tag:theconversation.com,2011:/africa/topics/punk-8673/articlesPunk – The Conversation2023-08-15T14:43:03Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2115412023-08-15T14:43:03Z2023-08-15T14:43:03ZJamie Reid: the defiant punk art of the man behind the Sex Pistols’ iconic imagery<p>The death of graphic designer and activist <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2023/aug/13/jamie-reid-obituary-sex-pistols-design">Jamie Reid</a> earlier this month was a huge loss for both the design community and the political left. Right until his death, Reid made incendiary works that incessantly attacked the political status quo.</p>
<p>Announcing his passing, his family and gallerist James Marchant released a <a href="https://www.punknews.org/article/80643/inmemoriam-jamie-reid-has-passed-away">joint statement</a> describing him as an “artist, iconoclast, anarchist, punk, hippie, rebel and romantic”. This eulogy doubles as a shorthand for the anarcho-punk design language he weaponised throughout his career.</p>
<p>For most people, Reid’s legacy will probably be the posters and LP covers he designed for the Sex Pistols. This work is now synonymous with punk and has been imitated to the point of cliche. </p>
<p>Its ubiquity has diluted its potency. However, to his contemporaries, Reid’s cut-and-paste style was immediately recognisable as an affectionate homage to the DIY production techniques of punk fanzines. This art was born from necessity to give voice to those silenced in 1970s Britain and beyond. In his death, its important to remember the breadth and power of Reid’s work.</p>
<h2>Punk aesthetics</h2>
<p>The Sex Pistols single <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqrAPOZxgzU&ab_channel=SexPistolsVEVO">God Save the Queen</a> (1977) was a <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/03007760802053104?casa_token=OSE4FcrTaIgAAAAA%3A2zTI05vgiTgvyyZoku4GELIQAGuRR8hDDb3harFAHWnxiqbfOpBf_pFNU2Rk4MhoQTZxUjBobA_y">riposte to the national anthem</a>. Reid’s artwork for the single was deliberately designed to intervene within the nationalist tub-thumping which surrounded the Queens’ silver jubilee in the same year.</p>
<p>His cover for the 7" single release looked like a defaced postage stamp or commemorative mug. It depicted the Queen with her eyes and mouth obscured by the band’s name and track title. </p>
<p>Reid used a collage style of typography that resembled the sort used by terrorists and kidnappers within ransom letters. This added a threatening undertone of regicide and insurgency to the image. Then, as now, it is illegal to <a href="https://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/Geo5/18-19/13/section/12">deface banknotes</a> or <a href="https://www.oxford-royale.com/articles/6-myths-realities-british-law/">threaten treason</a>. Reid’s design did both. </p>
<p>This style is in the tradition of punk zines, which were reproduced on the office photocopiers of those lucky enough to have jobs in 1970s, depression-ravaged Britain. The irregular typography and grainy monochrome finish of zines was a defiant counter to the corporate polish of mainstream media.</p>
<p>As in the work of pop artist <a href="https://theconversation.com/andy-warhols-marilyn-monroe-portraits-expose-the-darker-side-of-the-60s-181213">Andy Warhol</a>, the Queen’s portrait is reproduced from a newspaper image. However, Reid’s work is far more subversive and sinister than the cool, detachment of pop art. </p>
<p>In the 1970s, newspapers used thick black banners in photographs as a primitive – and largely ineffective – way of disguising the identity of alleged criminals and those caught in the web of sleazy celebrity sex scandals. Reid’s use of this visual device, which symbolically dragged a supposedly heavenly ordained monarch into the gutter of tabloid journalism, is delicious satire. </p>
<h2>Symbolic guerrilla warfare</h2>
<p>For the subcultural theorist <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Subculture-The-Meaning-of-Style/Hebdige/p/book/9780415039499">Dick Hebdige</a>, punk was a form of symbolic “guerrilla warfare”. What he meant was that punks fought through words and images, rather than bullets and bombs. The power of punk resided in the way it repurposed, distorted and even defiled everyday objects and images with a monstrous, oppositional subcultural language.</p>
<p>Like the tactics of anarchist street militia, which often employed <a href="https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/sub-media-what-is-direct-action">direct action</a> and <a href="https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/emile-pouget-sabotage">sabotage</a>, the visual politics of punk were ad-hoc and opportunistic. To paraphrase, Hebdige, they both utilised whatever crude materials were available to get the job done. </p>
<p>With little disposable income, punks stole lavatory chains, safety pins and razor blades and wore them as grotesque jewellery. Like Reid’s anarchic collages, this counterfeit, rebellious style simultaneously critiqued consumerism and the prevailing social conventions of beauty and taste.</p>
<p>Beyond punk, Reid’s true legacy is a lifetime of artistic and political activism. </p>
<p>One of his earliest projects was an underground publication called <a href="https://www.artsy.net/artwork/jamie-reid-suburban-press-poster-book-box-set">Suburban Press</a> (1971). This was influenced by both anarchism and the French revolutionary avant-garde organisation <a href="https://monoskop.org/Situationist_International">The Situationist International</a>. Suburban Press also printed material for the Black Panthers and prisoner’s rights organisations.</p>
<p>Repeatedly, Reid aligned himself alongside the socially marginalised. Usually, in a collective struggle against the political establishment. This is self-evident within <a href="https://johnmarchantgallery.com/jra">repeated artworks</a> which denounce repressive <a href="https://eyeondesign.aiga.org/seminal-punk-designer-jamie-reid-on-politics-pussy-riot-practical-magic/">Conservative Party legislation</a>.</p>
<p>In solidarity with singer Boy George’s campaign against the anti-homosexuality <a href="https://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/1988/9/section/28/enacted">Clause 28 legislation </a>(1988), Reid depicted the gender fluid singer as a <a href="https://johnmarchantgallery.com/jra">Renaissance cherub of holy love</a>. </p>
<p>He also produced a poster in support of the <a href="https://jacobin.com/2021/06/red-wedge-uk-labour-party-80s-youth-vote-bragg-weller-kinnock-political-concerts">UK Red Wedge movement</a>. This was a campaign among musicians and activists to turn people towards socialist politics.</p>
<p>Reid’s image depicted then-prime minister Margaret Thatcher as a malevolent demon casting a dark shadow over Britain. Both Red Wedge and Reid’s image reference a famous revolutionary poster by Russian Constructivist artist El Lissitsky called <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beat_the_Whites_with_the_Red_Wedge">Beat the Whites with the Red Wedge (1919)</a>. This symbolises the Russian Revolution of 1917 a red triangle splintering the old order. Conversely, the black wedge depicted in Reid’s image is a Thatcherite void sucking the life of the nation.</p>
<p>In his recent satirical works about post-Brexit Britain, you could see how his anarchic collages channelled the <a href="https://libcom.org/article/dada-short-history#:%7E:text=The%20movement%20revolted%20against%20power,a%20lesser%20or%20greater%20extent.">avant-garde spirit of Dada</a>. This was an interwar movement, which made visual art and performances that protested against the insanity of war and capitalist society. Dada artists like Hannah Höch and Raoul Hausmann pioneered photo-montage and collage techniques that were an obvious influence on Reid.</p>
<p>Reid was also a passionate environmentalist. He campaigned against the state and English Heritage on behalf of druidic groups <a href="https://l-13.org/product/jamie-reid-enough-is-enough-night-day-screen-print/">demanding access to Stonehenge on the Solstice</a>. More recently, he supported climate activists <a href="https://l-13.org/product/jamie-reid-enough-is-enough-night-day-screen-print/">Extinction Rebellion</a>.</p>
<p>As Jamie Reid understood, anarchism champions individual freedoms against all forms of tyranny. To borrow the words of French philosopher <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/26284711">Michel Foucault</a>, I would argue that Reid’s work represents the “art of living, counter to all forms of fascism”. This would be a fitting epitaph, especially fly-posted over his grave in ransom note typography.</p>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Richard Hudson-Miles does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The collage artist fought many causes with his work and his style became synonymous with the struggle against tyranny and the mainstream.Richard Hudson-Miles, Senior Lecturer in Critical and Contextual Studies, Leeds Beckett UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2105542023-07-28T00:55:53Z2023-07-28T00:55:53ZCaptivating and cathartic, a visionary and a truth-teller: playing Sinéad O'Connor’s music was my education<p>Sinéad O'Connor was well known for her deeply emotional voice, her outspoken stance on political issues – especially her <a href="https://edition.cnn.com/2023/07/27/entertainment/sinead-oconnor-pope-photo-intl-scli/index.html">critique of the Catholic Church</a> – and her explorations of spiritualism and religion, but what I want to talk about, mostly, was her extraordinary songwriting. </p>
<p>O'Connor’s first two albums The Lion and the Cobra (1987) and I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got (1990) made a huge impression on me when I was just starting to get into music and songwriting in my last year of high school. </p>
<p>I cottoned onto these records a bit late (I was in Year 12 in 1993) but sometimes quality things take a while to filter through to suburban teenage Australian minds. Those records cut right through the other stuff I was listening to: guitar bands with men mostly. </p>
<p>O'Connor’s music was different. </p>
<p>Here was music that focused right in on the voice and the lyrics. Music that told stories full of detail and delivered with sadness and tenderness and anger. </p>
<p>O'Connor was a visionary and a truth-teller. But she was also an important songwriter. She was a highly thoughtful and supple artist who was able to craft songs that combined observational detail, emotional heft and an ethical conscience. </p>
<p>Her songs always felt personal, rather than preachy. </p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/sinead-oconnor-a-troubled-soul-with-immense-talent-and-unbowed-spirit-210489">Sinéad O'Connor: a troubled soul with immense talent and unbowed spirit</a>
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<h2>A particular kind of passion</h2>
<p>I think I probably first heard O'Connor because a girl at my school would play the song Troy on guitar and it was amazing. Troy was the first single from the first album, but did not become a huge hit. </p>
<p>But it was always a cult favourite – a six minute micro-opus about the end of a relationship – with the kind of opening that put you right there in the moment: </p>
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<p>I remember it <br>
Dublin in a rainstorm <br>
Sitting in a long grass in summer <br>
Keeping warm. </p>
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<p>And then the allusion to epic Greek myth. What was this!? </p>
<p>On Troy, O'Connor’s amazing voice was so apparent. Tender and lilting at the beginning with shades of traditional Irish folk singing, and then, out of the blue, shockingly angry. </p>
<p>I don’t think any other singer-songwriter performed anger so well. It was captivating and cathartic. </p>
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<p>I suppose I must have seen the video for Nothing Compares 2 U around this time – it was everywhere – but really it was some of the other songs on her second album that connected with me. Especially the songwriting. </p>
<p>The Last Day of Our Acquaintance was just such vivid, plain writing: </p>
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<p>This is the last day of our acquaintance <br>
I’ll meet you later in somebody’s office</p>
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<p>Very adult stuff for a 17-year-old, but I think that was also part of the appeal. This seemed like serious, grown-up songwriting, full of a particular kind of passion. </p>
<p>Also, it was just two chords so I could learn how to play it. </p>
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<p>Black Boys on Mopeds managed to weave political commentary into something much more personal. The song addressed police brutality aimed at black British youth, but connected this to both global politics and issues closer to home in Ireland. </p>
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<p>Margaret Thatcher on TV <br>
Shocked by the deaths that took place in Beijing <br>
It seems strange that she should be offended <br>
The same orders are given by her. </p>
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<p>O'Connor’s ability to contrast the personal detail with big picture politics was second to none and such a fine feature of her songwriting. </p>
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<p>Emperor’s New Clothes rocked more, and became one of her better-known, radio-friendly songs, but was still full of great observant songwriting that resonated so much. “How could I possibly know what I want when I was only 21?” she sang.</p>
<p>I learnt to play these songs, and would play them all the time. They were an amazing education. </p>
<p>What connects these songs as a whole is their attention to detail and their compelling combination of fury and sadness, something that runs through the early period of her music.</p>
<h2>Courage and insight</h2>
<p>It was later, as I grew older, that I realised how extra-remarkable O'Connor’s achievements were given that she was an outspoken woman and an original thinker dealing with oppressive double standards and sexism. </p>
<p>She was so often <a href="https://www.pressandjournal.co.uk/fp/opinion/columnists/3198907/sinead-oconnor-defying-church-injustices-catherine-deveney-opinion/">dismissed</a> by commentators as mad, rather than respected for her courage and insight. </p>
<p>As we know now, she was completely right about the things she spoke up about. In 1992 on Saturday Night Live she tore up a photo of the Pope in protest of the sexual abuse perpetrated and protected by the Catholic Church. It was highly prescient. </p>
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<p>Watching that SNL video now, it is so striking how brave she is. Her critique of religion and politics and her later <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2018/10/26/singer-sinad-oconnor-converts-islam-changes-name-shuhada-davitt/">explorations</a> of Islam and Rastafarianism showed her seeking, questioning mind. Just as her songs do. </p>
<p>O'Connor went on to make eight more very diverse albums, including interpretations of traditional Irish folk music and classic roots reggae music. Her singing voice and her political voice should be remembered and celebrated, as should her peerless songwriting.</p>
<p>In a way to process this heartbreaking news, I am spinning her records today and revelling in the power and magic of her songs and singing.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/miley-cyrus-sinead-oconnor-and-the-future-of-feminism-18938">Miley Cyrus, Sinéad O’Connor and the future of feminism</a>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Toby Martin does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>I was 17 and just starting to get into songwriting when I first heard Sinéad O'Connor. Her music cut through everything else.Toby Martin, Music historian, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2104892023-07-27T15:56:31Z2023-07-27T15:56:31ZSinéad O'Connor: a troubled soul with immense talent and unbowed spirit<p>Few artists have straddled the boundaries between acclaim, controversy and public affection as effectively as <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2023/jul/26/sinead-oconnor-obituary">Sinéad O’Connor</a> who died yesterday at the age of 56.</p>
<p>Her status as a household name belied a comparatively brief commercial peak in the early 1990s, thanks to her mesmerising interpretation of Prince’s Nothing Compares 2 U. But she was never in any danger of being relegated to being a one-hit wonder.</p>
<p>O’Connor’s life and career were characterised by irregularity and a sense of being at odds with her surroundings. Her childhood was fraught. After her parents separated when she was young, O’Connor lived mostly with her mother, who she claimed was abusive, and involved her in shoplifting and fraudulent charity collecting.</p>
<p>Truancy and crime led to a spell in the Catholic church-run Grianán Training Centre, a harsh rehabilitation centre associated with the infamous <a href="http://jfmresearch.com/home/preserving-magdalene-history/about-the-magdalene-laundries/">Magdalene Laundries</a>. Although traumatic, the centre provided her with an entry into music when a teacher asked her to sing at a wedding, which led to encounters with musicians who encouraged her to write lyrics and pursue the guitar.</p>
<p>Adversity infused her music with a punk spirit, an oppositional attitude that was writ large throughout the rest of her career. By the time her mother died in a car crash when O’Connor was 18 years old, the singer was well on her way. She had dropped out of school and formed a band called Ton Ton Macoute – with typically spiky attitude – a name derived from a mythical Haitian bogeyman, and also the dictator Papa Doc Duvalier’s <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Tontons-Macoutes">feared secret police</a>.</p>
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<h2>A distinctive template as a singer-songwriter</h2>
<p>Having captured the attention of former U2 label boss Fachtna O'Ceallaigh, and collaborated with The Edge on a song for the film Captive, her solo career began in grand style with <a href="https://www.allmusic.com/album/the-lion-and-the-cobra-mw0000194018">The Lion and the Cobra</a> in 1987. A gold record in the UK, US, Canada and the Netherlands – featuring the Top 40 single <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h08pCvyKfbs">Mandinka</a> – it marked out her image and distinctive voice, clear and pure, but never demure.</p>
<p>Her trademark cropped hair and forthright bearing set her apart from prevailing female singer-songwriters. Shunning both overtly sexualised imagery and quirky hippie-chick vibes, O’Connor’s aesthetic was blunt and raw, although the clarity of her voice gave it commercial traction.</p>
<p>This reached a pinnacle on her next album, 1990’s <a href="https://www.allmusic.com/album/i-do-not-want-what-i-havent-got-mw0000654778">I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got</a> – a multi-platinum worldwide number one that featured her best-known recording, Nothing Compares 2 U which she made completely her own. Propelled by a stark video in unflinching close-up, tears running down her face, it made her an international star. But O’Connor’s predilection for musical exploration, political confrontation and emotional honesty meant that her mainstream career quickly self-combusted.</p>
<p>Despite the success of her early recordings she took a counter-intuitive turn on her next album, 1992’s <a href="https://ew.com/article/1992/09/25/am-i-not-your-girl/">Am I Not Your Girl?</a>, which featured lush versions of jazz standards. While her voice was more than up to the task of interpreting the classics she had grown up with, the departure from her previous work saw a critical and commercial step down from the trailblazing success of her previous album. More significantly, she used her promotional activity in America to showcase her status as a protest singer rather than a pop star.</p>
<p>Given the centrality of her personal, and musical, voice to her career, it’s perhaps apt that two of her most notable live performances are both a cappella, and confrontational. An <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LcmJErI8IQ">appearance on TV show Saturday Night Live</a> in October 1992 saw her drop the planned performances of standards from the album and replace them with a version of Bob Marley’s <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XHEPoMNP0I">War</a>. She wanted to re-tool it as a protest against child abuse in the Catholic church, and the cover up that followed. The change of song was agreed by the show’s producers.</p>
<p>What they hadn’t planned on was for O’Connor to tear up a picture of the Pope at the denouement of the performance. The subsequent furore was swift and intense. O’Connor was vilified in the press, and the NBC network received over 4,000 complaints. Two weeks later, at a star-studded <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TKeJifOXAnA%22">tribute to Bob Dylan</a>, she was booed by the crowd and stopped the band to shout another rendition of War before leaving the stage in tears, comforted by Kris Kristofferson.</p>
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<h2>Unbowed and iconic</h2>
<p>Even if her career never quite acquired equilibrium, O’Connor the artist remained unbowed and exploratory. Taking lessons in Italian <a href="https://www.operasense.com/what-is-bel-canto/">bel canto singing</a>, her subsequent seven albums tacked across genres – reggae, hip-hop, rock, soul and folk – placing her voice at the centre of original material and distinctive interpretations of an eclectic range of artists from Curtis Mayfield to Kurt Cobain.</p>
