduced by Tony Wilson.

'To the centre of the city, where all roads meet, waiting for you'
(Shadowplay)

Monday, May 10, 2010

London clubbers 1976 and 2010

Photographer Chris Steele-Perkins has a new book out, England my England, featuring 40 years of his documentary photography, with an exhibition to match at Northumbria University Gallery, Sandyford Road, Newcastle-upon-Tyne until 4th June. I haven't seen it, but will definitely try and check it out when it comes to London, opening at Kings Place, 90 York Way, London N1 9AG from 18th June to 30th July. Among the photographs I've seen are some really strong dance images. This one is of dancers at the Lyceum Ballroom in London 1976 (note the guy in the background in DMs):


ⓒ Chris Steele-PerkinsChris has previously published a collection on Teds and was present at the Lewisham 1977 anti-National Front protests.

Meanwhile Georgina Cook is continuing to do what she does best, documenting club scenes and other things she comes across in her wanderings from Croydon to Paris. I particularly like this one, taken at the Londinium warehouse rave on May Day at the Ewer Street car park on Great Suffolk Street, London SE1. It gives a real sense of that feeling of wandering through railway arches at a club. Lots more of her stuff at her Drumz of the South blog and flickr


ⓒ Georgina Cook

Monday, May 03, 2010

Hey there Georgy Girl - RIP Lynn Redgrave

RIP Lynn Redgrave - here she is in the great 1966 London movie Georgy Girl . The soundtrack song was by The Seekers.



And here she is dancing in the 1975 film The Happy Hooker. The song is One to One by Angela Clemmons.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Blair Peach, Southall and the Rasta folk devil

I posted last year on the 30th anniversary of the death of Blair Peach, killed during the anti-fascist demonstration in Southall, West London, on 23 April 1979. Papers finally released today by the Metropolitan Police show that they were well aware at the time that he must have been killed by the police Special Patrol Group, but nobody was ever charged.

There's a huge amount of material on the Met's site which I haven't had time to read through yet. One things I was struck by was an internal report to the Home Office written the day after by a Deputy Assistant Commissioner at New Scotland Yard. It gives the police account of the demonstration, which was called to oppose a National Front meeting in this largely Asian area (note that the NF chose St George's Day for its provocation, just as its successor the BNP chose the same day to launch its 2010 election manifesto last week).

The report is clearly an early exercise in putting together a police narrative that justified the violence used in what was to be described as a 'police riot'. For instance, it describes the notorious police assault on the People Unite centre, in which Misty in Roots manager Clarence Baker was put in a coma, as a defensive operation:

'A group of mainly rastafarians, squatting in a house in Park View Road, threw stones and smoke canisters at police. There were a number of police injuries and it was necessary for police to enter the building . There was considerable violence from those in occupation. Truncheons were used and there were injuries to the occupants and police -including two police officers who were stabbed. A variety of missiles were used, including paint which was thrown over police. Curry powder was thrown in policemen's faces'.

Interesting to see that the report invokes that 1970s 'black folk devil' (Gilroy) , the criminal Rastafarian - armed in this case with that most Unenglish of weapons - curry powder! Writing in that period, Paul Gilroy quoted some choice examples of anti-Rasta coverage in the British media. How about:

'Scotland Yard has alerted police forces in England and Wales about the infiltration threat by a West Indian mafia organisation called Rastafarians. It is an international crime ring specialising in drugs, prostitution, extortion, protection, subversion and blackmail... They favour red, high-powered cars, wear their hair in long rats tails under multi-coloured woollen caps and walk about with 'prayer sticks' -trimmed pick axe handles. They are known to police and intelligence organisations on both sides of the Atlantic as being active in organising industrial unrest' (Reading Evening Post, 1976, cited in Gilroy).

The notion of gangsters juggling global drug dealing with organising strikes seems hilarious now, but the consequences of these attitudes in legitimising repression against black youths were serious enough: 'Ideas of black criminality... intersect with racist common sense and, in that process, provide a wealth of justifications for illegitimate, discriminatory and of course illegal police practices at the grassroots level' (Paul Gilroy, Police and Thieves, included in Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies, The Empire Strikes Back: Race and Racism in 70s Britain, 1982).

