Wildcat benefit at AMP, Covent Garden (1974) - with Charlie Gillett and members of Henry Cow

I am always interested in the social/cultural/musical life of radical scenes, here's a report of a London benefit night for the mid 1970s anarchist/libertarian left paper 'Wildcat' (no direct connection to 1980s ultra-left paper I believe). This report is from issue no.2 of the paper, October 1974. Sounds like an interesting line up including music from Lindsay Cooper and Fred Frith from Henry Cow with flautist Clive Bell, and DJing from Charlie Gillett and 'Pete's disco'. All this plus a performance from General Will, a radical theatre company that started out in Bradford and whose members included Brian Hibbard, later lead singer with the Flying Pickets.

The event took place at the Art Meeting Place, which I believe to have been at 48 Earlham Street, Covent Garden. It opened in 1974 and Cosey Fanni Tutti and Genesis P. Orridge were involved with it - indeed they first used the name Throbbing Gristle there. Cosey describes it in her book 'Art Sex Music' (2017):

'The shift in direction to COUM being mainly me and Gen also coincided with my leaving full-time work and connecting with other artists at the Art Meeting Place... AMP, as it was known, was set up by John Sharkey (along with others) in one of the buildings left vacant from the relocation of the Covent Garden fruit, veg and flower market. Other buildings had also been opportunistically acquired by activists for use as community centres and alternative arts spaces. AMP was a kind of Arts Lab that provided free facilities for artists across the spectrum - musicians, poets, film-makers - and was run by the artists themselves, with open meetings every week, exhibitions and performances. Me and Gen became regulars there, using their resources and trying out ideas in the available spaces-  as did Anish Kapoor, Carolee Schneemann, John Latham, David Medalla, David Toop and Susan Hiller among others.

Participating in the meetings was always interesting, watching people getting antsy with each other over art or politics, or art being a political act, feminism and Marxism. Some people had great ideas and ideals to uphold but there were time-wasters whose posturing made me angry and I got the sense that they didn't fully appreciate what an amazing thing AMP was'.

Flyer for 'Tracking' - performance and films by American artist Carolee Schneemann at the Artists Meeting Place in June 1974.

Miners Strike Memories: Durham Miners Rally 1984

Technically there was no Durham Miners Gala in 1984 - instead on the day the Gala would normally take place there was a miners strike rally in the city. Many of the Gala elements were still present on Saturday July 14th 1984 - a parade through the town with banners from miners' union branches, marching brass bands and speeches at the Durham racecourse, with not a little drinking. The mood was angry, determined and at this point still hopeful just a few months into the strike.

This report is from the north east of England paper 'The Sunday Sun' (15 July 1984):

'Durham looked like a city under siege yesterday as town centre pubs stayed closed and shops shuttered. But the mass invasion of miners from all over the country to take part in the biggest protest  march in the pit dispute turned out to be fairly peaceful affair. Police kept a low profile and, despite  some rowdy behaviour by a young element, there were only three arrests for disorderly conduct and obstruction.

About 10,000 people took part In a march through the  city that replaced the traditional gala celebrations, cancelled by Durham Miners' Association in a cost-cutting move because of the dispute.

Banners were paraded by contingents from every  British coalfield, but pride of place at the head of the parade - led by Bearpark and Esh Colliery Band - was the Bearpark banner. The pit, the smallest in the Durham coalfield, closed for good in the early days of the strike because reserves were exhausted. Another banner that passed by to loud cheers was that of Cortonwood Lodge-  the pit whose threatened closure sparked off the strike.

Trouble flared briefly in Durham's market square when about 50 youths clashed with police after the rally. Bottles and beer cans were thrown and three arrests were made as extra police arrived  on the scene.

There was an amazing scene when a bronzed teenage girl ran across the square with the back of her black-and-white frock torn  away exposing her bare bottom. She was last seen running along the riverside'.