<p>Her later releases were stronger on critical acclaim than commercial clout, and her well-publicised <a href="https://www.today.com/health/sinead-oconnor-mental-health-bipolar-disorder-rcna96488">mental health difficulties</a> led to hiatuses in her music. Ever the controversialist, she continued to weigh in on points of principle, such as her <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2013/oct/03/sinead-o-connor-open-letter-miley-cyrus">critique of Miley Cyrus</a> over the sexualised video for Wrecking Ball, and the subsequent <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-24395755">public spat</a>.</p>
<p>Despite these gaps, and the personal tragedies like her son’s suicide in 2022, O’Connor’s fierce adherence to her principles of self-expression saw her win considerable public affection. She was, of course, <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-44209971">vindicated</a> over her accusations of abuse in the Catholic church. But her uneven approach to public life – <a href="https://www.irishexaminer.com/news/arid-40308401.html">announcements of retirement followed by retractions</a>, a spell as a “<a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/328709.stm">priest</a>” followed by her <a href="https://www.thenationalnews.com/arts-culture/music/sinead-o-connor-i-had-been-a-muslim-all-my-life-and-didn-t-realise-it-i-am-home-1.907708">conversion to Islam</a> (she went by the name Shuhada’ Sadaqat from 2019) – did little to dim her appeal in the long term.</p>
<p>Ultimately despite her difficulties, or even because of them, she exemplified what it was to be an icon. Her visual distinctiveness, determination and refusal to meet the mainstream half-way mean that her instantly recognisable voice cut through the shifts and uncertainty of her personal life and public debate. In the end, nothing quite compares to her.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/210489/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Adam Behr has received funding from the Arts and Humanities Research Council and the British Academy. </span></em></p>Spirited, defiant and always at the mercy of her mental health issues, the Irish singer will be forever remembered for her pure, clear voice and willingness to speak out on injustice.Adam Behr, Senior Lecturer in Popular and Contemporary Music, Newcastle UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/2057442023-06-18T23:48:19Z2023-06-18T23:48:19ZHow a ‘pot-smoking, acid-gobbling smart-arse’ became the producer behind some of Australia’s greatest music<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/530279/original/file-20230606-27-3kg5ul.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=13%2C0%2C9174%2C6870&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Self portrait</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Tony Cohen Collection </span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Maybe he’s someone only musicians know about. Which is criminal. Or maybe this excellent memoir by engineer and producer Tony Cohen, who died in 2017, will fling him into the spotlight. Which is appropriate.</p>
<p>Cohen, who was mostly Melbourne-based, made an astonishing contribution to Australian recorded music in the 70s and 80s.</p>
<p>It seems glib to reduce a busy creative life to a list, but these highlights are the main roads on the map of our culture through those years: Lobby Loyde, The Ferrets, The Boys Next Door, Laughing Clowns, Models, The Reels, The Birthday Party, The Go-Betweens, Hunters and Collectors, Cold Chisel, The Beasts of Bourbon, The Saints, Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds, Tex, Don and Charlie, The Cruel Sea, Tiddas … </p>
<hr>
<p><em>Review: Half Deaf, Completely Mad: The Chaotic Genius of Australia’s Most Legendary Producer - Tony Cohen, John Olson (Black Inc)</em></p>
<hr>
<p>Half Deaf, Completely Mad is co-written with John Olson. Olson, as Cohen did, works in studios as an engineer (they worked together on Augie March’s <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2018/feb/27/augie-march-bootikins-review-an-exceptional-rumination-on-time-passing">Bootikins</a>), but also as an archivist and oral historian. </p>
<p>Olson’s role in this book is essential to its success. Cohen had started the beginnings of a book in 2012, tapping out tales on his laptop. And then Olson started interviewing Cohen and many of the people who had worked with him.</p>
<p>But Olson made the wise decision to just let Cohen’s voice tell the story in this book, and it is clear and conversational off the page; he is both funny and irreverent. Cohen’s are stories of glorious inventiveness and dire indulgence from someone with a (mostly) keen memory. The gist of the stories was pure, even if the dates might have needed a bit of research on Olson’s part. </p>
<p>Ken Gormley, Cruel Sea bass player, commented after Tony’s death: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>He was so fucking funny and sweet, complex, troubled, super intelligent, irreverent, totally maddening and just brilliant.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Cohen’s life unfolds through the book as a long, chronological series of vignettes, separated by his handwritten initials TC and punctuated with exhortations to listen to songs that illustrate the tales – making it clear that the context of this life is music, and you’d better go and listen closely to these songs! Hear all the stuff he’s talking about: the sound and the songs; the people and the times.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/a-gentleman-with-the-mad-soul-of-an-irish-convict-poet-remembering-chris-bailey-and-the-blazing-comet-that-was-the-saints-181059">'A gentleman with the mad soul of an Irish convict poet': remembering Chris Bailey, and the blazing comet that was The Saints</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>‘Turn it up a bit more!’</h2>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531519/original/file-20230613-17-1zmtqo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531519/original/file-20230613-17-1zmtqo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531519/original/file-20230613-17-1zmtqo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=775&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531519/original/file-20230613-17-1zmtqo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=775&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531519/original/file-20230613-17-1zmtqo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=775&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531519/original/file-20230613-17-1zmtqo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=974&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531519/original/file-20230613-17-1zmtqo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=974&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531519/original/file-20230613-17-1zmtqo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=974&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Young Tony mixing in the studio.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photographer unknown/Black Inc</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Cohen grew up in the Melbourne suburb of Mentone in the 1960s, playing covers in garage bands, but the stories really start when, in 1973, he was introduced to Bill Armstrong, owner of Armstrong Studios, Melbourne’s centre of music recording.</p>
<p>Working as an assistant, cleaning toilets and getting coffees, he was 15 and he had a job! In the first week he was paid $17 – “I was so young I spent it on lollies. And hash.” These were learning years, as he slowly brought bands into the studio in the quiet hours, getting better at this obscure craft, and developing an ego:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I was up myself: a pot-smoking, acid-gobbling smart-arse who thought he knew it all.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>This time at Armstrong’s was informative, not just in learning what to do, but what not to do. Olson has allowed this part of the story to breathe deeply.</p>
<p>“He was really keen to talk about Armstrong’s and early recording,” Olson told me in a recent interview, “because they had taught him so much. And he talks a bit about Molly [Meldrum], which people will probably be surprised to read.” </p>
<p>Cohen’s regard for <a href="https://theconversation.com/molly-meldrum-at-80-how-the-artfully-incoherent-presenter-changed-australian-music-and-australian-music-journalism-196793">Molly Meldrum</a> is clear. Molly was a ground-breaking music producer in those magic years from the late 60s into the 70s, as youth culture swung into revolutionary mode. As Cohen says in the book: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>He taught me so much, though he wasn’t meaning to […] Molly’s secret? Exaggeration […] Turn things up louder than is considered tasteful. It might sound like you should pull it back, but resist that temptation. Turn it up a bit more!</p>
</blockquote>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531518/original/file-20230613-17-xm2j5w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531518/original/file-20230613-17-xm2j5w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531518/original/file-20230613-17-xm2j5w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=541&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531518/original/file-20230613-17-xm2j5w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=541&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531518/original/file-20230613-17-xm2j5w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=541&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531518/original/file-20230613-17-xm2j5w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=680&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531518/original/file-20230613-17-xm2j5w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=680&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531518/original/file-20230613-17-xm2j5w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=680&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Tex Perkins, Tony Cohen and Molly Meldrum at the ARIA Awards.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photograph by TV Week / Are Media.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But the core of Cohen’s reputation is anchored in the work he did with The Boys Next Door, The Birthday Party and The Bad Seeds. He met Nick Cave, Mick Harvey and the boys in 1979, and engineered and mixed their first cluster of albums, peaking with <a href="https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/the-birthday-party-junkyard/">Junkyard</a> in 1981. </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Everything culminated in a trashy, nasty-sounding recording. Well, that’s what they wanted.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>This idea – helping the musicians to get what they want – is at the heart of Cohen’s success as an engineer and producer. Studio engineers know the gear and the rooms they work in intimately, while keeping sessions running smoothly; producers are all about getting the band’s ideas to the right audience, often keeping record companies happy. Cohen didn’t have a “sound” like some producers do, he saw his job as capturing the sound of the band, as transforming ideas into reality.</p>
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<h2>A strange, scrambled method</h2>
<p>According to Olson,</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Mick Harvey said to me that they felt that there was no one else at that time. That [Tony] WAS the person to work with, because he would be hands off and let them explore things and not say no […] Tony was prepared to throw himself into the whole thing and see where it went.“</p>
</blockquote>
<p>I also spoke with Laughing Clowns drummer Jeffrey Wegener about recording with Cohen at Richmond Recorders in 1979 and he echoed this sentiment: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>He was the only one. He was daring to do different things, and there was a bit of "Fuck you!” to what the normal music benchmarks were. He didn’t care that I wanted to tune my drums differently, it was all cool. Go!!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The training and workplace practices of studio engineers up to this point created that “no” mentality, and their way of working was quite removed from Cohen’s methods. Blixa Bargeld called him “The Anti-Producer”. Cohen wrote:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I’ve got a strange, scrambled way of working. I know how to use most pieces of equipment, but I don’t necessarily know what they do or why they do it.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>He talks about rooms and equipment in the book, and how he records things – inevitably. Why Yamaha NS10 speakers work; the usefulness of Neumann U87, U89 or TLM170 microphones if you are recording Tex Perkins; the Lexicon 480L reverb unit. It feels natural. This is, after all, a book about a working life.</p>
<p>By the mid-70s, Cohen had become comfortable with drug-taking of all types and as the decades passed he developed addiction problems, and eventually chronic health issues. In 1984 he asked Roger Grierson, independent label head and band manager, to manage him. (“It didn’t last long and I tortured the poor man.”)</p>
<p>Grierson remembers, in his recently published memoir: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>He was a brilliant human being and a lovely guy, funny and clever, and that meant everyone would forgive him his transgressions, which were many […] “I’m just going to clean my teeth” was a euphemism for “Going to score, back in a few days … maybe.” </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Cohen doesn’t shy away from this part of his story.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Drugs played a big part in music, especially punk. I became so accustomed to drugs in the studio that they formed part of the equipment and I wouldn’t contemplate a session without consuming copious amounts. Junkyard is not just an experiment of sound, but of physical ability to cope with drugs.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>In 1987, after recording and mixing a swathe of Australian music including Models, The Go-Betweens, The Reels, Pel Mel, The Johnnys, and X, and some time in London, Cohen moved to West Berlin. Recordings with These Immortal Souls and Crime and the City Solution followed, as well as a re-invigoration of the working relationship with Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds. West Berlin was, he writes, a turning point. “It wasn’t a business, everything was done purely on an artistic level.”</p>
<p>Back in Australia in 1988, and on methadone, over the next few years Cohen produced albums for The Cruel Sea, Beasts of Bourbon, Dave Graney, Mixed Relations, Tiddas and The Blackeyed Susans, and most importantly, met his partner till the end, Astrid Munday.</p>
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<p>Cohen won Producer of the Year at the 1993 ARIA awards, saying, “this is an award I think I richly deserve”. But by 1995, with two ARIA wins, he was too ill with complications from diabetes to get up on stage. </p>
<p>Nick Cave posted on Facebook after hearing of Tony’s death: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Tony was pure chaos in the studio and like many geniuses a nightmare to work with. But you came back again and again because he was just so good, everything he did was so unique and bold and startling. He was a master at both what not to do in the studio and what to do in the studio. For example – don’t set fire to the studio, don’t sleep in the air-conditioning vents, don’t not show up to the sessions for days at a time, but conversely – do record music like your very life depended on it, do create sounds that no-one has ever heard before, do mix records with a courage that put every other producer in Australia to shame. He was also the funniest guy I have ever met […]</p>
</blockquote>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531520/original/file-20230613-24-8qjrpo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531520/original/file-20230613-24-8qjrpo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/531520/original/file-20230613-24-8qjrpo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531520/original/file-20230613-24-8qjrpo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531520/original/file-20230613-24-8qjrpo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531520/original/file-20230613-24-8qjrpo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531520/original/file-20230613-24-8qjrpo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/531520/original/file-20230613-24-8qjrpo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Nick Cave: everything Cohen did was ‘so unique and bold and startling’.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jose Coelho/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>At the end of the book is a list of Cohen’s compadrés who have passed on, maybe 60 names, most of whom you will be familiar with. Tony was a sweet man, well-loved, and those relationships meant a lot to him.</p>
<p>“I get very upset when I lose another but I dream a lot,” he says. “It’s always a jumble of those who are with us and those who are gone, and I wake up happy because I feel like I’ve been in touch with them again.”</p>
<p>Hopefully he visits his loved ones in their dreams. And he will always be in touch with us through the music he helped create, and through the words in this wonderful, lively, funny book about a working life in music.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/205744/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>John Willsteed does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Engineer and producer Tony Cohen made an astonishing contribution to Australian recorded music in the 70s and 80s – working with acts like The Saints, Nick Cave’s various bands, and the Go-Betweens.John Willsteed, Senior Lecturer, School of Creative Practice, Queensland University of TechnologyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1973212023-01-06T14:16:01Z2023-01-06T14:16:01ZVivienne Westwood: how the brand will maintain the spirit of transgression and rebellion after her death<p>The death of the English fashion designer Dame Vivienne Westwood at the age of 81 on <a href="https://news.sky.com/story/fashion-designer-dame-vivienne-westwood-has-died-at-the-age-of-81-12776479">December 29 2022</a>, has not only moved the fashion industry, but the world. Through her designs and her activism, Westwood had a profound impact on fashion and culture.</p>
<p>I, like so many others, credit Westwood for inspiring my passion for fashion. As a teenager, I spent countless Saturdays wandering down the Kings Road in London with the intention of ending up at Westwood’s <a href="https://www.viviennewestwood.com/en/sustainability/craft-heritage/worlds-end/">World’s End store</a>. On these trips I would stroll past groups of punks adorned in bondage trousers, ripped shirts (undoubtedly influenced by Westwood) and spiky hair.</p>
<p>I remember vividly the quirky interior with wonderful clothing and Westwood, herself, often sitting in the store. My first Westwood purchase was an <a href="https://www.tartanregister.gov.uk/tartanDetails?ref=5530">Anglomania tartan</a> waistcoat, which I am wearing now as I write this piece. It is adorned with a pattern that has become a Westwood signature – <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/fashion-a-new-year-s-fling-with-tartan-1291205.html">The MacAndreas tartan</a>, which Westwood named after her husband and creative partner Andreas Kronthaler. The tartan was given official recognition by <a href="https://www.tartanregister.gov.uk/aboutus">The Scottish Register of Tartans</a> in 1993.</p>
<p>With Westwood’s death, many might question what will happen to the brand now it no longer has its namesake at the helm. Westwood had a strong and unique vision, could that be lost with her passing? But some brands have managed to maintain a sense of the creative genius of their founders after their death, just look at Christian Dior and Alexander McQueen. </p>
<h2>The future of the House of Westwood</h2>
<p>The loss of <a href="https://museeyslparis.com/en/biography/le-deces-de-christian-dior#:%7E:text=October%2024%2C%201957,Death%20of%20Christian%20Dior&text=Christian%20Dior%20died%20of%20a%20heart%20attack%20in%20Montecatini%2C%20Italy.">Dior in 1957</a> and <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2010/apr/28/alexander-mcqueen-suicide-verdict-inquest">McQueen in 2010</a> have shown how the legacy of their work, including their design philosophies, can continue under the leadership of future design directors. </p>
<p>Dior was succeeded by <a href="https://museeyslparis.com/en/stories/les-annees-dior-1-1">Yves Saint Laurent</a> who had worked for two years under his predecessor’s guidance . Since Saint Laurent’s time at Dior, there have been many subsequent creative directors who have shaped its history including John Galliano and more recently <a href="https://www.nssmag.com/en/fashion/26583/dior-creative-directors">Maria Grazia Churi</a>. But, with each of these changes, a sense of Dior and his vision has remained.</p>
<p>As a couturier Dior was inspired by history, exotic travel and flowers from his <a href="https://www.tourisme-granville-terre-mer.com/en/experience/highlights/christian-dior-garden">garden</a>
outside Paris. These passions continue to be referenced in the work of his <a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/allysonportee/2021/06/17/maria-grazia-chiuri-fuses-ancient-greek-history-into-diors-2022-cruise-collection-revealed-tonight-from-athens/?sh=2a2be3f0ea83">successors</a>, ensuring his legacy continues. </p>
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<p>Similarly, <a href="https://www.kering.com/en/houses/couture-and-leather-goods/alexander-mcqueen/sarah-burton/">Sarah Burton</a>, who designed alongside McQueen for 14 years, took the helm as creative director for the label following his death. Burton has ensured that the drama and extravagance that <a href="https://www.dailyartmagazine.com/the-majestic-art-of-alexander-mcqueen/">defined McQueen’s work</a> continues today. </p>