Back to that same police report I quoted earlier we can find another example of the barely concealed racism of the period with a statement that 'the violence was mainly from Asian youths, who appeared quite often to lose complete control of their emotions'. Tied up in this is a whole discourse of over emotional foreigners, of Asian males as not quite real men (the main Cass report on Blair's death likewise refers to 'a little Indian man, bleeding').

The police might have got a bit more careful about their language, but pumped up cops from the TSG (successor to the SPG) are still a threat to life and limb as shown by the death last year of Ian Tomlinson.

More on this:


- The-sauce puts police names to some of the blacked out gaps in the documents released today.
- Chris Searle at the IRR remembers Blair Peach, recalling his earlier arrest in 1974 for opposing a racist colour bar at the Railway Tavern in Bow.
- Blue Murder - songs about police killings including Blair Peach, to which I'd like to add another. London Hooligan Soul by the Ballistic Brothers includes the line: 'Blair Peach a crying shame. The NF and unmarked police vans. Who is to blame?'.
- John Eden, an old post on Reggae and the National Front with more about Misty in Roots and Southall.


Flyer for a 1979 benefit gig at Trinity Hall, Bristol for the Southall Defence Fund and People Unite, featuring Revelation Rockers, Stingrays, and The Spics.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Malcolm McLaren: malevolence, subversion and style

'I was born Malcolm McLaren just after the war in 1946, a war baby, a baby boomer as my generation's come to be known, born on the cusp of change in a culture of necessity when you only consumed what you needed to survive; but by the dawn of the 1960s I arrived in a culture of desires when you only consumed what you didn't need to survive. My story is a story of greed, power, malevolence, subversion and with it heaps of style. To be frank it is the history of pop culture, albeit a personal and subjective one, that has taken up more than 50 years of my life and times'.

'The band's greatest moment may have been in 1977 during the Queen's Silver Jubilee. There was to be a Royal flotilla that would proceed down the Thames as the sky erupted with fireworks. I decided to create our flotilla with our own fireworks. We hired a boat. Funnily enough the boat was called the Queen Elizabeth and departed from Charing Cross Pier at about 6:30 in the evening. As the Sex Pistols played its version of God Save the Queen, loud, raucous, rude, our flotilla passed beneath the Thames bridges and the band's supporters swung from the lamposts, dropping pots of yoghurt I remember, cheering like mad groups of artful dodgers. I was arrested. Our portrait of the Queen with a safety pin through her nose was printed in the papers, and God Save the Queen became a best selling record. Even though it was banned not only from the radio but from most conventional consumer outlets'.


(say what you like about Malcolm McLaren but that Silver Jubilee moment was such a breath of fresh air. A rare, and entirely successful intervention against the dreadful royalist consensus of 1977. I was at school at that time and it was a real thrill reading about the exploits of the Pistols as I went about on my paper round. At a time of patriotic street parties and ubiquitous union jacks it felt like somebody was screaming NO, and the success of the record showed that they were far from being alone. Quotes from Malcolm on his BBC radio programme From the Forties to the Noughties. South Londonists see also Malcolm McLaren in New Cross).

Monday, March 29, 2010

South East of the Thames Border Infection Mix

Last week I took part in Border Infection, an event at Goldsmiths in New Cross themed around borders, migration and creativity. My contribution was to lead a radical history walk/talk around New Cross and Deptford. In the evening there was a party at the Amersham Arms, with the highlight a great DJ set by Ges-E and Osmani Soundz from Nasha records (Eastern-flavoured bassism). I also played a set, in effect a soundtrack after the fact to the walk, featuring music linked to the area - specifically stuff that could be placed on a loose South London bass continuum from 70s reggae to current UK funky. Here's my selection:

South East of the Thames Border Infection Mix - Neil Transpontine (download full mix here)

1. TT Ross - Imagine: released on Dennis Harris's Lovers Rock in 1978, the label that named a whole genre of soulful reggae. The label was based in Harris's studio at 13 Upper Brockley Road, SE4.

2. Johnny Osbourne -13 Dead: this and the next four tracks all relate to the 1981 New Cross Fire, when 13 young black people died in a house fire at 439 New Cross Road.