I don't remember the latter episode, which seems an odd thing to report in the paper. But I was there, drinking cider and gravitating towards the 'rowdy young element' scuffling with police as was my wont at the time. I recorded in my diary: 'We sat in the market square there were about 50 people there, mainly young miners. We sang anti-police songs, eventually the cops lost their sense of humour and moved in to arrest somebody. A fight ensued'. Apart from that my main memory is of the rally at the end. Peter Heathfield and Arthur Scargill from National Union of Mineworkers spoke, but when Labour Party leader Neil Kinnock came to the platform a lot of miners turned their back on him and headed out of the park rather than listen to him, disgusted by what they saw as the Labour leadership's half hearted support for the strike.

'A priest and some punks in debate after the speeches at the rally'

Following report is from The Miner (July 1984), the NUM's newspaper: 'Tens of thousands turned up to register a single, cast iron Geordie pledge on what is traditionally the Labour movements proudest day: The North East of England is rock solid and would only be content with a 101 per cent miners' victory in defence of jobs and communities'.

There's some very evocative uncut film footage from the day at the Yorkshire Film Archive  reminding me of some of the visual elements of the strike, not just banners but hats covered in badges and the ubiquitous yellow 'coal not dole stickers'. The sounds of the strike too, colliery brass bands and people chanting 'Maggie Maggie Maggie, Out Out Out!' and singing 'we shall not be moved'.

From the film: 'Whittle Miners Wives Support Group - Coal Not Dole'. Whittle Colliery in County Durham closed in 1987.

[post last updated 10/8/2022 with addition of report from 'The Miner']

See previously:

'Sound of police truncheon against body': David Peace's miners strike soundscape

Miners demo in Mansfield 1984

Miners support in Kent

The 'Here we go' chant

What did you do in the strike - my mix of music from the strike

Farewell Mark Astronaut

photo from Astronauts on facebook

Sad to hear of the death this week of Mark Astronaut (Mark Wilkins). I saw his band The Astronauts a number of times in the mid-1980s playing at anarcho-punk gigs, I believe for the first time at the Blockers Arms in Luton in February 1985 which I noted in my diary: 'really good, songs a bit like the early Bowie meets The Mob with a sense of humour, e.g. 'this one's about urban disintegration - it's also about darts'.  Also remember a gig in Mark's home town of Welwyn Garden City, again with Karma and Hertford indie-poppers The McTells and at various squat gigs in London. 

The Astronauts kept at it with various line ups from the later 1970s through to this year, to those in the know Mark was one of the great lost songwriters but they were perhaps too unique to fit in with any particular scene.  On the anarcho-punk scene for instance their folky melodies were a bit of an anomaly, though All the Madmen records did release their great 'It's All Done by Mirrors' album in 1983. 

image from discogs

Like many bands in that period they played various benefit gigs including one  with the Redskins for striking miners at  Welwyn's Woodhall Community Centre in 1984. Earlier in 1979, under the name Restricted Hours, they had contributed to a Stevenage Rock Against Racism EP

image from Discogs

Last year in November I went to one of my first post-Covid gigs at the New Cross Inn in SE London, to see another set of anarcho-punk survivors Zounds supported by Hagar the Womb. I saw a long haired figure with a covid mask on and immediately recognised Mark Astronaut who I hadn't seen for 30 years. He joined Zounds on stage for a guest vocal on You Can't Cheat Karma, and I chatted to him briefly afterwards before he headed off to get his train back to Welwyn. He told me that the Astronauts had some gigs coming up and that a book about him was coming out soon - I haven't got round to getting a copy yet of Survivors - 45 years of the Astronauts, but by all accounts its a great history not just of the band but of the punk/alternative scenes around his part of the world. 

Mark Astronaut with Zounds at New Cross Inn in November 2021

I went to see The Astronauts at Club 85 in Hitchin only a few weeks ago, playing with Blyth Power and Pog. They were great, nobody knew then that would be one of his last gigs. So long and thank you Peter Pan of the suburbs.