<p>Take the <a href="https://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/spring-2023-ready-to-wear/alexander-mcqueen">Spring 2023 show</a> in which Burton referenced Hieronymus Bosch’s painting <a href="https://www.museodelprado.es/en/the-collection/art-work/the-garden-of-earthly-delights-triptych/02388242-6d6a-4e9e-a992-e1311eab3609">Garden of Earthly Delights</a>. Bosch’s demons featured in the last show of McQueen’s, which took place after his death. </p>
<p>Like Dior and McQueen, Westwood’s legacy is secure in the hands of a designer who has worked closely with her for years, in this case her husband Andreas Kronthaler. Their personal and creative partnership has seen a <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/fashion/2021/jun/26/being-mr-westwood-vivienne-is-eccentric-serious-and-genuine">meeting of minds</a> through a <a href="https://www.anothermag.com/fashion-beauty/14601/vivienne-westwood-and-andreas-kronthaler-clothes-for-heroes">shared vision</a> for the Westwood brand and passion for design, art history and inspiring future generations. </p>
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<p>More recently, Kronthaler took over the role of <a href="https://vmagazine.com/article/andreas-kronthaler-for-vivienne-westwood-fall-2022/">creative director</a> overseeing the designs for Westwood’s collections, allowing Westwood more time to focus on other causes. At the most recent presentation for <a href="https://hypebeast.com/2022/10/andreas-kronthaler-vivienne-westwood-paris-fashion-week-spring-summer-2023">spring/summer 2023</a> in Paris, Westwood was notably absent and Kronthaler took on the role of walking down the catwalk at the end and accepting flowers. </p>
<p>In a statement released after Westwood died, Kronthaler <a href="https://www.dazeddigital.com/fashion/article/57858/1/vivienne-westwood-dead-death-tribute-obituary-andreas-kronthaler-punk-activism">stated</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I will continue with Vivienne in my heart … We have been working until the end and she has given me plenty of things to get on with. Thank you darling.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Westwood has created a brand that is unique, radical and rebellious and through Kronthaler’s creative vision there is hope that the spirit of Westwood will live on.</p>
<h2>A trangressive designer</h2>
<p>Westwood was a <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/fashion/2022/dec/29/dame-vivienne-westwood-fashion-designer-dies-aged-81">self-taught designer</a> who was known for her radical and deviant style.</p>
<p>Her first real foray into fashion came in 1971 when Westwood opened a shop called Let it Rock at 430 Kings Road, London, with <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2010/apr/08/malcolm-mclaren-dies-sex-pistols">Malcolm McLaren</a>, manager of the Sex Pistols. The shop cemented Westwood’s association with punk and, along with McLaren, she was credited for giving the subculture a radical style that was <a href="https://time.com/6243793/vivienne-westwood-fashion-obituary/">unlike anything before</a>. Westwood’s creations of bondage trousers, ripped t-shirts and provocative slogans made a mark on culture and later <a href="https://theeverydaymagazine.co.uk/fashion/the-history-and-influence-of-punk-in-fashion">mainstream fashion</a>.</p>
<p>From her first show in 1981, <a href="https://www.vogue.com/article/the-pirate-look-in-fashion-1981-2021">Pirate Collection</a>, Westwood subverted the conventions of traditional fashion. Inspired by <a href="https://www.vogue.co.uk/fashion/article/decoding-the-personal-style-of-vivienne-westwood#:%7E:text=Westwood's%20style%20was%20not%20solely,pliable%20and%20portable%20sandwich%20boards.">fashion history</a> she played with historic styles including the corset and <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/fashion/vivienne-westwood-death-age-cause-fashion-b2253388.html">the crinoline</a>, creating innovative garments that will continue to influence fashion’s future.</p>
<p>As well as being a leader in transgressive design, Westwood has left a legacy in fashion activism. Never afraid to speak her mind, she was vocal against capitalism and <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2020/12/05/opinion/vivienne-westwood-environment-politics-activism.html#:%7E:text=Dame%20Vivienne%20Westwood%20is%20a%20designer%20and%20activist.,publishing%20a%20diversity%20of%20letters%20to%20the%20editor.">the decline of the environment</a>.</p>
<p>Her activism was at the heart of her global brand. For Westwood, fashion was a way to get people involved in politics and other societal issues.</p>
<p>Westwood’s story is compelling, radical and sometimes controversial. Her work is imbued with a spirit of rebellion and there is hope that with Kronthaler that spirit will continue.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/197321/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Naomi Braithwaite does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>A rebellious spirit who sought to break the rules of fashion, but what will the House of Westwood be like without its eponymous designer?Naomi Braithwaite, Associate Professor in Fashion Marketing and Branding, Nottingham Trent UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1965352022-12-16T11:30:21Z2022-12-16T11:30:21ZHow pink became fashion’s colour of controversy: a brief history<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/501010/original/file-20221214-5067-u73s9p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=19%2C7%2C928%2C785&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Portrait of Madame Gely by Frederick Carl Frieseke (1907).</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://publicdomainreview.org/essay/prousts-pinks">Public Domain Review</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>From the blush pink of royal mistresses to the hot pink of tabloid party girls, pink has gained a reputation for being a provocative colour for those who dare to wear it.</p>
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<p><em>You can listen to more articles from The Conversation, narrated by Noa, <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/topics/audio-narrated-99682">here</a>.</em></p>
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<p>Despite its various shades and the complexities of its cultural significance, it is a colour that is often branded with the same connotations of feminine frivolity and excess – whether girlish and innocent or womanly and erotic. </p>
<p>So much so that worshippers at a North London church were ordered to remove pink chairs after an ecclesiastical judge claimed that the choice of colour scheme could <a href="https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/church-sees-red-over-bright-pink-chairs-3trg9xpgk">“cause puzzlement”</a>.</p>
<p>This pink panic invites the question: why is pink so controversial? </p>
<p>A brief glimpse at its rather colourful history in the Western world reveals associations that both shape and challenge what pink means.</p>
<h2>Pink’s past</h2>
<p>According to historian <a href="https://thamesandhudson.com/pink-the-history-of-a-punk-pretty-powerful-colour-9780500022269">Valerie Steele</a>, the birth of pink in modern fashion began in the 18th century. By this period, pink had become the colour of choice among courtly elites of the Western world, including royalty and aristocrats.</p>
<p>Developments in dye making and the French court’s penchant for cutting-edge garments provided the perfect pairing to begin pink’s success as an emerging fashion staple.</p>
<p>Perhaps the most instrumental influence on pink’s power was Madame de Pompadour – the mistress of King Louis XV. She was often portrayed by the painter François Boucher sporting her signature pink gowns and shoes, most notably in his 1759 piece <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2001/sep/08/art">Madame de Pompadour</a>.</p>
<p>In his 1758 painting, <a href="https://harvardartmuseums.org/collections/object/303561">Madame de Pompadour at Her Toilette</a>, she is shown applying rouge from a box of cosmetics – the blushed cheeks implying female sexuality. For Steele, the colour pink in this period becomes attached to both the frivolity of French high fashion and the eroticising of white femininity.</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Marilyn Monroe performs in her iconic hot pink dress in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953).</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>From the 18th century court to the 20th century home, pink gained further traction in the 1950s. As British professor of design history <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books/about/As_Long_as_It_s_Pink.html?id=By0qAAAAYAAJ">Penny Sparke</a> writes: “Linked with the idea of female childhood, [pink] represented the emphasis on distinctive gendering that underpinned 1950s society, ensuring that women were women and men were men.”</p>
<p>Whether <a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjvufXu-vb7AhVJi1wKHY_RCrIQFnoECCYQAQ&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.lofficielusa.com%2Ffashion%2Fhistory-behind-jackie-kennedy-pink-suit-chanel-jfk&usg=AOvVaw2gvTMarBjpgCPRBDcV2AwN">adorning first ladies</a>, Hollywood stars or housewives, pink in this era represented a traditional femininity grounded in fixed gender roles.</p>
<p>Marilyn Monroe’s iconic pink gown in <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0045810/">Gentleman Prefer Blondes (1953)</a> paired with her <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/stars-9781838718374/">typecast “dumb blonde” film roles</a> and her <a href="https://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/a-visual-history-of-marilyn-monroe-pin-up-icon_n_56ba8d67e4b0c3c5504f5ee4">pin-up past</a> work together to reinforce the star as a sex symbol to be desired by audiences. As film scholar <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Heavenly-Bodies-Film-Stars-and-Society/Dyer/p/book/9780415310277">Richard Dyer</a> argues, Monroe represented the epitome of sex in conversative 1950s American society.</p>
<p>On the other end of the scale, the first lady of the United States Mamie Eisenhower – wife of president Dwight D. Eisenhower (1953-1961) – cultivated an image of the ideal housewife through her famous “First Lady Pink” looks.</p>
<p>Her stunning <a href="https://www.si.edu/newsdesk/photos/mamie-eisenhowers-inaugural-gown-1953">1953 inaugural outfit</a> was a sparkling pink gown embroidered with more than 2,000 rhinestones. She was well-known for her love of all things pink and transformed the White House with this colourful décor, so much so that the household staff called it a <a href="https://www.nps.gov/museum/exhibits/eise/Mamie/personal_interests/EISE3765_scale4.html">“Pink Palace”</a>.</p>
<h2>Punk and protest</h2>
<p>Beyond the 1950s, pink moved away from its associations of conformity and took on a new purpose: resistance.</p>
<p>Paul Simonon, bassist for English punk band The Clash, <a href="https://www.economist.com/1843/2018/09/20/in-the-pink-the-fashion-history-of-a-divisive-colour">famously said</a> that “pink is the only true rock and roll colour”. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Courtney Love’s bright pink outfit at Glastonbury 1999.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We can certainly see this in the way that punk musicians reappropriate the sweet and girlish connotations of pink to create subversive performances.</p>
<p>For her <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/arts/pictures/image/0,8543,-10704677171,00.html">1999 performance at Glastonbury</a>, Hole’s Courtney Love – notorious for her raw and raucous vocals – unexpectedly swapped her rebellious grunge girl look for a pink costume of ballet slippers and fairy wings.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/500756/original/file-20221213-18527-576dx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Protesters holding signs and wearing pink knitted beanie hats in the crowd at the Women's March in Washington DC." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/500756/original/file-20221213-18527-576dx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/500756/original/file-20221213-18527-576dx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500756/original/file-20221213-18527-576dx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500756/original/file-20221213-18527-576dx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500756/original/file-20221213-18527-576dx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500756/original/file-20221213-18527-576dx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500756/original/file-20221213-18527-576dx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">A sea of pink pussy riot hats at the Washington DC Women’s March in 2017.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/washington-dc-usa-january-21-2017-564992341">Heidi Besen</a></span>
</figcaption>
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<p>Pink is also the colour of feminist activism. The 2017 women’s march saw protesters taking to streets in pink “pussy hats”. </p>
<p>They were responding to <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2016/10/08/us/donald-trump-tape-transcript.html">a recording</a> of then president Donald Trump, in which he boasted about <a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwiO4Z7P-_b7AhVMEsAKHdtLBAgQFnoECAoQAQ&url=https%3A%2F%2Ftheconversation.com%2Ffrom-chaucer-to-trump-sexist-banter-has-been-defended-as-entertainment-for-600-years-84804&usg=AOvVaw0dCQPpZyNUtNJACNJ7CANh">grabbing women “by the pussy”</a>.</p>
<p>This explicit connection between pink, female genitalia and activism is a feminist statement that emphasises women’s lack of autonomy over their own bodies in a patriarchal society.</p>
<h2>Pink reclaimed</h2>
<p>The connotations of pink are not fixed, but malleable. Whether worn by film stars, musicians or celebrities, the colour takes on new meanings through irony and reclamation.</p>
<p>The 2001 film <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0250494/">Legally Blonde</a> subverts the gendered <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Neo-Feminist-Cinema-Girly-Films-Chick-Flicks-and-Consumer-Culture/Radner/p/book/9780415877749">“dumb blonde” stereotypes</a> associated with wearing pink by following the successes of a sorority girl who goes to law school.</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Madonna’s Material Girl video (1984).</span></figcaption>
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<p>When Madonna donned her pink Material Girl look, she positioned herself as <a href="https://mcfarlandbooks.com/product/the-performance-identities-of-lady-gaga/">the new Marilyn Monroe</a>: a blonde bombshell for the era of Second Wave Feminism. She reworked Monroe’s tragic stardom into a narrative about female empowerment and survival.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/500760/original/file-20221213-18128-g5huck.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Reese Witherspoon wears a hot pink dress with spaghetti straps and a frilled fishtail shape on the pink carpet" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/500760/original/file-20221213-18128-g5huck.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/500760/original/file-20221213-18128-g5huck.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=915&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500760/original/file-20221213-18128-g5huck.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=915&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500760/original/file-20221213-18128-g5huck.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=915&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500760/original/file-20221213-18128-g5huck.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1149&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500760/original/file-20221213-18128-g5huck.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1149&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/500760/original/file-20221213-18128-g5huck.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1149&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Actress Reese Witherspoon walks the pink carpet at the Los Angeles premiere of Legally Blonde (2001).</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/actress-reese-witherspoon-world-premiere-los-98746256">Shutterstock</a></span>
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<p>On TikTok, the <a href="https://www.refinery29.com/en-gb/2020/12/10217066/tiktok-bimbo-gen-z-trend">#Bimbo trend</a> involves feminine-presenting content creators finding inspiration in the once derogatory “bimbo” label. Their videos <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2022/mar/23/the-bimbo-is-back-and-as-a-feminist-i-couldnt-be-more-delighted">reclaim the label</a> as a playful aesthetic and a new feminist lifestyle.</p>
<p>Despite its longstanding associations with feminine frivolity and excess, pink consistently proves itself to be a transgressive colour. It moves with the times and does not shy away from parodying its own past.</p>
<p>If Paris Hilton’s <a href="https://www.vogue.co.uk/fashion/article/paris-hilton-versace-show">surprise runway appearance</a> earlier this year in sparkling pink Versace bridal wear tells us anything, it’s that pink should never be underestimated. It still has the power to shock, fascinate and make a statement.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/196535/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Harriet Fletcher does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>From Madame de Pompadour to punks and pussy protest hats, pink has always been the colour of choice for those who dare to make a statement.Harriet Fletcher, Lecturer in Media and Communication, Anglia Ruskin UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1888152022-09-22T20:15:34Z2022-09-22T20:15:34ZFriday essay: reclaiming artist-musician Anita Lane from the ‘despised’ label of muse<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/485084/original/file-20220916-17-dl68vc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=2%2C8%2C1794%2C1188&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Anita Lane</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">MuteEnhanced</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>When I heard Anita Lane had died aged 61 in April 2021, a memory flashed up: I’m sitting beside her at the foot of a bed in the mid-1980s, and she turns to me to say how much my hair has grown. </p>
<p>I don’t recall why we were sitting on that bed in a darkened bedroom of the unpretentious Paddington flat in Sydney she shared with her boyfriend, Andrew. I don’t know why I remember this moment, out of so many insignificant moments evaporated by time and lost in the wash of youthful substance use. But it vibrates with aching, incomprehensible poignancy. Perhaps, I sense a glimmer of the fleeting subconsciousness connecting us in our vulnerability. </p>
<p>We were young women then, in our 20s (Anita some years my senior), trying to free ourselves from the hold of charismatic exes, who both happened to be living legend “punk” musicians. She and <a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-transcendent-rage-nick-cave-and-the-red-hand-files-144735">Nick Cave</a> had called it quits several years earlier (they would soon reunite), and I was raw and messy after a parting of ways with Rob Younger, singer of the influential band <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2017/jun/10/radio-birdman-brutally-honest-doco-cements-legacy-of-volatile-sydney-punk-band?">Radio Birdman</a> and singer-songwriter in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Christs">The New Christs</a>. </p>
<p>We weren’t friends, as such; we just had encounters around the traps over a period of many months – though she was an indie “it girl”, so I’d heard of her well before we met, and we had mutual friends over the years.</p>
<p>I remembered, too, that Anita once saved my life in that flat – but that story would only distract us.</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Anita Lane’s ‘The World’s a Girl’, from her final album, Sex O'Clock.</span></figcaption>
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<h2>More than a muse</h2>
<p>Anita Lane was a singer, songwriter and recording artist, who released <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/479734-Anita-Lane-Dirty-Sings">a solo EP</a> and <a href="https://www.discogs.com/master/67147-Anita-Lane-Dirty-Pearl">two</a> <a href="https://www.discogs.com/master/67145-Anita-Lane-Sex-OClock">albums</a> between the late 1980s and early 2000s. A central player in the 1970s Melbourne art scene – peopled by the likes of Nick Cave, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rowland_S._Howard">Rowland S. Howard</a>, comedian <a href="https://theconversation.com/noice-different-unusual-watching-kath-and-kim-as-a-locked-down-historian-166261">Gina Riley</a> and filmmaker <a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-dogs-in-space-30-years-on-a-once-maligned-film-comes-of-age-56288">Richard Lowenstein</a> – she contributed lyrics to some of Cave’s most famous early songs.</p>
<p>Their first co-written recording, <a href="https://youtu.be/NQS8rwIo_Cc">A Dead Song</a>, from The Birthday Party’s <a href="https://www.nickcave.com/releases/prayers-on-fire/">Prayers on Fire</a>, caught John Peel’s attention for high rotation. She co-penned <a href="https://www.nickcave.com/lyric/from-her-to-eternity-2/">From Her to Eternity</a>, the classic song on the Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds’ first studio album of the same name. She is often cited <a href="https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/anita-lane-nick-cave-dead-1162241/">in the music press</a> as a founding or brief member of The Bad Seeds. </p>
<p>She worked closely with Mick Harvey, who produced or co-produced all her major recordings, and she was also an impressive visual artist. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">From Her to Eternity, co-written by Anita Lane and Nick Cave, was performed in Wim Wenders’ Wings of Desire.</span></figcaption>