3. Sir Collins and His Mind Sweepers - New Cross Fire: Sir Collins - or Charlie Collins -was involved in the famous Four Aces club in Dalston. His son was DJing at the New Cross party and died in the fire. I have added a sample from a BBC news report in January 1981.

4. Roy Rankin & Raymond Naptali - New Cross Fire (1981): I have added a sample of Sybil Phoenix discussing racism in late 1970s and the setting up of the Moonshot Club in New Cross, youth club for young black people and scene of mass meetings in the aftermath of the fire.

5. Linton Kwesi Johnson -New Craas Massahkah.

6. Benjamin Zephaniah - 13 Dead and Nothing Said.

7. Mad Professor & Jah Shaka - Gautrey Road Style. The Mad Professor had his Ariwa studio at 42 Gautrey Road, SE15 in the 1980s. Jah Shaka was based in New Cross.

8. Brown Sugar - I'm in love with a Dreadlocks - another release on the Lovers Rock label from 1977, written by John Kpiaye, guitarist at Dennis Harris's studio, with Dennis Bovell as sound engineer. Brown Sugar included singers Kofi (later a solo artist) and Caron Wheeler (later of Soul II Soul).

9. Brinsley Forde - Can't tek no more of that - the sound of the closing scene of the great reggae sound system film Babylon, shot around Deptford and Brixton in 1979.

10. Dizzee Rascal - Can't tek no more - he's from East rather than South East London, even if his career took off via a Deptford studio, but since this track from last year's Tongue'n'Cheek album samples Babylon it's on the list.

11. Southside Allstars - Southside Riddim - this and the following two rap tracks offer a gritty realist take on South East London life, doing their bit to undermine gentrification by reminding everybody that the area has gangs and violence as well as estate agents!

12. Tinie Tempah - South East of the Thames

13. Blak Twang - Dettwork South East

14. Controlled Weirdness vs. Excentral Tempest -South London Bass/South East: my mix combining South London Bass by DJ Controlled Weirdness with South East, a rap by Excentral Tempest (now Kate Tempest).

15. Kyla - Do you Mind: a bit of an obvious funky anthem I know, this comes via Digital Holdings, the New Cross studio used by producers Crazy Cousinz. There's a continuity between Lovers Rock and UK Funky I think, expressing the soulful current of London bass culture as the flipside to the dread, beat an' blood current.

16. Leslee Lyrix - a short extract from the 1983 Ghettotone vs. Saxon sound system clash at Lewisham Boys Club, featuring Leslee Lyrix as Ghettotone MC. In his other guise as Dr William (Les) Henry he has published an essential book about sound system culture, What the Deejay Said: A Critique from the Street. Overlaid on this are samples from a short film, Voice for the Voiceless, made by some Goldsmiths students in 2008, with Les Henry and Les Back discussing the significance of sound systems and specifically nights in the Crypt at St Pauls in Deptford. I had a small role in this film, mainly supplying them with the soundtrack after a drink with the film makers in the New Cross Inn.




Voice for the Voiceless Uploaded by nickstreet83.

[the sound quality on the mix is variable, some of it ripped from vinyl and cassette and then thrown together on Audacity, but hope you'll agree that the content is all good... Also posted at Transpontine. Previous Agitdisco mix here]

Monday, February 15, 2010

ATV: 1978 interview

Alternative TV were one of the few signficant early British punk bands to to eschew the obvious music industry route of signing for a big label - indeed they avoided retricting themselves to the 'punk brand' and took various left turns into more experimental music and free festivals. In this November 1978 interview from the radical magazine The Leveller, Mark Perry of ATV - who also edited the famous punk zine 'Sniffin Glue - expounds on his DIY philosophy with Deptford Fun City records, EMI and class



Click on images to enlarge - I haven't transcribed the whole thing, but here's some sections:

How is it done at Deptford Fun City?
With ATV we go in and produce the record ourselves, cut it and get it pressed. That way, it you do it wrong it's all your own fault. I sit down and design the cover. We get the photos taken, nick a SLADE sticker. We organise and distribute the ads - all dwon the line. It's all about doing it yourself.