The Astronauts at Club 85 in Hitchin in May 2022

 

See also

https://thehippiesnowwearblack.org.uk/2022/07/11/mark-wilkins-founder-member-and-frontman-of-the-astronauts-dies/

London Makhnovist Centre squat in Fleet Street

A group of Ukrainian anarchist squatters have occupied their second building in London. The London Makhnovists Centre at 187 Fleet Street opened on 18th June 2022 with a fundraiser gig for victims of the war in Ukraine.

In a statement at their website the group say 'Make Solidarity Louder than Bombs. We occupy this property in protest against the war in Ukraine and those who profit from it.... We're going to gather around art, culture and dancing as a way to direct funding to refugee aid at the Ukrainian border'

Banners outside read 'Power breeds parasites, long live anarchy!' and #fucktorygarchs

In March the same group took over a London mansion  in Belgrave Square belonging to Russian billionaire Oleg Deripaska, and were evicted by riot police.

[Top four photos taken by me, Tuesday 28 June 2022, statement and bottom two photos from London Makhnovists website]

Glastonbury CND Festival 1982

During the 1980s - starting in fact with the 1981 festival - Glastonbury was explicitly a festival for the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. Festival founder Michael Eavis was active in CND at this time, a movement in resurgence as a result of rising Cold War tensions. As he explained “1981 was the year I decided to join up with the CND (Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament). I’d already been involved with them locally after somebody had found a secret bunker in the Mendip Hills which was guarded by soldiers with guns. Everyone was very worried about that; it was all top secret, but we wanted to know what was going on in our area, so we formed a local CND group in Shepton. Emily (Michael’s daughter) being born in 1979 also had a lot to do with me getting involved with the CND. I felt a great need to protect her, because she was so tiny. She really made me think, ‘I’m not going to let her get blown up by a cruise missile!’

The 1982 festival line up included Van Morrison, Jackson Browne, U2, Steel Pulse, Aswad and Judy Tzuke. The festival site was buzzed for a while by a hostile plane from the Tory-front organisation the Coalition for Peace through Security. Tories have never really got Glastonbury have they? Remember in 2015 when David Cameron said that he liked watching Glastonbury at TV at home 'in front of a warm fire' (in June!).

This report by Ross Bradshaw from Peace News, 9 July 1982, covers all the perennial delights and contradictions -  mud, commerce vs. mutual aid, worries about the crowd being too old

PEACE N' DRUGS 'N' ROCK 'N' ROLL

Fifty thousand people came, and £50,000 was raised for CND at the Glastonbury festival. What else can you say really... good time was had by all-wish you were there.

I was a bit nervous since it was 10 years since I last went to a rock festival, but the swamp-like consistency of the festival site helped strip away those inhibitions. You've just got to smile at strangers when every wellington-boot step is making a "gloop-gloop" sound in the mud.

Most of the crowd were 30ish; presumably the draw of Van Morrison, Jackson Browne and (the expected surprise appearance of) Roy Harper brought in the "ageing hippies against the bomb". Or maybe that's the normal festival crew.

Anyway, good music. But is it politics? Well squirming in the mud, then baking in the sun and the early morning queue for water does seem a long way from the CND committee meeting. And the sweet smell of marijuana smoke may not be as revolutionary as perhaps we first thought. Maybe we shouldn't really be shouting "More, more!" at the distant superstars on stage for them to come back for their planned encore. And in the market place the capitalists (albeit hip capitalists) were doing brisker business than the, stalls of Peace News, Freedom, and the alternative

bookshops.

But wait... the children's world with giant wooden ships, a castle, clowns, puppets, theatre and care-point all free.

And more theatre and free cinema for adults. And no police. Fifty thousand people and no police - or anyone else for that matter - to tell us what to do. Did standards fall, did a little bit of western-civilisation-as-we-know-it crumble?Thankfully, yes. Mutual aid, as it always does when people are left to themselves, put in an appearance. Food was  shared, people entertained themselves, lost children were found, stuck vans were pushed out of the mud and when it  as all over people gave each other lifts home. Order but no laws. No chaos, just some anarchy. Glastonbury is  D's biggest fundraiser, the Kremlin gold evidently having trouble getting through customs. Fortunately the Festival  people avoided the trap of feeding politics at their captive audience all the time. There were a few speakers (none of whom I heard), a CND tent (which was well supported), a few workshops and a variety of anti-nuclear films  including The War Game for those activists who can't go a weekend without seeing it. In general the politics/music  balance was fine.