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<p>After the announcement of Anita’s death, obituaries popped up in online music magazines celebrating her as Cave’s muse. It is understandable journalists and biographers underscored crucial Cave/Lane collaborations – she directly aided his ascent – but these nods provoked indignant criticism among fans and friends. </p>
<p>A <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2021/05/07/arts/music/anita-lane-dead.html">New York Times article</a> was a prime example of how the media outs itself as sexist. The headline, tagging Anita simplistically as a “rocker”, was followed by an intro that read, </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Ms. Lane was Nick Cave’s collaborator and girlfriend during his formative period and helped define his sound. She also made records of her own.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>It could have been ironic comedy gold in other hands, but instead stands as an illustration of how women’s creative accomplishments are devalued. </p>
<p>Anita seems to have been sprinkled with an extra dash of <em>je ne sais quoi</em> fairy dust. So, she was idealised and rhapsodised over as a “muse” – a tag that followed her into the mediatised afterlife. </p>
<p>As Cave wrote on his blog, <a href="https://www.theredhandfiles.com/tell-us-about-anita/">The Red Hand Files</a>, Anita “despised the concept of the muse but was everybody’s”. She profoundly affected people and their art-making, and the media can’t be expected to disregard that. But the coverage throughout her career failed to convey that, as Cave candidly proclaimed, Anita was “the smartest and most talented of all of us, by far”.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/conversing-with-the-divine-why-we-still-need-our-muses-37051">Conversing with the divine – why we still need our muses</a>
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<h2>‘A living artwork’</h2>
<p>Melbourne-raised, Brooklyn-based composer, producer and performer <a href="http://www.foetus.org/content/">J.G. Thirlwell</a> (known as Foetus, Manorexia etc., and for his work on Archer) knew Anita from around Melbourne. They became firm friends after she moved to London to be with Nick and Co. “She resonated wherever she went because she had an incredible magnetic presence which was very alluring […] this incandescent presence,” says Thirlwell. </p>
<p>He is not alone in describing Anita as “a living artwork”. It wasn’t just a matter of putting out a few records, and she didn’t inspire people just by being captivating. She had a huge impact, Thirlwell says, because she was a great artist, but </p>
<blockquote>
<p>not the sort of person whose art you could catalogue and quantify; her art was the way she thought and moved through life. Everything was artful about her.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>In <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/376579.The_Andy_Warhol_Diaries">The Andy Warhol Diaries</a>, Warhol says he coined the term “superstar” for people who are very talented, but whose talent can’t be sold. Anita was a superstar, and that’s why the reductive coverage galled many. They had it the wrong way around, casting her a muse-artist – when her innate creativity meant she was always an artist first: an artist-muse. </p>
<p>Commenting on a public Facebook thread, after her death Mick Harvey took the press to task for straining to make tasteless and banal connections between Lane and Cave. He conceded that Anita’s mystery and her rebuff of showbiz glitz disadvantaged her. He added that he took solace, by contrast, from the outpouring and accolades from fans and acquaintances, which, he felt, got closer to the truth. </p>
<p>Anita was a contradiction. She had friends scattered far and wide, but was guarded and notoriously isolated, especially in her maturing years. She was a conspicuously absent interviewee in the 2011 documentary <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt2015298/">Autoluminescent: Rowland S. Howard</a>. She did not cooperate with Mark Mordue’s recent Cave biography, <a href="https://www.harpercollins.com.au/9781460713211/boy-on-fire/">Boy on Fire: The Young Nick Cave</a>. And she would almost certainly have declined an interview request from me. (Harvey and Cave did not respond to interview requests.)</p>
<p>If you search the internet, you’ll find many images and references to her, a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anita_Lane">Wikipedia page</a>, and album reviews. You’ll find a few thoughtful homages, such as Eleanor Philpot’s <a href="https://thequietus.com/articles/29144-anita-lane">Unearthing A Pearl: Praising the Sexual Mysticism of Anita Lane</a> in The Quietus, which argues that her musical body of work was a pioneering study of “female sexuality”. And you might come across the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/anitalaneforfans/">Anita Lane Facebook page</a>, run by a French fan.</p>
<p>The only remnant of interview footage I unearthed was a degraded and grainy 21-second clip from the 1992 Dutch documentary <a href="https://faroutmagazine.co.uk/nick-cave-documentary-stranger-in-a-strange-land/">Stranger in a Strange Land</a>, where Anita, otherworldly, responds to an unheard question, presumably posed by filmmaker Bram Van Splunteren. “Well, he really does have a muse,” she says of Cave, in her distinctive doll voice, “and it’s not me. It’s a real one.”</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/BpP9iWupUo0?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Trailer for Autoluminescent: Rowland S. Howard – Anita did not participate.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Anita was precocious from an early age, with an organically <a href="https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-fluxus-movement-art-museums-galleries">Fluxus</a> experimental bent, and she was known for being a fount of inventive ideas that mostly vaporised once aired. As a visual artist, she had an assured hand that could magic an image in a streak of fast lines. Her eagle eye for weakness informed her merciless caricatures, and she often turned that laser vision against herself.</p>
<p>Bronwyn Adams/Bonney, a violinist with <a href="http://crimeandthecitysolution.org/">Crime & the City Solution</a>, says Anita was always busy “doing little drawings and making artworks” in a homely, creative practice mode. Cave confirms this, declaring that she would sit at his kitchen table sketching with a “clear, light line full of humour, throwing each drawing away and starting another”.</p>
<p>Anita was a disarmingly singular person. Yet, she is also the epitome of a certain kind of restless, unorthodox, creative young woman who came of age in the vapour trail of postwar nuclear-family modernism, transmuted by the 1960s and 70s counterculture. </p>
<p>Unconventional women coming up in the 70s and 80s were influenced by various art and fashion movements of the 20th century and second-wave feminism, but mainstream culture was still trapped in a patriarchal time warp. Anita grew up in the crosshairs of that cultural tension, oblivious to the looming, corporatised arts sector of the future. During that period, artistically inclined young people concentrated in inner cities, mostly surviving on the dole, dressing in op-shop fare, and often self-medicating on the regular. </p>
<p>In Sydney and Melbourne, hard drugs were everywhere, and were relatively plentiful and cheap. Some say heroin flowed so freely due to America turning a blind eye to poppy production and distribution during the dubious alliance between the US and the Taliban. Heroin was funnelled through Southeast Asia and ferried into Australia on private boats. </p>
<p>In the indie music milieu, we ran in packs, taking hours getting ready to records played loud, heading out to navigate dark clubs and suburban pubs when most were settling down to sleep. There were state-based rivalries, die-hard cliques, and miscellaneous sub-genres – sometimes allied, sometimes warring – and allegiances were forged and broken with the furore of ancient battlefields. Computers were in the realm of <a href="https://theconversation.com/50-years-old-2001-a-space-odyssey-still-offers-insight-about-the-future-102303">2001: A Space Odyssey</a> science-fiction; some of us didn’t even have a landline. People <em>visited each other</em>, dropping in with new vinyl or some stash. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/five-reasons-andy-warhol-is-so-popular-right-now-179865">Five reasons Andy Warhol is so popular right now</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>The art school scene</h2>
<p>According to Bronwyn, a “near-mystical synchronicity” led to the core posse of the Melbourne art-music underworld finding each other in the pre-Ballroom St Kilda days circa 1978. </p>
<p>Bronwyn attended alternative Swinburne Community School, which brought her into contact with <a href="https://www.perimeterbooks.com/products/peter-milne-juvenilia">Peter Milne</a>, soon-to-be scene photographer and visual artist, and others who would become key players. For reasons that aren’t entirely clear, Anita had moved to Era, a “progressive” co-ed secondary school. </p>
<p>From there, she enrolled to study at Prahran art school (later amalgamated with the Victorian College of the Arts) where she befriended fellow student Rowland S. Howard. Rowland had declared himself the future of rock and roll aged 15; he went on to become a guitarist in <a href="https://www.discogs.com/artist/78466-The-Boys-Next-Door">The Boys Next Door</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Birthday_Party_(band)">The Birthday Party</a> – and later, a solo artist. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lp41tokijrc?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Anita Lane, solo artist, performing ‘Jesus Almost Got Me’.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>By all accounts, though Anita was outstanding as a visual artist, she lacked ambition and focus. As Cave <a href="https://au.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/nick-cave-anita-lane-tribute-25754/">detailed</a> on his blog, perhaps stretching the point, having secured a place at the “most prestigious art college in Australia”, Anita purchased an easel and some materials and “never went back in”. As Bronwyn says, “Her art was like drawing a perfect circle in the sand, and then the sea coming in and washing it away, and that was what she liked.” </p>
<p>Bronwyn recalls visiting Peter’s house, where Rowland was working on a logo for a xeroxed fanzine, Pulp, with his art-school friend in tow. “I’d heard about Anita and her best friend, Lisa Creswell, and how great they were,” says Bronwyn. “She hadn’t dyed her hair red yet. I think it was dark blonde. She had big eyes. A perfect, small nose and very full lips. She had these slender, Florentine hands. She had pale skin, very light, but with a gold tinge. Long legs, coltish.” </p>
<p>Anita wasn’t driven by trends, but she had a look: miniskirts, boots, and baby doll dresses. “She’d wear hot pants with a bib and sew a big heart on the front. She had her own aesthetic and philosophy,” but at a certain point, “she lost interest in being a clothes horse.” </p>
<p>Anita’s avant-garde edge and flair for creative expressions were evident. “She was an amazing fashion designer, but she didn’t do anything with it; she just did drawings of dresses. She wrote poetry, but she was more focused on visual art. She could have sculpted. She could have done anything.”</p>
<p>Anita was the kind of person who obsessed people. Many, including an adolescent and delicate Rowland S. Howard, were unrequitedly in love with her before Nick Cave entranced her into her first serious (albeit rocky and fitful) relationship and a lasting artistic camaraderie. They reportedly got together at a party in 1977, a few months after that nucleus formed. Cave took her to the Hilton for breakfast the following day, which was about as posh and passionate as a suburban boy could get.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/486021/original/file-20220922-26-pcat36.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A red-haired young woman and dark-haired man in suit and tie. Anita Lane and Nick Cave" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/486021/original/file-20220922-26-pcat36.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/486021/original/file-20220922-26-pcat36.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/486021/original/file-20220922-26-pcat36.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/486021/original/file-20220922-26-pcat36.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/486021/original/file-20220922-26-pcat36.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/486021/original/file-20220922-26-pcat36.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/486021/original/file-20220922-26-pcat36.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Anita Lane and Nick Cave. Polaroid.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jessamy Calkin</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Anita was 17, Nick was 19, and overnight, despite their youth, they became a power couple, emitting an instantly unified force-field of cool – though Anita was never self-consciously cool, as so many underground luminaries were. The Boys Next Door gigged around Melbourne furiously, and by 1979 the original cluster of 25 or so had boomed exponentially and congregated at the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crystal_Ballroom_(Melbourne)">Crystal Ballroom</a>. </p>
<p>From there, Nick and Anita were launched onto their shared (if disparate) paths of prominence. He courted and fashioned global reputation with a product-centric, indefatigable work ethic. She made her mark with collaborative and sporadic solo musical offerings. </p>
<p>Bronwyn states that “she was more advanced than him, in terms of her personal vision”. Though encouragement flowed mutually, Anita influenced Nick critically from the start, sometimes styling him and making his clothes. Bronwyn gestures toward the piano key shirt featured in early promo shots of The Boys Next Door, which Cave sports with spiky hair and black eyeliner. </p>
<p>Anita was also an unacknowledged giver to Cave’s taker; he’s implied as much on the public record, bringing to mind John Lennon’s <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2018/oct/06/how-yoko-ono-helped-create-john-lennon-imagine">admirable admission</a> that ego prevented him from attributing Yoko Ono’s influence on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YkgkThdzX-8">Imagine</a> when it was released.</p>
<p>Couplings of creatives are often confounded by complications: creative conflicts, competitiveness, jostling for attention, pique at slights, failed reassurances. Not to mention tempestuous weather patterns involving feelings and sex. Loving a fêted frontman can lead to lashings of pain. While the menfolk of Indietown were generally more restrained than your Led Zeppelins or Mötley Crües, the titillation, temptations and touring inflamed wounds. </p>
<p>Biographical accounts of Cave’s early career during the years they were an intermittent couple make clear that he had affairs. While that worked both ways – and Anita was reportedly friendly towards his other women – there were signs she suffered more than she might have let on. </p>
<p>Other interpersonal intricacies could also play havoc. For instance, a man might find himself dealing (or rather not dealing) with a mentally ill girlfriend. Anita spoke about the depression that dogged her during an interview for <a href="https://www.hachette.com.au/ian-johnston/bad-seed-the-biography-of-nick-cave">Bad Seed: The Biography of Nick Cave</a> in the 1990s. She seemed more outward-looking and available at that time – a period that correlates with the “recovery” revolution in the alternative music community. (Thirlwell asserts Anita led the “clean and sober” charge of the Melbourne crew.) </p>
<p>She told Ian Johnston she was “grieving all the time and pining for something” and carried a burden of sadness “like it was raining in my chest”. But that insight came later, after Cave had achieved fame beyond Australia. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
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</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Rising stars and ‘epic psychodrama’</h2>
<p>During the 70s, first-generation Australian TV kids found a welcome window to the alluring lives of expats who managed to escape the shores of the sleepy Antipodes. There were two standard routes out: Australia to India, for those of a hippyish persuasion, and Australia to London, the heart of the colonial motherland – the major artery for those with more worldly ambitions. </p>
<p>In 1980, having achieved eminence in Australia, The Boys Next Door undertook the Australian bands’ rite of passage. They had renamed the band The Birthday Party by the time the plane touched down at Heathrow, and Anita traded her comfortable family home for dingy squat living in Thatcher’s blighted Britain. </p>
<p>As Cave’s star rose, Anita’s status as a muse snowballed. Though she was creatively active musically, working closely with Cave et al, Anita was, at that point, still viewed by music fans more as the Queen of King Nick’s burgeoning fringe court than an artist in her own name. While he had the confidence of a hundred suns and grew infamously intolerant of the media from a position of cocky resistance, Anita vacillated between being pleased with the jewels in her crown (she once told a friend she considered herself one of the most natural singers she’d ever heard) and nervy uncertainty. </p>
<p>That instability fed a distrust of the gaze of others that saw her recoil from the attention she so effortlessly attracted. “She was leery of putting herself out there because she’d get performance anxiety,” Bronwyn explains. And she had cause to be concerned. “Because people loved her, there was a lot of bitchy gossip. Jealousy. Worship. A poison and treacle mixture.”</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/kGcrrttxv0o?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Nick Cave (with Warren Ellis) performs a tribute to Anita Lane, who he calls ‘one of the original Bad Seeds’, six months after her death.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Trying to keep up with Anita and the on-again, off-again nature of her relationship with Cave is a dizzying exercise; Anita was transnational, traversing borders and men as fluidly as art forms. </p>
<p>By all accounts, Anita and Nick also had trouble keeping track of each other. “Nick would disappear, and then Nick wouldn’t know where Anita was for days on end,” says Thirlwell of the mad London days. At some point, she left Cave for a turbulent stretch in New York with Australian journalist <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nicolas_Rothwell">Nicolas Rothwell</a>, who Bronwyn describes as “Oxbridgey”.</p>
<p>It gets harder to follow her movements after that. But though there were comings and goings across continents, and she and Nick had other lovers of varying significance, their standing in each other’s lives seems to have been unshakeable. </p>
<p>During one of their extended breaks in the mid-80s, Anita moved to Sydney and the Paddington flat, where I met her. After I went to rehab I never saw Anita again. At some point during the mayhem of my “early recovery”, I heard she’d gone to Berlin, where Cave was based. He was struggling to hold it together, and Anita was summoned attend to him. But when she arrived, they spun into a complicated spiral of reciprocal turmoil. </p>
<p>Bronwyn was brought in as an editor on Cave’s novel <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/and-the-ass-saw-the-angel-popular-penguins-9780141045610">And the Ass Saw the Angel</a>, which he was then working on. She tells of their decamping to Hamburg to escape the sycophants that bothered him like flies on a hot day. The three took up residence near the river in a “spooky, warehouse apartment full of dying tropical fish”; the mood was one of “epic psychodrama”. It wasn’t long before they separated again, but Anita stayed on in the northern hemisphere. </p>
<p>Nick moved on to São Paulo and Viviane Carneiro. Anita married German Johannes Beck and her first child, Rafael (known as Raffie) was born. When she left Beck, she moved to Morocco, where she met Andrea Libonati, a Sicilian man who fathered her younger sons, Luciano and Carlito. She purchased an old frescoed apartment in Palermo, where the family lived. </p>
<p>Anita fell back into addiction and after seven years, she and Libonati migrated to Australia, settling in beachy Byron Bay in Northern New South Wales. It’s hard to think of a less likely place for the nocturnal Anita Lane I recall, but those who knew her better than I did say she loved the wilds. In her later years, she took trips to Harvey Bay in Queensland where her parents owned a holiday house. </p>
<p>While it’s tempting to assume Byron promised a child-friendly location, with weather more suited to a Mediterranean partner than Melbourne, someone close to Anita suggests it was a “geographical” – a term for re-locations staged in an attempt to escape addiction. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-punks-legacy-40-years-on-60633">Friday essay: punk's legacy, 40 years on</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Dirty Sings and swan songs</h2>