I don't worry about anything. Record companies make you worry, come up and say, 'Look I don't think there's a single there lads'. So you get these 18 year old kids going mad trying to make a hit single... and they've signed for five years.

Tom Robinson says he signed with EMI because he wanted to reach the largest possible audience.
We get to 5000 people on Deptford Fun City. Directly to them -crash. The profits come right back to us and we put it into the next record. We don't own oil wells and all that. Tom Robinsom sells 20 -30,000, making profits for EMI, which I don't think is a good thing. The people who really wanted it would've bought it anyway. You don't know what dastardly things people like EMI are into.

Why have you never done a Rock Against Racism gig?
There's a lot of bands doing it and I don't think it needs ATV. In the end it's down to if you enjoy a RAR gig and I never have. What we did enjoy was the SUS benefit in Deptford. SUS - the campaign against the vagrancy laws - was a little thing run by the blacks in the community. RAR's more of an organisation ... I went on the march, but didn't fancy the gig [Carnival]. What they're doing's great. But RAR needs a wham-bam, Generation X type band. And we're not like that. A band can't change the world. And I still think there'd have been a fair few there at the Carnival without any bands. No, playing for nothing and selling albums cheap are the positive productive things you can do for people.

And that's why you did the free tour with Here and Now, the squatter/hippie band from Ladbroke Grove?
Yeah, we went on the tour. They did 30 dates, we did 15 of them. They did us a good turn by organising it and we did them one by making an album of it, 'What you see is what you are', with them on one side and us on the other. It was funny like when we played at Stonehenge, quite a few punks came along and were really freaked out standing next to these long-haried hippes. Another free concert we did there were three bands - all playing for nothing -which isn't bad. This kid comes up to me 'What you playing with this bunch of hippies for? Why don't you play down the club?" I said 'Look you've saved a quid aint' you? Have a couple more drinks'.

You chose the name Alternative TV because that's what pisses you off more than anything, the brain-softening mass media?
Power is in the hands of those rich enough to buy it, especially in culture. Because if everybody was involved we'd all do it so much better. Look at kids in school bashing around in the music room, playing great music on cymbals and all that. Then when they get out of school, with all the trash put out on the radio, they forget about the music room. I think it's a shame. I played xylophone, violin, trombone at school. I'm still like that now. So-called hip kids are all guitarists - that's all they do. They play All Right Now, play solo just the way it is on record.

No, most people with the arts thing in their bonce know nothing about life, use it to buy white powder. The people who need it can't get it. I really hate Harpers & Queen - they went all through punk and decided it was finished. Five pages on my life and I hated those bastards. They don't know what it's all about. They're living in Chelsea with their rich Daddies. If they lived up the road from Mullins, a big factory in Deptford, with their Dad watching ITV, buying the Mirror and Sun ... They don't know about things like people having to find a flat, your Dad getting chucked out the docks 'cos the docks have closed.

Where do you live?
With my Mum and Dad in Deptford, where I was born.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Kate McGarrigle

Sad to hear that Kate McGarrigle has died, here's some nice footage from way back in 1977 of Kate & Anna singing 'Foolish You'. It's from their 1975 debut album which I have listened to a million times and could listen to a million times more.

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

World AIDS Day: We Salute the Disco Dead (2)

Following yesterday's World AIDS Day post, here's a few more of the HIV disco fallen remembered (thanks to Disco Delivery's twitter feed for reminders).

Walter Gibbons (1954-1994), Salsoul producer and DJ:



Jacques Morali (1947-1991), the man behind the Village People, he also wrote The Best Disco in Town for The Ritchie Family:



Paul Jabara (1948-1992):

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

World AIDS Day: We salute the disco dead

Today is World AIDS Day. Let's pause for a moment and remember some of the dance music greats who died from HIV/AIDS.

Sylvester (1947-88):



Mel Cheren and Michael Brody, founders of Paradise Garage:



David Cole, (1963–1995) of C+C Music Factory:


Arthur Russell, (1951–1992):


Sharon Redd, (1945–1992):



Dan Hartman (1950–1995):


Patrick Cowley (1950-1982):



Tony de Vit (1957-1998):



Ofra Haza (1957-2000)



See also: We Salute the Disco Dead 2