Finally just a few words about the opposition. Presumably unable to find enough people to give out leaflets, the  Coalition for Peace through Security treated us to an air show. A plane trailing an anti-CND banner buzzed the site for an hour or two, rather like a nasty wasp that won't go away. I did hear the rumour that they were to be prosecuted for dangerous low flying, but it can't be true since these chaps woudn't break the law. Wonder what they'll do next year.

(old copy of Peace News found in the excellent 56a InfoShop archive) 

This is part of an ongoing series on the 1980s peace movement. See also:

Marching against megadeath - June 22 1980 in London

The first march against nuclear missiles at Greenham Common,  September 1980

CND Reborn - the Protest and Survive demonstration in London, October 1980

Glastonbury CND Festival 1982

'Women Choose, Don't Argue!' - punks protest against anti-abortion bill 1979

In 1979, Conservative MP John Corrie introduced a private member's bill aiming to restrict abortion rights. In the climate of New Right ascendancy marked in Britain by the election of Margaret Thatcher in that year there were real fears that this would become law and a campaign was launched against the Corrie Bill.  The biggest event was a massive demonstration in London in October 1979 called by the Trades Union Congress and the National Abortion Campaign. In the event Corrie did not succeed in getting his bill through parliament and the 1967 Abortion Act remained intact.

Here's extracts from a couple of reports of the demo highlighting the role of (post) punk bands. 

Lucy Toothpaste:

Get up, eat my porridge, put on my feminist radical chic (or do I mean my radical feminist chic?), anyway, put on my loud yellow coat, fluorescent socks, sensible shoes etc. etc., select a thoughtful cluster of badges for the occasion and set off. Climb on the bus, discover that all the other passengers are wearing those hideous pink 'March for Abortion Rights October 28' badges too. Meet more of the same at Finsbury Park tube.

It looks like everybody in London is going on this march; it makes you feel you actually belong to a community for once. At Marble Arch they've got about twelve extra ticket collectors to cope with the throng. It's striking that despite the defensive nature of the campaign – instead of being any nearer to extending access to abortion, here we go again, trying to hold on by the skin of our teeth to the meagre provisions of the '67 Act – despite this, the atmosphere is so festive.

It's cold but the sun is streaming down, and I'm not the only one in party clothes. Demonstrations have never been the same since the anti-nazi carnivals. Old and young, gay and straight, and trade unionists and all their friends and relations have poured in on coaches from all over the country

Punks hover round the Rock Against Racism truck which is jerking along to the rhythms of the Gang of Four, Mekons and Delta Five (yelping songs like 'Can I interfere in your crisis? No mind your own business!'). Me and my friends finally leave the Park (after about a two hour wait, and we're nowhere near the end of the march) with the feminist all-stars on the Rock Against Sexism lorry. We dance all the way from Park Lane to Trafalgar Square, and all join in singing (except that my voice has mysteriously done a bunk and I can only mime) Lottie & Ada's ditty to the tune of 'I've got a brand new pair of roller skates':

'I've got a brand new Private Member's Bill

Guess what it's going to be

I'm going to make sure lots of women

Remember John Corrie'

By the time we reach Trafalgar Square it's too full to hold any more people, and as it's turned very grey and cold we're glad of an excuse to slope off to the cafe for tea...

Over 50,000 people marched against the Corrie Bill, differing as our political affiliations may be, but all agreeing that it threatens us with substantial risk of serious injury. The bill restricts the time limit and approved grounds for abortion, and decimates the abortion charities, with the aim of reducing legal abortion by two-thirds.

Some see it mainly as a class issue, because even when abortions are illegal, richer women have usually managed to get them done without too much trouble, and it's working-class women who are forced into the danger and humiliation of the backstreets.