<p>Like many outside the inner sanctum, I had no idea how gifted Anita was in her own right until her 1988 solo debut, <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/479734-Anita-Lane-Dirty-Sings">Dirty Sings</a>, announced her.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/485263/original/file-20220919-2934-sn1iup.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/485263/original/file-20220919-2934-sn1iup.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/485263/original/file-20220919-2934-sn1iup.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=938&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485263/original/file-20220919-2934-sn1iup.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=938&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485263/original/file-20220919-2934-sn1iup.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=938&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485263/original/file-20220919-2934-sn1iup.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1178&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485263/original/file-20220919-2934-sn1iup.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1178&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485263/original/file-20220919-2934-sn1iup.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1178&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Peter Milne, courtesy of M. 33, Melbourne</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The Anita of that period is captured in my favourite photo of her, taken by Peter Milne and featured in his <a href="https://www.perimeterbooks.com/products/peter-milne-juvenilia">Juvenilia</a> project, an archival retrospective of his work as a young photographer, when he snapped friends who went on to become cultural heavyweights. </p>
<p>It is an image that speaks volumes. Translucent skin. Flaming red hair echoing a velvet orange chair. The trademark Melbourne red lip. The deep periwinkle blue of the dress and the white Peter Pan collar. The rose gold hue of the anonymous space and the superimposed shadow in the form of a disjointed cross, hands resting in her lap and at her throat as if in supplication. And above all, the eyes like the two sides of a quarter moon: one gleaming in a shaft of light, the other waning into darkness like a perfect visual metaphor. </p>
<p>Anita told Johnson the <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/479734-Anita-Lane-Dirty-Sings">Dirty Sings</a> EP was a suicide note and an assertion of the validity of the disparaged and feminised experiences of self-doubt and vulnerability. But it was her 1993 album, <a href="https://www.discogs.com/release/154022-Anita-Lane-Dirty-Pearl">Dirty Pearl</a>, that resounded in the ears of reviewers. These were productive years – or rather, they were the years when her creativity was most captured and manufactured as product. </p>
<p>Boy Next Door/Bad Seed Mick Harvey, acclaimed for keeping Cave’s bands on the road during their most unmanageable stints, was Anita’s most continuous musical partner. She made guest appearances on Harvey’s <a href="https://mute.com/mute/releasing-double-cd-of-his-two-serge-gainsbourg-albums-intoxicated-man-pink-elephants">albums of Serge Gainsbourg covers</a> released in the mid-90s, singing the parts originally performed by the women hailed as Gainsbourg’s muses: Jane Birkin, Brigitte Bardot and Charlotte Gainsbourg (daughter of Serge and Jane). Anita even played some live shows with Harvey, promoting the albums.</p>
<p>Anita also branched out from her longstanding co-writing and guest vocal performances with Cave, Harvey and Co., to work with <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barry_Adamson">Barry Adamson</a> (ex-Magazine and Bad Seeds), <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blixa_Bargeld">Blixa Bargeld</a>, a founding Bad Seed and lead singer of <a href="https://neubauten-org.translate.goog/de/?_x_tr_sl=de&_x_tr_tl=en&_x_tr_hl=en&_x_tr_pto=sc">Einstürzende Neubauten</a>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Die_Haut">Die Haut</a> and musician and DJ <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gudrun_Gut">Gudrun Gut</a>, churning out a wealth of original songs and covers. </p>
<p>Cave has nominated “Stranger Than Kindness” released on the 1986 Bad Seeds album <a href="https://www.nickcave.com/releases/your-funeral-my-trial/">Your Funeral … My Trial</a> (Cave later co-opted the song title for his 2020 book) as his favourite among the songs he’s performed. He notes Anita’s lyrics as a deciding factor, and he’s right to honour her striking poetics. </p>
<p>Cave might view “Stranger Than Kindness” as her signature song, but Anita had another in mind: “The Petrol Wife”, the penultimate song on her last album, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_nZtaatj7cJuzZiF33LcFyH5grBPP11F0s">Sex O'Clock</a> (released in 2001). Anita had every reason to be proud. Of all her songs, “The Petrol Wife” seems the one she most shaped. </p>
<p>It stands out on an album that is more smooth dance-electro than balladeer. A few bars into tender acoustic strumming, her voice kicks in, double-tracked in out-of-time harmonies conveying the subjective fracturing at the heart of a damaging sexual relationship. The lyrics in the fervid verses and chorus hint at danger – and, alludes a close friend, intimate partner violence. It was, in effect, along with the final track <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/4QAIN7eruPb0xngWPNDisD">“Bella Ciao”</a>, a cover of an Italian folk-protest anthem, her swan song. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qgknmBL9GHU?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The Petrol Wife was Anita Lane’s ‘swan song’</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Anita left behind a stellar recording oeuvre. Though her reluctance to publicise narrowed its reach, the music press did her no favours in perpetuating the “muse” label after she surfaced as a solo artist. Even if, as Thirlwell states, “she would cringe at the thought of ‘career’”, she was serious about her art. “Anita never wanted to be a public figure, and at the same time, she’d be upset that her stuff didn’t get recognition,” says Bronwyn, noting her internal conflict.</p>
<h2>The muse – maligned and revered</h2>
<p>There have always been artist-muses. But before the modern technologies that enabled the twinned rise of youth and popular culture in the 1950s, they either dwelled in total obscurity or were actively maligned by society at large (even if they later came to be revered). </p>
<p>Women like <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marianne_Faithfull">Marianne Faithful</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joni_Mitchell">Joni Mitchell</a> were also renowned muses. Faithfull’s prodigious output, staying power, and willingness to play live eventually pushed her to the fore of public consciousness as a singer-songwriter and outstripped her association with Mick Jagger and The Rolling Stones. </p>
<p>Mitchell was famously partnered with Graham Nash, <a href="https://theconversation.com/listening-to-songs-of-leonard-cohen-singing-sadness-to-sadness-in-these-anxious-times-142661">Leonard Cohen</a>, James Taylor, Jackson Browne, Sam Shepard and others during the 60s and 70s – but her genius as a songwriter and singer and crossover from folkie to the big time soon overwhelmed her muse status.</p>
<figure>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Marianne Faithfull’s first hit, As Tears Go By, was by Mick Jagger and Keith Jones.</span></figcaption>
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<p>Anita was, like them, slim, fair, finely featured, with a Monroesque appeal that combined innocence with sexiness. Beauty, it seems, is in the “muse” job description. </p>
<p>The gendered slant hails from <a href="https://theconversation.com/conversing-with-the-divine-why-we-still-need-our-muses-37051">ancient Greek mythology</a>: the daughters of Mnemosyne, the goddess of memory, and Zeus, the king of the gods, served as guides for art or science. Chaucer popularised the term in the late 1300s, and the “muse” was linked to lyrical poetry in Europe. </p>
<p>The timing was no accident. It followed the advent of chivalry and romantic and courtly love during the Middle Ages, when knights took platonic succour from married noblewomen in return for undying loyalty. The “muse” as a noun grew more democratised over time (if still somewhat class-based), coming to signify the capacity of a human goddess to move a man to make art. </p>
<p>Critiquing the idea of the muse doesn’t mean rejecting the potential for creative inspiration across genders. It merely interrogates the notion of the fetishised flesh-and-blood muse who treads a one-way, gender-binaried, heteronormative street in the service of men. </p>
<p>There were outlier queer women artists who were considered galvanising for well-known men, such as <a href="https://guitar.com/features/interviews/the-revolution-wendy-melvoin-lisa-coleman-recording-performing-with-prince/">Wendy and Lisa</a> of Prince and the Revolution (who maintained a long-term lesbian relationship). But they weren’t fussed over as muses, the way straight women have been. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">Wendy and Lisa, who performed with Prince, ‘weren’t fussed over as muses’ – and broke away as a duo.</span></figcaption>
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<p>The dynamics in the indie music environment both mirrored and defied established gender politics. The guys, generally benign and progressive compared to most men of the day, were nevertheless heavily conditioned by the patriarchy that came before them. And, of course, some were more enlightened than others. </p>
<p>The men Anita worked with understood she was their equal and more. Anita was less accessible and public-facing than those men – and the women who made the top-40 charts. But the bottom line is: men can fly under the radar and be seen to matter to the ordinary eye, and women who break through to the mainstream gain visibility. But women like Anita, steadfastly subcultural artist-muses in the shadow of men who pull focus, slip down the cracks. </p>
<p>Anita garnered a devoted cult following and is not to be pitied. But injustice is done to women hampered by “muse” shackles when their under-appreciated creative pulses pump so ardently. In short, her associations and collaborations with more famous men robbed her of due recognition for being inspired as well as inspiring. </p>
<p>Masculinity remains the naturalised centre of talent and success in the industry, which labours the gender of women musicians. Donita Sparks, guitarist and vocalist of American grunge-metal band L7, disclosed the tiresome burden of being a “girl band” in a <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt6288290/">recent documentary</a>. L7, mates of Cave’s from the 1994 Lollapalooza tour, have also been outspoken about the disproportional levels of abuse women experience.</p>
<p>A <a href="https://musicindustryreview.com.au/">music industry review </a>into “sexual harm, sexual harassment and systemic discrimination in the contemporary Australian music industry and recommendations for reform” was recently published. Most women I know in the industry could readily contribute. Sexual violence was then, as it is now, a perpetual threat. </p>
<p>As Bronwyn confirms, “We were focused on not getting raped and dealing with constantly being catcalled and followed and groped.” We were also, the odd exception aside, inflicted with learned self-loathing and irking insecurities. “We suffered from Girlitis,” says Bronwyn. “You catch it from society.” </p>
<p>That structural setup alone can cause psychic schisms that undermine women artists. And most families are a theatre of harm by degrees. No rattling skeletons jump out when digging into Anita’s history – but there are intimations of discord in the suburban pastoral family portrait.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/with-the-strokes-of-a-guitar-solo-joni-mitchell-showed-us-how-our-female-music-elders-are-super-punks-188075">With the strokes of a guitar solo, Joni Mitchell showed us how our female music elders are super punks</a>
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<h2>Suburban beginnings</h2>
<p>Anita was raised by middle-aged parents in Glen Iris, in southeast Melbourne. Divided by Gardiners Creek, it was quiet and hilly with a distant view of the Dandenong mountains – a dull place for a girl child of the 1960s and 70s. Anita reminisced affectionately about the leafy concrete streets populated with freestanding art-deco houses and red-brick postwar homes. Her own house was, says Bronwyn, “ramshackle”. Glen Iris had no pub and only the questionably named brutalist Harold Holt Memorial Swimming Centre on High Street for a landmark. Like many Australian burbs at that time, it had a Chinese restaurant for a spot of cuisine diversity. </p>
<p>Anita’s family weren’t bohemian or oddball, and there doesn’t seem to be obvious context for Anita’s eccentricity. She adored her father, who had been in the air force and had likely seen war (a touching image can be found on the internet of a young Anita with her aged dad). She had a fraught relationship with her mother, whom she thought a conformist and experienced as intrusive. And she had a considerably older brother.</p>
<p>Anita grew up a girly girl, loving pretty things: Bambi, swans, and other stereotypical embodiments of purity and goodness. This appreciation for cuteness stayed with her throughout her adulthood. By the time the Ballroom scene had sprung to life, and Anita was an arty teen writing poems and sketching, her folks were senior citizens.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/485255/original/file-20220919-27-bnbvqe.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/485255/original/file-20220919-27-bnbvqe.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/485255/original/file-20220919-27-bnbvqe.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485255/original/file-20220919-27-bnbvqe.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485255/original/file-20220919-27-bnbvqe.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=442&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485255/original/file-20220919-27-bnbvqe.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=555&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485255/original/file-20220919-27-bnbvqe.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=555&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485255/original/file-20220919-27-bnbvqe.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=555&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Anita Lane grew up a ‘girly girl’, loving pretty things.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jessamy Calkin/Mute</span></span>
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<p>After her relationship with Libonati ended, Anita returned with her growing boys to the Glen Iris family home to care for her mother, who had developed Alzheimer’s – having outlived her husband. Juggling rowdy youngsters and an aged parent with a progressive neurological disorder must have been a tough, tiring stint. </p>
<p>“Anita was running on lots of different platforms,” explains <a href="https://www.emilyhumphries.website/">Emily Humphries</a>, a fellow visual artist and Anita’s most stalwart, hands-on friend and staunchest art champion during the last ten years of her life. “Her door was open, and her house was filled with teenagers to 20-somethings she was taking care of. That was a big thing for her, the housing of humanity.”</p>
<p>Following the 2001 release of Sex O’Clock (re-released in 2021 on its 20th anniversary), Anita drifted away from songwriting. She made no statement about renouncing solo recording. Most likely, it wasn’t even a conscious decision. She refocused, <a href="https://jonimitchell.com/paintings/">like Joni Mitchell</a>, on visual art.</p>
<p>The “Mary Rug”, which showed in a 2017 exhibition in St Kilda curated by Humphries, was the last major artwork Anita produced and made public. She painted her “infinite prayer”, as Emily calls it, on a massive cut of carpet in her garden in a zoned frenzy. Emily describes how Anita stained the rug to sully it, transforming it to create a portrait of a trio of women: shimmering, bloodied, and metaphorically walked upon. Sorrow meets the archetypal. Anita was an “ephemeral” artist, says Emily. “She danced her work through the kitsch and familiar scraps of objects.”</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/485265/original/file-20220919-22-mcc5ue.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/485265/original/file-20220919-22-mcc5ue.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/485265/original/file-20220919-22-mcc5ue.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485265/original/file-20220919-22-mcc5ue.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485265/original/file-20220919-22-mcc5ue.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485265/original/file-20220919-22-mcc5ue.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485265/original/file-20220919-22-mcc5ue.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/485265/original/file-20220919-22-mcc5ue.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo by Elena Popa/provided by Emily Humphries</span></span>
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<p>Anita was “a people person”, according to Thirlwell. Close friends say she gradually withdrew and became less socially active due to a combination of health issues (including diabetes) and her lifelong introversion. Emily describes the latter as a hypersensitivity which, coupled with Anita’s super-intelligence, made being out among it tremendously taxing.</p>
<p>When her mother died, having spent a couple of years in residential aged care, Anita sold the Glen Iris house. She missed Europe but struggled to get her health up to speed for travel, so she relocated to a house in hipster Collingwood. Her sons were living independently, returning for spells, and she passed her days pottering and making art.</p>
<p>Emily insists that despite her struggles, Anita “maintained an air of punk” and her artist’s eye was still sharp. She was “busy decorating the universe”. There she sits, insect-like, six pairs of glasses poised on her head. Next, she’s setting up tripods with light fittings fixed on them, dressing them up in tutus to create the illusion of tentacled jellyfish, and pondering opening a rehab for women. </p>
<p>She was also, according to Emily, an avid Googler. “If she loved you, she would research stuff for you.” If she was on your team, she was always on the case. And she retained her sense of humour: “She was probably the funniest person I’ve ever met.” That’s a remarkable statement, given that Emily is the daughter of comedian <a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-barry-humphries-humour-is-now-history-thats-the-fate-of-topical-satirical-comedy-117499">Barry Humphries</a> and his second wife, dancer Rosalind Tong.</p>
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<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/male-artists-dominate-galleries-our-research-explored-if-its-because-women-dont-paint-very-well-or-just-discrimination-189221">Male artists dominate galleries. Our research explored if it’s because ‘women don’t paint very well’ – or just discrimination</a>
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<h2>Seasoned women artists</h2>
<p>The women artists of Anita’s generation are maturing in an environment hostile to ageing, and to artists of all persuasions who aren’t big names – in a culture that equates promise and productivity with youth. Many still working navigate economic hardship, thanks to decades of prioritising art over financial planning. </p>
<p>“Anita’s divine energy was for her art, but her pulse externally was low because she was drained by ill health and trying to support boys with barely any money,” says Emily, expressing anger at “the lack of understanding and economic support available to genuinely creative women”.</p>
<p>Some of us survived long and well enough to shake off Girlitis, awakening from its fevered dream to a formidable lucid power. No longer dependent on the affirmation of our worth, we know it – finally, fiercely (on a good day). </p>
<p>But that doesn’t fund our art. Neoliberal governments in countries like Australia and the UK have systematically cut arts funding to scraps. While Anita eventually had the benefit of an inheritance, many don’t.</p>
<p>For most of her last decade, Anita had a partner – a reserved IT type keeping nine-to-five hours, who assumed the role of stepfather to her children. The demise of that relationship, about a year before she died, left Anita unmoored, suggests Emily.</p>
<h2>Farewelling Anita</h2>
<p>There’s a tendency to speak of compulsive self-harm in clichés: the Dimmed Bright Young Thing, the Rock n’ Roll Suicide, the Plath Melancholic. But moral platitudes elide the heartbreak in and for each afflicted life. Those forced to watch the narrative unfold find themselves in a dreadful dilemma. As Thirlwell puts it, </p>
<blockquote>
<p>worrying about Anita was like worrying about the weather. There’s not much you could do about it.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Anita was aware her friends and family were concerned. She told Emily that Cave had described witnessing her periodic returns to destructive patterns as beholding “a crime against God”. “She spoke a lot about Nick,” Emily confirms. “He was terribly important to her. It was a constant friendship.” Her mighty life-force pushed back again and again, but hope and confidence faded. She fell prey to the belief she could not be helped. </p>
<p>Yet Anita is not a wretched figure; Emily speaks for many when she says, </p>
<blockquote>
<p>I want her brilliance known beyond a sense of tragedy. I want her properly placed in Australia’s creative heritage and the world sphere.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>No cause of death was announced. Fans expressed disbelief, friends mourned, and her people closed ranks, tight-lipped ever since, apart from the occasional oblique lapse, like Cave’s blog reference to the “rampant, unstable, fatal energy” that made it “both easy and terrifying to love her”. </p>
<p>Anita, mysterious to the end, defied obvious conclusions in death as she had in life; it seems her last months and weeks involved a complex scenario, and there were multiple contributing factors to her untimely passing. As Thirlwell says emphatically, “Anita would have liked to have stayed around for her kids. She loved them very much.”</p>