Some see it as fundamentally a women's issue, part of the international fight for control over our fertility: If we get pregnant, it's women who have to bear the consequences, so it must be our decision whether to have an abortion or not, rather than that of doctors, priests or MPs. We are demanding not only free access to abortion, but also really safe and effective contraception, and an end to forced sterilization and experimentation on black and brown people in the name of population control.

Some see it above all as part of the fight to determine our sexuality. Thousands of lesbians and gay men were on the march, not just in solidarity, but to point out that an attack on abortion rights is an attack on everybody's right to enjoy sex for its own sake, without guilt and without fear, whether or not we intend to have children.

By the time you read this, some version of Corrie's bill will probably have passed into law . But we won't stop fighting until we get Complete Control'.

Kate Webb:

'In the new climate of this past year, one of rock's most concrete political achievements for women has been the contribution made to the Anti-Corrie Bill Campaign. Temporary Hoarding described the demo on 28 October last year as 'The most vociferous, musical and non-boring demo in the history of the world'

Hundreds of mad joggers dancing along side the Rock Against Sexism truck while hurtled down Park Lane, carrying assorted members of Delta 5, Mekons and Gang of Four blasting out assorted variations of their songs, all under the wonderful Day-Glo banner which proclaimed WOMEN CHOOSE DON'T ARGUE!

It was all too much for the inhabitants of the Playboy Club. They called in the cops to come and line up outside for fear of being attacked by this wild bunch of pogoing punks, expectant mums and mad musicians. And they might well have been, if we hadn't been too busy enjoying ourselves. It was an occasion when one of those boring old 'Against Them' demos turned into a celebration of what we are. Our Bodies and Our Culture and Our Music'.

[from The Book of the Year', edited by David Widgery (Ink Links, 1980)

The Wellcome collection has an online archive of material from the anti-Corrie campaign

Marching against megadeath - June 22 1980 in London

Peter Kennard's design for the flyer/poster

The announcement of the deployment of a new generation of US nuclear weapons in Europe, coupled with increasing tension between NATO and the Soviet Union, led to a mass peace movement across the West in the early 1980s. In England the first major demonstration against these cruise missiles was called by the Labour Party on June 22 1980, during a brief period when the leadership of the Party were voicing opposition to nuclear weapons.

Around 25,000 people marched in the pouring rain from London's South Bank to Hyde Park.  Speakers included veteran peace campaigner Fenner Brockway,  soon to be Labour leader Michael Foot and the actor Susannah York who told the crowd,  'I refused to accept that 25,000 people here today are one fortieth of a megadeath. I am not a millionth of a megadeath. We are ourselves'.  

The image of the megadeath and mass nuclear destruction haunted the nightmares of young people like myself getting involved in this new peace movement and recurs across popular culture in this period. In its report of the demo, Socialist Challenge noted that 'One of the most striking features of the demonstration was the high proportion of young people who turned out. Groups of friends carried home-made placards calling for an end to war: "Fall in against fallout", "Education not Missiles", "Wage War on Weapons", "Germ Warfare means Nightmare".

'I won't die for Thatcher - stop cruise missiles' badge. According to Socialist Challenge (26/6/1980), 2,000 of these were sold to marchers. The badge was available from Hackney Socialist Education Group.

Socialist Challenge, 12 June 1980

Socialist Challenge front page for the demo - demanding 'Give up NATO', which was not the position of the Labour Party organisers

This is part of an ongoing series on the 1980s peace movement. See also:

The first march against nuclear missiles at Greenham Common,  September 1980

CND Reborn - the Protest and Survive demonstration in London, October 1980

Glastonbury CND Festival 1982

[I am not a particular fan of Socialist Challenge/International Marxist Group but the online archive of this paper is a good source of news on social movements in the period. If you come across other reports of this demo let me know]

'Being a clubber felt special' - Dom Phillips' 1990s Mixmag

Terrible to hear of the murder of Dom Phillips and Bruno Pereira in Brazil - not just an isolated act of violence but a moment in a brutal war against those trying to protect the Amazon and those living in it, encouraged by president Bolsonaro and enabled by his global far right backers.

All a long way from the 1990s when Dom made his name as editor of Mixmag magazine, the biggest and most popular of the dance music magazines of that time with a circulation reaching up to 80,000 a month. It might not have always been the coolest, steering as it did towards the mainstream of UK clubbing, documenting and itself accelerating the growth of mega club brands and big name DJs. This was a phenomenon Phillips himself was to write about in his 2009 book 'Superstar DJs Here We Go!':  'From 1992, when acid house moved into legal venues, until 2000, this was the era of superstar DJs and superclubs. A generation gleefully lost itself in a maelstrom of disco euphoria and house music and clubbing became the defining sound and lifestyle of 1990s Britain'.

Mixmag featured interviews with DJs, musicans and producers, but Dom Phillips clearly realised that it was the clubbing experience itself that was central and the diverse clubbers who were the real stars. The mid-1990s 'were the golden years of 1990s clubbing, when you could meet anyone and be anyone, when the most unlikely networks of people were formed, criss-crossing the country. Club after club sprouted up in drab northern and Midland cities, little blooms of colour and life. Being a clubber felt special. It was about belonging. And for many clubbers, that sense of identity was a huge part of the lifestyle... Clubbing felt like a big, happy party that went on and on' (note by this time people tended to identify as clubbers, hardly anybody was calling themselves a raver).

Those buying the magazine wanted to have their amazing nights out reflected back at them and to see people like themselves dressed up, dancing and ecstatically happy.  And this is what Mixmag offered, as in these examples from one issue (September 1997). A piece 'What are you proud of? captures people at the Pride festival on Clapham Common, as well as 'Goodbye Cruel World' in Leicester, Equinox in Wilmslow, The Leadmill in Sheffield and a Reclaim the Streets party in Nottingham.

Another article was based around the premise of photographing/interviewing people boarding a flight to Ibiza and then doing the same a week later when they returned. We see 'speed garage queens' Leanne and Michelle from Bexleyheath heading off for a 'club marathon'

All of this reflected Phillips' mission for Mixmag: 'Clubland was a broad church and I wanted all these different voices, clamouring at the tops of their voices, tumbling out of the pages of the magazine'. Around this time even I had a column in the magazine (Back in the Day) for a little while where I managed to squeeze in snippets of radical history such as the Stonewall riots and the origins of Notting Hill carnival.

Mixmag, September 1997 - Goldie is the cover star, Bjork also interviewed inside

[click on images to enlarge]

Dom Phillips, 1964-2022. Rest in Power

All quotes from Dom Phillips, 'Superstar DJs Here We Go!: The Rise and Fall of the Superstar DJ' (2009) 

See also obituary in Mixmag by David Davies

'Low Class foreigners' and men dancing with men: Police raid Italian club in Soho (1900)

A police raid on an Italian-run club in Soho in 1900 led to fighting with police outside and the proprietors being jailed.

The Co-operative Club was at 2 Little Dean Street and was raided at one o'clock in the morning where around 100 people were drinking and 'dancing to piano music'. Previously 'dancing had been seen going on, men sometimes dancing with men, and very bad language had been heard in the place. All the men found there were low-class foreigners'. During the raid a 'disturbance took place' outside and 10 people were arrested - one for assaulting a constable (Evening Standard 31 July 1900)

Francesco Covini, the alleged club proprietor, and  Sebastian Cordori, a waiter, were charged with 'keeping a common, ill-governed and disorderly house'. They were jailed for 12 months and 6 months respectively (London Evening Standard, 10 August 1900)

Rwanda 'Stop the Plane' deportations protest

Demonstration on Wednesday 9 June 2022 at Rwandan embassy in London (Seymour Place W1H) protesting against UK government plans to start deporting asylum seekers there. The first forced flight is planned on 14th June. This does feel like a real turning point in British politics, with the Conservative Party implementing the far right slogan of the 1970s of 'sending them back to Africa', even if they never came from there in the first place. 

 Follow @Care4Calais & @followMFJ on twitter and instagram for news of planned protests  -and join in. This is not a drill.