<p>Perhaps it’s just as well she stepped away from the industry when she did, since the contemporary music landscape is relentlessly characterised by the kind of self-promotion and marketing she loathed. As Bronwyn lamented in an anguished public Facebook post paying tribute to Anita, “high functioning brand-driven professionalism is the go”. </p>
<p>I binge-watched YouTube videos the day I heard the news. In the clip for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vrniVTXH5-o">“The World’s a Girl”</a>, co-written with Harvey, black-and-white and sepia shadows flicker beguilingly out of focus, and Anita dances around Morocco, hair wind-swept, like a dervish outlier Bardot. She frolics with sly, sultry humour amid religious iconography, Hollywood Golden Age glamour, and subversive symbolism in the monochrome video for the country-twanging <a href="https://youtu.be/lp41tokijrc">“Jesus Almost Got Me”</a>. And she bounces through the clip for her cover (with Barry Adamson) of “These Boots Are Made For Walking” holding her unfazed baby. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">In ‘These Boots Are Made for Walking’</span></figcaption>
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<p>Anita rarely sang in public, afflicted with stage fright, so it was a treat to discover footage of a 1992 live performance of <a href="https://sonichits.com/video/Anita_Lane_%26_Blixa_Bargeld/Subterranean_World_(How_Long...)">“Subterranean World (How Long Have We Known Each Other Now?)”</a>. Anita, in duet with Blixa Bargeld, is playfully tender, and appears relaxed. She beams at the end of the ode to friendship, when Bargeld kisses her cheek as the last notes sound. </p>
<p>How, I wondered, did she feel about herself as an artist in those final years? Emily tells a illuminating secondhand story. </p>
<p>She describes meeting a younger woman at an event, who mentioned Anita. They chatted, and the woman said, “You know I saw her in a 7/11 late one night in St Kilda.” She recounted how she told Anita, awestruck, they had met years before. She didn’t expect Anita to remember a transitory moment with a “nonentity” and was stunned when Anita recalled the exact time and place. The younger woman gushed, and Anita looked to the ground and said, “I’m surprised you even know who I am.”</p>
<p>Anita’s wake was rescheduled several times during the COVID-19 pandemic, when Melbourne spent 262 days under restrictive public health orders – enduring lockdown after lockdown. It went ahead in March 2022 at Abbotsford Convent on the Yarra River, a grand medieval compound that was once a Catholic nunnery and is now a thriving multi-arts precinct. </p>
<p>The prevailing Ballroomers came out in force, gathering in a high-ceilinged room fragrant with flowers. One attendee declared the ambience “celestial”, while another suggests the vibe was less spiritually embracing for those outside the cloistered in-crowd. </p>
<p>The many guises of Anita were projected, and there was a shrine of her art and personal mementos. There was no live music, though there had previously been plans along those lines. Her son’s eulogies brought tears to eyes, and the youngest read a letter written by the Brussels-based artist Marcus Bergner. Bronwyn spoke, erudite and heartfelt. International friends like Thirlwell and Kid Congo Zoomed in, Nick streaming silently among them. There was a bar, and people sat around talking about Anita, who was long gone and more ethereal than ever.</p>
<p>In the early 2000s, she recorded vocals for the English version of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dr0XTtshpnU">“Blume”</a>, an atmospheric track by Einstürzende Neubauten, which she co-wrote and performed in duet with Bargeld. Anita does not appear in the official video (though interestingly, PJ Harvey can be clocked miming into a bullhorn in a split-second cameo). </p>
<p>In a voice that contains multitudes, described as “haunting babygirl” by Joel Gausten, she sings of being a supernova before ascending to a gloriously eerie chorus and trailing off into a guttural spoken-word German whisper that seems to emanate from an arcane mist.</p>
<p>And I can’t think of a more fitting elegy. </p>
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<p><em>Clarification: After publication, Mick Harvey contacted the author to inform us that he had never received her interview requests. He says he would have been willing to have been interviewed for this essay.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/188815/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Meera Atkinson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>After Anita Lane died, former collaborator Nick Cave said she “despised the concept of the muse but was everybody’s”. Meera Atkinson highlights her achievements – with help from those who knew her.Meera Atkinson, Adjunct Lecturer in Writing, University of Notre Dame AustraliaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1864942022-07-11T13:45:31Z2022-07-11T13:45:31ZHow The Clash’s Joe Strummer inspired progressive politics in his fans<p><a href="https://www.joestrummer.com/about">Joe Strummer</a>, lead singer and lyricist for the seminal punk band, <a href="https://www.theclash.com/">The Clash</a>, died 20 years ago this December. Strummer, the son of a British senior civil servant and whose real name was John Graham Mellor, wrote songs that did not shy away from the politics of the Thatcher era or situations affecting society around the world.</p>
<p>The Clash had six studio albums, which featured 16 top-40 hits, including Rock the Casbah and I Fought the Law. After his death, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/uk/2002/dec/23/artsfeatures.clash">the Guardian noted</a> that Strummer was a “political inspiration for a generation” and “<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/uk/2002/dec/24/arts.artsnews1">the political conscience of punk</a>”.</p>
<p>I spoke to more than 100 individuals of different ages and genders from different generations, countries and continents for my book: <a href="https://manchesteruniversitypress.co.uk/9781526148988/">The punk rock politics of Joe Strummer: Radicalism, resistance and rebellion</a>, I found that his music has had a profound impact on the politics of many, leading some to left-wing activism. Among their number are many union leaders in Britain today, including <a href="https://www.tuc.org.uk/person/matt-wrack">Matt Wrack</a> of the <a href="https://fbu.org.uk/">Fire Brigades Union</a>, who <a href="https://www.standard.co.uk/news/london/london-s-calling-tribute-to-mark-ten-years-since-last-show-of-clash-s-joe-strummer-7792858.html">said</a>): “Firefighters are immensely proud of our links with Joe Strummer and what he stood for politically and as a musician.”</p>
<p>According to many of those I spoke to, the lyrics in the music of The Clash provided them with an effective but unconventional initial education about issues in Britain and further afield such as unemployment and sub-standard housing in Britain as well as various political causes globally, such as the struggle of the Sandinista movement in Nicaragua in the 1980s. </p>
<h2>Political lyrics</h2>
<p>Two Strummer songs stand out in particular for those that I spoke to. The first is Spanish Bombs from the band’s third album, London Calling (1979), which was primarily about the Spanish Civil War of 1936-1939, Strummer sings: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>The freedom fighters died upon the hill<br>
They sang the red flag<br>
They wore the black one…<br>
The hillsides ring with “Free the people”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>As a song about the democratically elected Republican government’s struggle against Francisco Franco’s fascist military coup, it recounts how socialists, communists, republicans and anarchists fought together for freedom, liberty and equality. Spanish Bombs led many who gave me testimonials to read the likes of George Orwell’s <a href="https://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/george-orwell-homage-to-catalonia">Homage to Catalonia</a>. </p>
<p>The song also provided a historical example of active resistance to fascism when a hard right nationalism was <a href="https://warwick.ac.uk/services/library/mrc/studying/docs/racism/1970s/">on the rise in Britain</a> in the late 1970s. The fringe National Front political party ran on an extreme anti-immigrant platform in the 1970s, using racist slogans and pamphlets to attract members. This was in turn met with an increasingly vocal reaction from musicians like Strummer and the Rock Against Racism movement.</p>
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<h2>An international outlook</h2>
<p>The band’s fourth album, Sandinista!, released in 1980, embraced the cause of the Sandinista rebels against the Somoza regime in Nicaragua and attacked US attempts to underime the revolution. The Somoza family headed up a murderous and repressive dictatorship from the 1930s, which was propped up by the US and which fell in 1979 as a result of a popular armed rebellion led by the Sandinistas.</p>
<p>Strummer’s song Washington Bullets references the anti-democratic effects of American imperialism in central and south America, from the 1959 Cuban Revolution to the Nicaraguan Sandinistas of the 1980s, with mention of America’s aborted Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba in 1961 and the assassination of Chile’s Salvador Allende at the hands of the Chilean military dictatorship in 1973. In it, he sings:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>As every cell in Chile will tell<br>
The cries of the tortured men<br>
Remember Allende</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The song then details what happened when the US withdrew its support from the Nicaraguan Somoza regime:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>When they had a revolution in Nicaragua<br>
There was no interference from America<br>
The people fought the leader<br>
And up he flew<br>
Without any Washington bullets, what else could he do?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Strummer explains that despite repression, resistance is possible – and can be successful. His anger in the song is not just directed against Washington but also against British, Chinese and Russian imperialism. Not only did some of those I spoke to join the Nicaragua Solidarity Committee but a few also went to work as volunteers in Nicaragua to support the Sandinista revolution. </p>
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<h2>Seeking knowledge</h2>
<p>Many of those I spoke to recounted to me that before the era of the internet, they went to public libraries to find out more about these issues. From there, they started to form radical worldviews and began to join campaigns such as the anti-apartheid movement and the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. Many also joined trade unions and left-wing political parties such as the Labour Party. And, with their interest piqued, they began to read widely.</p>
<p>Strummer was able to reach people through his music. His songs not only made people dance but through their radical messages, they were able to inspire some fans to action. Whether it be fascism and imperialism or over environmental destruction (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EfK-WX2pa8c&ab_channel=theclashVEVO">London Calling</a>), fighting racism (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_lt4O-EHNnw&ab_channel=theclashVEVO">Working for the Clampdown</a>) and Thatcherism (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L4YtR9SsY2Q&ab_channel=Crustdisplacement">This is England</a>) he moved people. </p>
<p>Strummer was seldom explicit about what listeners should then do – his songs tended to be more informative and inspirational than instructional. But he was nevertheless always clear that activism was positive and necessary to effect change. The Clash’s first single in 1977, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvG3is7Bm1w&ab_channel=theclashVEVO">White Riot</a>, encouraged disaffected young white people to fight against political corruption and police brutality as their black brethren had. In <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xu1EkzulHCM&ab_channel=accounthaver">Working for the Clampdown</a> from the band’s 1979 album London Calling, he issued this call to arms: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Kick over the wall, cause governments to fall.<br>
How can you refuse it?<br>
Let fury have the hour, anger can be power.<br>
Do you know that you can use it?</p>
</blockquote><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/186494/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Gregor Gall is a member of the Facebook group, Clash Fans Against The Right.</span></em></p>From songs on the Spanish revolution to others on American Imperialism, Strummer’s lyrics inspired a generation of music-lovers to action.Gregor Gall, Affiliate Research Associate, School of Political and Social Sciences, University of GlasgowLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1857292022-06-27T13:06:02Z2022-06-27T13:06:02ZWhat it really meant to be punk in Britain<p>There is a current surge of interest in punk. The <a href="https://www.nme.com/news/music/sex-pistols-god-save-the-queen-becomes-top-selling-single-in-uk-for-platinum-jubilee-3239877">Sex Pistols’ God Save the Queen</a> topped the UK singles charts during the Platinum Jubilee. This was 45 years to the day after it controversially didn’t when originally released at the time of the Silver Jubilee. </p>
<p>Famed director Danny Boyle has also turned his hand to dramatising the life of the band in his series <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9KhxwG0eCiE">Pistol</a>, which traces the evolution of the Sex Pistols and the UK punk rock movement that grew out of London in the 1970s. The series, based on the autobiography of Pistols guitarist Steve Jones, has been the subject of controversy, including <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2021/aug/23/sex-pistols-win-legal-fight-against-johnny-rotten-songs-pistol-tv-series">legal battles</a> with former Sex Pistols’ frontman John Lydon who tried to prevent the use of their music. The lead singer <a href="https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/sex-pistol-johnny-rotten-how-i-became-my-wifes-carer-0dbxpxgxt">dubbed the show</a>: “the most disrespectful shit I ever had to endure”.</p>
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<p><em><strong><a href="https://theconversation.com/uk/topics/quarter-life-117947?utm_source=TCUK&utm_medium=linkback&utm_campaign=UK+YP2022&utm_content=InArticleTop">This article is part of Quarter Life</a></strong>, a series about issues affecting those of us in our twenties and thirties. From the challenges of beginning a career and taking care of our mental health, to the excitement of starting a family, adopting a pet or just making friends as an adult. The articles in this series explore the questions and bring answers as we navigate this turbulent period of life.</em></p>
<p><em>You may be interested in:</em></p>
<p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/year-zero-for-british-punk-was-1976-but-there-had-long-been-anarchy-in-the-usa-61329?utm_source=TCUK&utm_medium=linkback&utm_campaign=UK+YP2022&utm_content=InArticleTop">Year zero for British punk was 1976 – but there had long been anarchy in the USA</a></em></p>
<p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/no-future-40-years-since-sex-pistols-stuck-two-fingers-up-at-the-british-establishment-84728?utm_source=TCUK&utm_medium=linkback&utm_campaign=UK+YP2022&utm_content=InArticleTop">No future: 40 years since Sex Pistols stuck two fingers up at the British establishment</a></em></p>
<p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/cluttercore-gen-zs-revolt-against-millennial-minimalism-is-grounded-in-victorian-excess-182706?utm_source=TCUK&utm_medium=linkback&utm_campaign=UK+YP2022&utm_content=InArticleTop">Cluttercore: Gen Z’s revolt against millennial minimalism is grounded in Victorian excess</a></em></p>
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<p>Almost all genres in popular music have subcultural connotations, signifying style in clothes and moral values. But arguably no other genre has stronger subcultural currency than punk. Musician and lead singer of the band Talking Heads, <a href="https://quotedark.com/quote/punk-was-defined-by-an-attitude-rather-than-a-mus__david-byrne">David Byrne said</a> that “punk was defined by an attitude rather than a musical style”. So what did it mean to be punk?</p>
<h2>Rejection of the musical establishment and political authority</h2>
<p>Unlike “prog” and “glam” rock before it, punk was anti-establishment, anti-mainstream and anti-commercial. It came to be in the early to mid-1970s when music had become less accessible, and to the next generation of audience, less relatable. This happened to coincide with a period of <a href="https://journals.openedition.org/rfcb/1662">economic decline and growing social unrest</a>. It was a time when the youth of the day felt like their future was fairly bleak. </p>
<p>Breaking through the high-brow attitude and elitism was central to the punk attitude. The names of early British punk bands, such as the Clash, the Stranglers and the Damned, served as statements of both belligerence and provocation. </p>
<p>The Damned’s <a href="https://www.loudersound.com/features/the-10-best-punk-rock-singles-by-the-undertones-michael-bradley">New Rose</a> was considered to be one of the first UK punk records, released in October 1976. The track was comprised of aggressive energetic drumming (played by the curiously named Rat Scabies), raw distorted, riffing rhythm guitar (switching on occasions to lead parts), underpinned by the bass guitarist attacking the root notes of the guitar chords. Chord sequences were simple and sometimes jarring by way of less obvious progressions. Vocals were sitting somewhere between being sung, spoken and shouted. </p>
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<p>Thematically, punk lyrics were often antagonistic, challenging society’s “norms”. Songs like Anarchy in the UK (1976) by the Sex Pistols, gave voice to a young generation that felt <a href="https://consequence.net/2021/08/best-punk-songs-list/11/">disenfranchised by its own country</a>. </p>
<p>Punk was never limiting and was not subject to gender bias in the way preceding types of rock music were. Many females were active contributors and participants, of particular note were <a href="https://www.discogs.com/artist/80501-Siouxsie-The-Banshees?page=1">Susan Ballion aka Siouxsie Sioux</a>, who fronted the iconic punk group Siouxsie and the Banshees, and style icon <a href="https://www.vogue.co.uk/arts-and-lifestyle/article/pamela-rooke-jordan-has-died">Pamela Rooke aka Jordan</a> (the Queen of Punk). </p>
<p>It is worth noting that across the Atlantic there was also a burgeoning punk scene that preceded the UK punk movement. New York’s CBGB club, opened by Hilly Kristal in 1973, provided a place for the scene to crystallise. The Ramones, Televisionm The Voidoids, Blondie, the Patti Smith Group and Talking Heads all played early gigs there, going on to achieve prominence.</p>
<h2>What punk meant to the ‘original’ punks?</h2>
<p>Music journalist John Robb, who was also a vocalist in the punk rock band <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goldblade">Goldblade</a> and bassist and vocalist in the post-punk band <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Membranes">the Membranes</a> opined:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>It is impossible to define punk. It is subjective and means something different to everyone… [it is] exciting, confusing, exhilarating, an unpinned grenade, intellectual but not academic, revolutionary. It tore a hole in the fabric of pop culture and we all got through.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Punk was multifaceted and was many things to many people. Something that was felt, enabling, empowering, contradictory, manifesting through individual and collective expression, but perhaps to understand what it was in the beginning, you had to be there.</p>
<p>The musician Peter Hook’s origin story is firmly rooted in punk, in particular a <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/articles/4f0B5rf6z2wYQpm5WNqsqP7/they-swear-they-were-there-sex-pistols-at-the-lesser-free-trade-hall">Sex Pistols concert</a> at the Lesser Free Trade Hall in Manchester in June 1976. It was reported to have been attended by around only 40 people, but many of them went on to become culturally important figures in British music. It was this event that inspired Hook the next day to buy a bass guitar and hatch a plan to form a band. He would become a founding member of Joy Division, which became New Order after the death of singer Ian Curtis.</p>
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<p>For dance music pioneer and co-founder of 808 State, Graham Massey, one of his first bands was the punk group Danny and the Dressmakers. <a href="https://youtu.be/GjB2VG8zejo">He has described</a> how he was denied access to music education at school:</p>
<p>“With the spirit of rebellion, I entered music around the time of punk where no musical ability was required. There was a great spirit of just jumping in and making a noise.”</p>
<p>The fact that musical training and virtuosity were not required meant that punk was not confined to musical elites and deep-pocketed institutions as it had largely been in the past. Massey also talked about “the creative thrill” of “reinvention” in the wake of the dismantling of the musical establishment.</p>
<p>The DIY spirit was very much part of the movement. Punks created fanzines, bands created their own labels and people made their own clothes as a form of cultural expression. Manchester band, The Buzzcocks and their manager Richard Boon created New Hormones, the first independent punk rock label in the UK. They were also responsible for organising the Sex Pistols’ Manchester gig attended by Hook, and others.</p>
<p>From the late 1970s, punk lost its initial cultural impetus and fragmented (as is always the case with musical and cultural waves), into such styles as anarcho-punk, street-punk and gothic-punk. These movements subsequently gave rise to further new movements (including the new wave). However, the very term “punk” lives on used to describe nonconformity and subversion.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/185729/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The sounds and attitude of punk were all about not conforming to the norm and rebelling against all that came before it.Ewa Mazierska, Professor of Film Studies, University of Central LancashireTony Rigg, Lecturer in Music Industry Management, University of Central LancashireLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1658622021-09-22T17:55:18Z2021-09-22T17:55:18ZWhy Beethoven wasn’t the original punk rocker of classical music<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/422397/original/file-20210921-5916-1k6oq98.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=5%2C0%2C3988%2C2664&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Comparing Beethoven to punk rockers is based on the composer's attitude to tradition, but is it an accurate categorization?</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Last summer, the meme “<a href="https://theconversation.com/was-beethoven-black-a-twitter-meme-reveals-more-about-race-and-music-than-the-composers-origins-143440">Beethoven was Black</a>” was trending online, a trope that drew the iconic composer into <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/was-beethoven-black-and-why-might-be-wrong-question-ask-180975159/">a 21st century discussion about race and social justice</a>. But there is another curious classical music trope in circulation, one that is actually hard to avoid: Beethoven was a punk.</p>
<p>A cursory search for information about iconic composers like Beethoven, Mozart, Liszt or Stravinsky inevitably yields articles and blog posts proclaiming them the “original punk rockers,” linking them with the infamously brash modern pop music phenomenon associated with bands like the Ramones, the Sex Pistols and The Clash.</p>
<p>What is going on here? </p>
<h2>Punk characters</h2>
<p>Who are the supposed punks of the classical music world? It seems that, for many commentators, any composer who went against the grain in some way was a punk.</p>
<p>British radio station Classic FM, for example, <a href="https://www.classicfm.com/lifestyle/culture/punks-of-classical-music/">provides a short list of classical music punks</a> that begins, improbably, with the medieval nun Hildegard von Bingen. Her wide-ranging chant melodies and settings of risqué texts apparently make her an “anti-establishment figure.”</p>
<p>The list also includes Tchaikovsky, considered a punk by virtue of <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Pyotr-Ilyich-Tchaikovsky">the emotional effusiveness of his symphonic music</a>. Twentieth century French composer and conductor Pierre Boulez also makes an appearance because he who sought to <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/jan/06/pierre-boulez">craft the future of modern music from scratch by vehemently rejecting the past</a>.</p>
<p>In an article for <em>The Guardian</em>, scholar John Butt cites the Reformation, launched by the composer and schismatic monk Martin Luther in the 16th century, as classical music’s “<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2017/aug/18/the-reformation-classical-musics-punk-moment">punk rock moment</a>.” The rocker and poet Patti Smith asserted that Mozart was a punk rocker because his music exemplified the “<a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/patti-smith-peyote-dance-album-bruce-springsteen-bob-dylan-mozart-antoine-artaud-a8936716.html">pursuit of the new, of making space, of not being confined or defined</a>.” </p>
<p>In a similar vein, in his 1986 hit “Rock me Amadeus,” Austrian pop star Falco famously characterized Mozart as an 18th century rock star — “ein Punker,” loved by all the ladies for his hard-drinking, punk rock insouciance. </p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">In ‘Rock Me Amadeus,’ Austrian pop star Falco portrays Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart as a rebel.</span></figcaption>
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<p>The harshly dissonant music of early 20th century Viennese composer Arnold Schoenberg is “punk rock,” according to journalist Rebecca Mazzi, <a href="https://www.metrotimes.com/detroit/schoenbergs-controlled-chaos/Content?oid=2181661">by dint of its non-conformist rejection of musical traditions</a>.</p>
<h2>Beethoven the punk</h2>
<p>But Beethoven — once again, as a cultural icon who seems able to absorb meaning and interpretation from any and all directions — appears to be the exemplar of a proto-punk. A tongue-in-cheek <em>Entertainment Weekly</em> article <a href="https://ew.com/article/1995/01/27/sid-vicious-and-beethoven-long-lost-twins/">draws connections between Beethoven and the Sex Pistols’ bassist Sid Vicious</a>: both “trashed hotel rooms” and composed “anti-monarchy songs.” </p>
<p>Music critic Colin Fleming’s characterizes Beethoven’s eighth symphony as “punk-rock” thanks to <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2014/02/beethovens-punk-rock-8th-symphony/284033/">its quick tempos, boisterously loud passages and overall “pugnacious and punchy” character</a>. The BBC claims that the annual Proms concert is perhaps one of “<a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/bitesize/articles/zbgy6v4">the oldest punk rock concerts on the planet</a>,” featuring music by Beethoven that 19th-century audiences and musicians often found “challenging.”</p>
<p>Even the scholarly world can’t resist the lure of this trope, it seems: a German press release for musicologist William Kinderman’s very recent book about the political nature of Beethoven’s music describes the composer as a “<a href="https://www.styriabooks.at/download/private/press/import/9783222150524_PT_Kinderman_Beethoven.pdf">Rebell und Punk</a>.”</p>
<p><a href="https://pitchfork.com/features/from-our-partners/9943-rip-it-to-shreds-a-history-of-punk-and-style/">Punk began in the mid-‘70s in the United States</a>, moving to the United Kingdom only to fizzle out by the end of the decade. This notion that Beethoven, along with other big names in the classical music canon, was a punk invites some deconstructing. A key issue is the notion that punk — a very short-lived musical movement (and arguably, a form of lucrative and cleverly stage-managed outrage) — somehow exemplified the “pursuit of the new,” as Patti Smith claims.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/422482/original/file-20210921-19-1txb7ad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Patti Smith performing behind a microphone with long grey hair" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/422482/original/file-20210921-19-1txb7ad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/422482/original/file-20210921-19-1txb7ad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/422482/original/file-20210921-19-1txb7ad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/422482/original/file-20210921-19-1txb7ad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/422482/original/file-20210921-19-1txb7ad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/422482/original/file-20210921-19-1txb7ad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/422482/original/file-20210921-19-1txb7ad.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Singer-songwriter Patti Smith, shown here performing in the Netherlands in 2018, called Mozart a ‘punk rocker.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Punk traditions</h2>
<p>Punk rock is, if anything, decidedly regressive. It challenges the ear via its raucousness and its provocative and often obscene lyrics, not through audacious musical innovations. It is sped-up rock ’n’ roll, nothing more. Punk relies on traditional instrumentation — guitar, drums, bass — and traditional rock chord structures.</p>
<p>It rejected the excesses of other '70s-era musical genres — especially progressive rock and disco — by becoming more stripped down, but also more rootsy: punk is, in essence, a rock revival movement rather than an anarchic reimagining or refashioning of music. </p>
<p>The ethnomusicologist Evan Rapport has argued that punk’s true roots actually reside in the blues, and makes the provocative claim that the <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/S0261143013000524">tendency to link punk to the European avant garde constitutes a whitewashing of history that seeks to obscure punk’s origins in Black music</a>, much like the discourse concerning Black composers in the 19th and 20th centuries. </p>
<p>The great classical composers, certainly from Mozart onwards, were admittedly idiosyncratic and individualistic, but whether they were radically anti-authoritarian punks is highly debatable. They may have composed music that sometimes vexed their contemporaries, but they also wrote for the box office, courted patrons, sought popularity and were not artistic anarchists: rather, most understood themselves — even the most irascible, like the arch-modernist Schoenberg — to be part of a larger, continuous cultural tradition.</p>
<h2>Stravinsky, the original punk rocker?</h2>
<p>Notwithstanding the lack of any true affinity between classical music and punk, Beethoven-as-punk-rocker seems to be part of an effort to assert the ongoing relevance and sexiness of classical music, even as performing organizations and venues struggle to stay afloat, and audiences continue to decline. It is the case, alas, that most of us no longer have the right ears and brains for this music, which requires focused attention, musical memory, familiarity with a vast lexicon of expressive gestures and an understanding of how large-scale musical structures are built.</p>
<p>Drawing connections between snarling, three-minute punk songs and Beethoven’s Eighth Symphony in the hopes of simulating interest in the classics and getting bums into seats in concert halls ultimately doesn’t help listeners plumb the depths and navigate the richness and complexities of a half hour-long orchestral work.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/422480/original/file-20210921-25-1m2yk94.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="a black and white photograph of dancers" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/422480/original/file-20210921-25-1m2yk94.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/422480/original/file-20210921-25-1m2yk94.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/422480/original/file-20210921-25-1m2yk94.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/422480/original/file-20210921-25-1m2yk94.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/422480/original/file-20210921-25-1m2yk94.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=473&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/422480/original/file-20210921-25-1m2yk94.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=473&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/422480/original/file-20210921-25-1m2yk94.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=473&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">A posed group of dancers in the original production of Igor Stravinsky’s ballet <em>Le sacre du printemps</em>, showing historical Russian folkloric costumes and backdrop by Nicholas Roerich. The first performance sparked a riot in Paris in 1913.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(The Sketch Magazine)</span></span>
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<p>If we must draw some connecting lines between punk and classical music, I suppose we could look to Igor Stravinsky. The Paris premiere of his 1913 ballet <em>Le sacre du printemps</em> is reputed to have <a href="https://www.metrotimes.com/detroit/schoenbergs-controlled-chaos/Content?oid=2181661">sparked a riot</a>, and is lauded as a turning point in the development of musical modernism. </p>
<p>This performance, <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/manchester/content/articles/2006/05/11/110506_sex_pistols_gig_feature.shtml">like the legendary first gig by the Sex Pistols in 1976</a>, has since become shrouded in myth: in each case, many more people claim to have been in attendance than actually were. Perhaps the “classical music is punk” trope should begin and end there.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/165862/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alexander Carpenter does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>In popular media, Beethoven is imagined as a punk rocker. But what do these claims reflect about our relationship to classical music?Alexander Carpenter, Professor, Department of Fine Arts, University of AlbertaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1667582021-09-02T04:15:39Z2021-09-02T04:15:39Z‘A singular vision’: new film tells the touching story of musician and Triffids founder David McComb<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/419009/original/file-20210902-16-4abwhj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=85%2C154%2C11219%2C7153&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The Triffids photographed in 1987.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Andrew Catlin</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Love in Bright Landscapes: The story of David McComb of The Triffids, directed by Jonathan Alley</em></p>
<p>David McComb’s lyrics embed narratives of love and loss within the vastness of the Western Australian landscape. “The sky was big and empty, my chest filled to explode, I yelled my insides out at the sun, at the wide-open road.” </p>
<p>It’s a song “full of air,” explains Paul Kelly. The lyrics of McComb, who founded legendary band The Triffids with his friend Alsy MacDonald and brother Robert in 1978, evoke a palpable sense of place. The group attracted enthusiastic audiences at festivals, garnering critical acclaim as part of the Australian indie band invasion of Britain in the early 1980s. </p>
<p>“You don’t just hear these songs,” says Kelly in Jonathan Alley’s extraordinary documentary Love in Bright Landscapes? “You see them, feel and smell them.” </p>
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<p>By the late 1980s, The Triffids were filling stadia all over Europe, performing songs such as Wide Open Road, Save What You Can and Bury Me Deep in Your Love. However, this didn’t guarantee commercial success. In 1989, they disbanded, leaving a legacy of tender, lyrical songs and memorable performances. </p>
<p>The band’s successes and frustrations, McComb’s ascendancy as songwriter and performer, his physical decline, and his early death in 1999, aged 36, are beautifully told in this film.</p>
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<p>Alley has structured his documentary like one of McComb’s songs. The unfurling narrative is driven by an urgent sense of purpose and inspired by McComb’s “magpie aesthetic,” where everything makes a connection.</p>
<p>From his early life (described by those who loved and worked with him), an image emerges of a sensitive boy from a privileged background with high achieving parents. His mother Athel confesses he was “… different from the others; his life was singular”. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/419006/original/file-20210902-25-1u3n66s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/419006/original/file-20210902-25-1u3n66s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/419006/original/file-20210902-25-1u3n66s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419006/original/file-20210902-25-1u3n66s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419006/original/file-20210902-25-1u3n66s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419006/original/file-20210902-25-1u3n66s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=595&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419006/original/file-20210902-25-1u3n66s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=595&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419006/original/file-20210902-25-1u3n66s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=595&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Young David with rabbits.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Label distribution</span></span>
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<p>David met his best mate MacDonald in the 1970s, when he was at Christ Church Grammar School and Alsey was a student at Hollywood High School. Coincidentally, I was Senior Art Master at Christ Church at the time. Art was a means of escape, a way to make sense and break free. The inquiring, intelligent McComb brothers (David had three siblings) trooped through my classes. As McComb said in 1998, the stricter the school, “the better rock and roll music it can produce”. </p>
<p>As punk spread from London to Seattle and Claremont, David and drummer MacDonald formed a band called Dalsy, making their own albums on cassette. Dalsy morphed into The Triffids in 1978, drawing on the DIY energy that seems to coalesce around the western edge of continents.</p>
<p>In the documentary <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0695629/">Hype</a>, for instance, which chronicles the rise of the grunge scene in Seattle, the lack of mainstream infrastructure is described as liberating, making it possible for young musicians to imagine recording their own music, writing their own magazines, and distributing their work. In Perth, like Seattle, doing it yourself was the only way to get something happening. </p>
<h2>A creative cauldron</h2>
<p>As a result, these young musicians and entrepreneurs were free to break new ground and stir it up. “David was the original Punk, not Johnny Lydon,” says Alley, “… everything was up for grabs, he made no distinction between high and low culture”. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-punks-legacy-40-years-on-60633">Friday essay: punk's legacy, 40 years on</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>From the creative cauldron of Perth in the 70s emerged Hoodoo Gurus frontman Dave Faulkner, and bands like <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Manikins">the Manikins</a>, Kim Salmon and the Surrealists and The Triffids.</p>
<p>Despite McComb’s conviction that “nothing happens here, nothing gets done, but you get to like it,” The Triffids did make great music and performed some terrific gigs before leaving, first for Sydney, then London.</p>
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<p>There they found the success that had eluded them. In 1984, they recorded a session with John Peel on BBC radio. By 1985 they were on the cover of New Musical Express. They were on the cusp of global success, playing major festivals and signed by Island records.</p>
<p>Through Alley’s scrapbook of home videos, photographs, and interviews, we hear how it all slowly unravelled. It’s a sad story of a driven musician whose creativity was the bulwark keeping his demons at bay. Fuelled by a regime of drugs, he <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/earshot/beautiful-waste3a-the-poetry-of-david-mccomb-and-the-triffids/6274488">died of a heart attack </a>on February 2 1999. The conflict that informed his best work was internal. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/419007/original/file-20210902-27-zrifq1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/419007/original/file-20210902-27-zrifq1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/419007/original/file-20210902-27-zrifq1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419007/original/file-20210902-27-zrifq1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419007/original/file-20210902-27-zrifq1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419007/original/file-20210902-27-zrifq1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419007/original/file-20210902-27-zrifq1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419007/original/file-20210902-27-zrifq1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">David McComb and vocalist Will Akers photographed in 1998.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Denise Nestor</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>“I woke to discover an inferior replica of myself,” wrote McComb in a diary note; “avoid madness” in another. This inner tension with his dark side was a catalyst for his songs but as Alley explains “… for David, his best self was his creative self.” </p>
<p>McComb joined the galaxy of rock and roll stars whose short lives continue to inspire generations. Still, albums like <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Born_Sandy_Devotional">Born Sandy Devotional</a> and songs like Wide Open Road remain potent markers in our cultural life.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/419011/original/file-20210902-27-6dnggs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/419011/original/file-20210902-27-6dnggs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/419011/original/file-20210902-27-6dnggs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419011/original/file-20210902-27-6dnggs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419011/original/file-20210902-27-6dnggs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=750&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419011/original/file-20210902-27-6dnggs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=943&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419011/original/file-20210902-27-6dnggs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=943&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/419011/original/file-20210902-27-6dnggs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=943&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Laure Prouvost, Lick in The Past, 2016, installation view at the Perth Institute of.
Contemporary Arts.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Bo Wong</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>For curator Annika Kristensen, McComb’s album title Love in Bright Landscapes — borrowed from the Spanish poet Rafael Alberti but made his own — is a lens through which to explore the social, political and cultural landscapes of Perth and Los Angeles. </p>
<p>Coincidentally on show currently at Perth Institute of Contemporary Art, the 14 artists from both cities she has selected locate stories of love, hope, desperation, and despair under the vast canopy of a shared open sky.</p>
<p>McComb, whose love stories inflected with pain, humour, and wistful longing bleed into imagery of expansive WA landscapes, would have been delighted.</p>
<p><em><a href="https://www.loveinbrightlandscapes.com/">Love in Bright Landscapes</a> will premiere at Luna Leederville in Perth on September 9.</em></p>
<p><em>Love in Bright Landscapes, curated by Annika Kristensen, <a href="https://pica.org.au/show/love-in-bright-landscapes/">is at Perth Institute of Contemporary Art,</a> until October 10</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/166758/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ted Snell does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Perth band The Triffids were indie pioneers, and their charismatic vocalist David McComb, who died at 36, wrote lyrics imbued with the Western Australian landscape. A new film charts his story.Ted Snell, Honorary Professor, Edith Cowan UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1213142019-08-05T20:05:40Z2019-08-05T20:05:40ZWill time tear us apart? Exploring the appeal of Joy Division 40 years on<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/286854/original/file-20190805-117910-1xnpgby.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Peter Hook at a recent Joy Division Orchestrated performance at London's Royal Albert Hall.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">VDImages & Yannis Hostelidis </span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In a previous century, I conducted doctoral fieldwork among the abandoned warehouses, smoky pubs and crumbling squats of the British <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Popular-Cultures-Politics-Pleasure-Culture/dp/0803977018">post-punk, independent rock scene</a>. How strange that I should become re-acquainted with that scene at the shimmering Sydney Opera House.</p>
<p>The occasion was <a href="https://musicfeeds.com.au/news/2019-peter-hook-interview/">Joy Division Orchestrated</a>, performed not long after the 40th anniversary of the band’s landmark debut album <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/joy-division-unknown-pleasures-40-anniversary-songs-ian-curtis-buzzcocks-peter-hook-a8957461.html">Unknown Pleasures</a>. Joy Division has been described as being “like the centre of a wheel” in continuing “<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2019/jun/18/the-eternal-influence-of-joy-division-moby-killers-jon-savage-zia-anger">to influence not just music, but graphic design, literature, film and more</a>” four decades after the band died, along with its lead singer, Ian Curtis.</p>
<p>Saturday night’s show was only a remnant of the original group from Salford in Greater Manchester, as founder member Peter Hook substituted his estranged ex-bandmates with guest singers and musicians, not least the <a href="https://www.metorchestra.com.au/">Metropolitan Orchestra</a>. Of necessity, the show was radically different from the grungy club experience of its origins. In the hands of orchestrator/conductor Tim Crooks and musical director David Potts, the music was less angular and industrial.</p>
<p>With flesh-and-blood, classically-trained musicians replacing synthesisers, the sound was lush and tonally rich. Guest singer Mica Miller provided a different gender dimension to the songs of an all-male group. She and Hook took Curtis’s vocal role alongside Bastien Marshal, who sounds and looks like him.</p>
<p>Joy Division classics abounded, like the brooding Atmosphere and the disconcerting She’s Lost Control. Inevitably there was <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ntozxoKmmZM">Love Will Tear Us Apart</a> which, a decade after its release, came first in the inaugural Triple J Hottest 100, and again the following year. Plus whimsical surprises, like the bizarre, Malcolm McLaren-inspired <a href="https://www.radioclash.com/archives/2014/01/23/love-will-keep-us-together-tear-us-apart/">mashup</a> of that song and Captain and Tennille’s Love Will Keep Us Together.</p>
<p>But the music alone, despite its unquestionable and enhanced majesty, cannot entirely explain the enduring appeal of a band that existed for barely two years before Curtis took his own life.</p>
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<p>Joy Division’s flame has been partially kept alive by its successor, New Order, formed in 1980 by the surviving members of the band: Hook, Bernard Sumner and Stephen Morris. New Order broke up a couple of times but is still going, though now without Hook. He and the band have had <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2017/sep/20/peter-hook-settlement-new-order-royalties">a long running legal dispute</a> that was reportedly settled in 2017. </p>
<p>New Order’s innovative mix of electropop and dance music has been much more commercially successful than its parent band, which produced only <a href="https://www.discogs.com/artist/3898-Joy-Division">two albums of original music and a handful of EPs and singles</a>. But it could never compete with the power of Joy Division mythology.</p>
<p>In a familiar rock narrative of the beautiful corpse, the premature demise of Ian Curtis and Joy Division offered both pathos and mystery. Neither singer nor band could make embarrassing mistakes or reach some notional use-by date, touring the nostalgia circuit like the Sex Pistols, who inspired them to form in the first place.</p>
<p>Images of Joy Division, usually black-and-white, reveal four intense young men in the kind of authentic, working-class environment immortalised by The Smiths a few years later outside the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/gallery/2012/mar/06/smiths-fans-salford-lads-club">Salford Lads Club</a>. That famous picture was dominated by Morrissey – who has lived long enough to <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2019/jul/08/billy-bragg-morrissey-rightwing-youtube-video-stormzy-brandon-flowers">besmirch his own reputation</a> – just as the glowering Ian Curtis compulsively draws the eye in Joy Division’s <a href="http://www.joydivisionofficial.com/photo">still photographs</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1EdUjlawLJM">videos</a>.</p>
<p>When Curtis died, I recall a distraught letter to the New Musical Express, the most influential rock newspaper of the time, claiming that “he died for us”.</p>
<p>Even without such Christ-like imaginings of their late singer, Joy Division’s songs – by turns doomy and angry, edgy and reflective – still resonate in these paranoid times.</p>
<p>Produced under Thatcherism and Reaganism, amid the Cold War, deepening social inequality and the rise of the surveillance state, songs like Disorder, Dead Souls, Atrocity Exhibition, and Isolation exude disquiet and alienation. They could have been written today.</p>
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<p>But at a deeper level the aura that formed around the band, and especially its tortured vocalist, evocatively expresses rock’s romantic mythology of <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=simon+frith+sociology+of+rock&rlz=1C1GCEU_enAU821AU821&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjKuZXwuOPjAhUVQH0KHZAqBj4Q_AUIEigC&biw=1920&bih=947#imgrc=X51ajL0WbRPUFM:">dissident youth</a>. It registers in Anton Corbijn’s film about the band, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0421082/">Control</a>, and in the representation of Manchester’s Hacienda scene in which Joy Division is featured, in the film <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0274309/">24 Hour Party People</a>.</p>
<p>Myth-laden yearnings aside, Joy Division’s slim back catalogue still repays repeated listening. Songs like <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMAB3r6EjcM">Decades</a>, from the epic album <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2011/aug/18/joy-division-closer">Closer</a>, will resonate with inquisitive listeners yet to be born. </p>
<p>In the end, time and earthly foibles caught up with Joy Division. Punk was supposed to rewrite the rules of the decadent music business, and post-punk to take it beyond the frenetic world of <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2942568-one-chord-wonders">One Chord Wonders</a> into something more existentially enduring.</p>
<p>The known-unknown pleasures of Joy Division Orchestrated are reminders of why the music of this short-lived band remains potent even if the human relationships that made it possible have been torn apart. Again.</p>
<p><em>Peter Hook presents Joy Division Orchestrated can be seen in <a href="https://www.tegdainty.com/tour/peter-hook-presents-joy-division-orchestrated/">Perth on August 9 and Melbourne August 11</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/121314/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>David Rowe does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The music alone, despite its unquestionable majesty, cannot entirely explain the enduring appeal of a band that existed for barely two years before its lead singer took his own life.David Rowe, Emeritus Professor of Cultural Research, Institute for Culture and Society, Western Sydney UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1108302019-02-20T15:13:58Z2019-02-20T15:13:58ZDonald Trump: less a politician than an iconoclast, a 21st-century punk<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/257982/original/file-20190208-174880-1h16dof.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/washington-dc-april-27-2018-us-1082158661?src=oTOHC8Cm5V7yXsNlQ0QIow-1-0">Shuttrstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The appeal of Donald Trump mystifies many people. How can this monstrous egotist, this apparent man-baby, be <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-trumps-win-means-for-the-rest-of-the-world-68249">president of the United States</a>, they wonder. But perhaps people are looking in the wrong places for answers and explanations. </p>
<p>They compare him to other politicians, and find that he is so different to his White House predecessors that such comparisons make no sense. But what if we were to think of Trump not as a politician, but as a kind of artist, unconsciously channelling a long legacy of radical provocation? </p>
<p>In this way, perhaps, he becomes more comprehensible. After all, Trump’s whole modus operandi is based on shock and confrontation.</p>
<p>Such an approach to life can be traced back to many historical figures, like the <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Marquis-de-Sade">Marquis de Sade</a> or, in the 19th century, the painter <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/James-McNeill-Whistler">James McNeill Whistler</a>. Whistler’s painting, Nocturne in Black and Gold: The Falling Rocket, incensed the critic John Ruskin who believed it was slapdash and meaningless. He accused the artist of “impudence” and “flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face”.</p>
<p>Whistler <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-britain/exhibition/turner-whistler-monet/turner-whistler-monet-who-what-when/turner-1">sued Ruskin for libel</a>, leading to one of the most notorious court cases of the time. The jury decided in Whistler’s favour, but awarded him a farthing in damages, which bankrupted him. </p>
<p>This wasn’t just about personal reputation, it was a battle for the soul of art, with Ruskin defending its traditional social responsibilities and value, and Whistler believing in “<a href="https://www.bl.uk/romantics-and-victorians/articles/aestheticism-and-decadence">art for art’s sake</a>” – a belief shared by Whistler’s friend Oscar Wilde. </p>
<h2>Art for art’s sake</h2>
<p>The nihilistic violence of art without social responsibility found its strongest expression in the French writer <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=nLQRXzQ4NgoC&pg=PA154&lpg=PA154&dq=The+simplest+Surrealist+act+consists+of+dashing+down+the+street,+pistol+in+hand,+and+firing+blindly,+as+fast+as+you+can+pull+the+trigger,+into+the+crowd&source=bl&ots=FVZKAjJgik&sig=ACfU3U2k6lSR_coRIrZgRrd1lcdurRpbPQ&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjh9cjzl7vgAhULUxUIHbwBBpgQ6AEwCnoECAIQAQ#v=onepage&q=The%20simplest%20Surrealist%20act%20consists%20of%20dashing%20down%20the%20street%2C%20pistol%20in%20hand%2C%20and%20firing%20blindly%2C%20as%20fast%20as%20you%20can%20pull%20the%20trigger%2C%20into%20the%20crowd&f=false">Andre Breton’s proclamation</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>The simplest Surrealist act consists of dashing down the street, pistol in hand, and firing blindly, as fast as you can pull the trigger, into the crowd.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The German critic <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Walter-Benjamin">Walter Benjamin</a> believed that art for art’s sake led to the idea of war as a kind of pure, aesthetic experience, as proclaimed and celebrated by Fascism. Writing in the mid-1930s, he was aghast at what he described as the “aestheticisation of politics”, most explicitly manifested in the spectacular displays of power in Nazi Germany.</p>
<p>The appalling tragedy of Nazi spectacle repeats itself as farce in the 1970s, with the emergence of rock music as pure spectacle, devoid of all 1960s idealism – particularly in the glam rock of Alice Cooper and David Bowie.</p>
<p>Bowie went on to make the connection between rock as spectacle and fascism explicit. As far back as 1969, he had <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=vk-I_ZM_PfwC&pg=PA36&lpg=PA36&dq=david+bowie+and+enoch+powell+and+crying+out+for+a+leader&source=bl&ots=nRt49aKzDZ&sig=ACfU3U0tmMlShPh0-Nus0hqUZjVwXDR1rQ&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiT4InkmLvgAhVZVBUIHbXHAwgQ6AEwB3oECAcQAQ#v=onepage&q=david%20bowie%20and%20enoch%20powell%20and%20crying%20out%20for%20a%20leader&f=false">proclaimed in an interview</a> that Britain was “crying out for a leader” and named Enoch Powell as a potential candidate. In later interviews, he compared (his alter ego) Ziggy Stardust to Hitler. Then, in 1976, in Rolling Stone magazine, <a href="https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/david-bowie-7-wild-quotes-from-the-station-to-station-era-231332/">he proclaimed</a>: “I could have been Hitler in England… I think I might have been a bloody good Hitler. I’d be an excellent dictator.”</p>
<p>It was in the same year that he returned to England on the Orient Express, arriving at Victoria Station to be met by an open-top Mercedes, a favoured form of transport for the Nazis. This was the notorious occasion when he <a href="https://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/culturepicturegalleries/12092387/David-Bowie-1947-2016-life-and-career-in-pictures.html?frame=2445716">may or may not</a> have made a Nazi salute to the crowd, a time he later <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=nSuGDwAAQBAJ&pg=PT115&lpg=PT115&dq=At+the+time+I+was+interested+in+ideas+of+the+mythological+Arthurian+Britain+.+.+.+it+was+more+the+mythology+than+the+actualisation,+or+the+formation+of+such+a+horrendous+thing+as+the+new+Nazi+Party.+Now+I+look+back+and+I+think+%27how+incredibly+irresponsible.+But+I+was+in+no+state+to+be+responsible.+I+was+the+least+responsible+person+I+can+imagine+at+the+time.&source=bl&ots=Eduz8PDmc2&sig=ACfU3U3PUBPLpnY-PCT58i4mFmoTWbPYcg&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjmyurxy8rgAhVuUxUIHQtmAQYQ6AEwA3oECAMQAQ#v=onepage&q&f=false">looked back on with regret</a>.</p>
<p>Perhaps the strangest thing about reading these proclamations by Bowie is how reminiscent they are of Trump. In a sense, Trump is the heir of Bowie, in a journey from Whistler’s 19th century aestheticism to the sometimes <a href="https://www.tate.org.uk/art/art-terms/f/futurism">right wing nihilism</a> of the early 20th century, and onto the current occupant of the White House. </p>
<p>Trump (born June 1947) and Bowie (born January 1947) were of the same generation. They even both hung out at nightclub <a href="https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/studio-54-10-wild-stories-from-clubs-debauched-heyday-198626/">Studio 54</a> in New York in the 1970s and 80s, though I do not know if they were ever there at the same time. Whatever the truth of Bowie’s politics, or Trump’s for that matter, both understood something profound about our contemporary culture – that image is everything. </p>
<p>The rock band Alice Cooper also understood this and their 1972 single Elected explicitly relates to politics. Watching the video in 2019 is an eerie experience, given the degree to which it seems to predict the emergence of politics as showbiz, and the rise of Trump.</p>
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<p>But perhaps Trump is less like Bowie or Cooper, and more like one of Bowie’s most notorious fans – Sid Vicious, the ultimate punk, and inheritor of the mantle of avant-garde nihilism and violence. </p>
<p>The alt-right provocateur Milo Yiannopoulos often invoked punk rock in talking about his shock strategies. “Being a Donald Trump supporter is the new punk,” he <a href="https://www.breitbart.com/social-justice/2016/09/22/milo-louisiana-state-being-a-trump-supporter-is-the-new-punk/">once proclaimed</a>, adding: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>It’s the new cool thing to do. What do you do if you wanna piss off your teachers, piss off your parents, piss off your friends, be ejected from polite society, and in all other ways be thought of as an untouchable miscreant? Vote for Donald Trump.</p>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Charlie Gere has received funding from the Arts and Humanities Research Board (now Council)</span></em></p>The US president as avant-garde provocateur.Charlie Gere, Professor of Media Theory and History, Lancaster UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1081142018-12-03T15:59:55Z2018-12-03T15:59:55ZWhy UNESCO was right to add reggae to its cultural heritage list<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/248478/original/file-20181203-194932-sk71m9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Paul Weinberg</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>When UNESCO announced that “the reggae music of Jamaica” had been <a href="https://ich.unesco.org/en/RL/reggae-music-of-jamaica-01398">added to its list</a> of cultural products considered worthy of recognition, it was a reflection on the fact that reggae, which grew from its roots in the backstreets and dance halls of Jamaica, is more than just popular music, but an important social and political phenomenon.</p>
<p>Jamaica’s application to the committee mentioned a number of artists from <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/move-over-bob-marley-peter-tosh-is-finally-getting-the-recognition-he-deserves-8914028.html">Bob Marley and Peter Tosh</a> to <a href="https://rootfire.net/chronixx/">Chronixx and the Zinc Fence Band</a>. Some observers may be wondering whether such musicians are a good enough reason to include reggae on this prestigious list. What those readers don’t fully understand is that reggae is far more significant than its musicians. Not only is social commentary “an integral part of the music”, the application argued, but reggae has also made a significant “contribution to international discourse concerning issues of injustice, resistance, love, and humanity”. </p>
<p>Reggae has “provided a voice for maligned groups, the unemployed and at risk groups and provided a vehicle for social commentary and expression where no other outlet existed or was afforded”. It has also “provided a means of praising and communicating with God”. Not only are these big claims, but they are all true.</p>
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<h2>Deep roots</h2>
<p>Culturally, politically, religiously and musically, reggae has done much heavy lifting. Born in the back streets of Kingston in the 1950s, it is proudly Jamaican. Raised in difficult circumstances, it has matured into a friendly and generous music that travels well and warmly embraces the other cultures and music it meets. Hybridisation is part of reggae’s genetic makeup. Its DNA can be traced back to West Africa and out into the world of popular music. It came into being through mento (a form of Jamaican folk music), ska and rock steady, absorbing influences from the Caribbean (especially calypso), rhythm and blues, rock, and jazz.</p>
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<p>However, not only has reggae embraced other musical styles and ideas, but in so doing, it has influenced them and given birth to new sub-genres. Particularly significant in this respect has been the innovative recording techniques developed by Jamaican producers such as <a href="https://www.factmag.com/2015/05/19/king-tubby-beginners-guide-dub-reggae/">King Tubby</a>, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/lee-scratch-perry">Lee “Scratch” Perry</a>, and <a href="https://www.trojanrecords.com/artist/bunny-lee/">Bunny Lee</a>. What became known as “<a href="https://www.factmag.com/2014/04/16/dubbing-is-a-must-a-beginners-guide-to-jamaicas-most-influential-genre/">dub reggae</a>” has inspired generations of artists and producers around the world and is still an important influence in popular music.</p>
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<h2>Politics of resistance</h2>
<p>As well as its musical contribution, reggae hasn’t forgotten its roots. Not only does it comment on current political events and social problems, but it also provides a multi-layered introduction to the history, religion and culture of what music historian Paul Gilroy called “<a href="https://sites.duke.edu/blackatlantic/sample-page/exploring-the-black-atlantic-through-sound/">the Black Atlantic</a>”. While some reggae cannot, of course, be considered religious or political – “<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2011/sep/22/lovers-rock-story-reggae">lovers rock</a>” for example, focuses on romantic relationships – much of it is.</p>
<p>A key moment in Jamaican political history (as well as the story of reggae) happened on April 22 1978 at the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2011/jun/16/bob-marley-peace-concert">One Love Concert</a> hosted by Bob Marley at The National Stadium in Kingston. Marley famously called bitter political rivals Michael Manley and Edward Seaga to the stage and persuaded them to join hands. Few other people could have done this. Although the concert did not bring an end to the turmoil in Jamaica, it did showcase the significance of reggae as a political and cultural force.</p>
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<h2>Rastafari</h2>
<p>It is of particular significance that reggae is inextricably related to the religion of Rastafari, which emerged as a direct response to oppression within Jamaican colonial society. Often articulating the ideas of Jamaican political activist <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/historic_figures/garvey_marcus.shtml">Marcus Garvey</a>, who is understood by Rastafarians to be a prophet, Rasta musicians such as Marley and Burning Spear developed roots reggae as a vehicle for their religio-political messages. </p>
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<p>Even if some musicians are not committed Rastafarians, they typically identify with the movement’s ideas and culture. In particular, many wear dreadlocks, consider smoking “the herb” (cannabis) to be a sacrament, and reference the religio-political dualism of <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/religion/religions/rastafari/">Zion and Babylon</a> (the social systems of the righteous and the unrighteous). There is a hope often articulated within reggae of a better world following Armageddon and the fall of Babylon. “Babylon your throne gone down”, declared Marley in his 1973 song, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBBTitBMEMA">Rasta Man Chant</a>. These biblical ideas are also creatively applied to a range of political issues, from local injustices to climate change and the nuclear arms race.</p>
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<p>Sometimes reggae itself is understood to be a form of direct action, in that musicians are understood to “chant down Babylon”. As Ziggy Marley put it:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Babylon [is] a devil system … who cause so much problems on the face of the Earth … And by ‘chanting down’ I mean by putting positive messages out there. That is the way we’ll fight a negative with a positive.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Examples of this include Yabby You’s Chant Down Babylon Kingdom and of course, Marley’s own Chant Down Babylon. This type of thinking is rooted in Jamaican history. Following violent confrontations with the police during the 1940s and 1950s, Rasta elders – particularly <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/news/2006/mar/23/guardianobituaries.religion">Mortimer Planno</a> – appealed to Jamaican academics to study Rastafari in order to increase popular understanding and tolerance. And in 1960, three scholars (M.G. Smith, Roy Augier and Rex Nettleford) published their <a href="https://openlibrary.org/books/OL13865081M/Report_on_the_Rastafari_movement_in_Kingston_Jamaica">Report on the Rastafarian Movement in Kingston, Jamaica</a>. </p>
<p>For Rastas, the destruction of Babylon came to be interpreted less in terms of a violent overthrow of oppressive social structures and more in terms of a conversion to new ways of thinking, central to which was the strategic primacy assumed by the arts. Reggae emerged as part of this process. From the outset, therefore, it was understood by many to be far more than simply “pop music”. It was “rebel music”, a powerful political tool for the peaceful resistance of oppression.</p>
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<h2>Reggae international</h2>
<p>The potency of reggae as an educational and inspirational force became conspicuous shortly after its arrival in Britain. In 1976 it was central to the founding of the <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/rock-against-racism-remembering-that-gig-that-started-it-all-815054.html">Rock Against Racism campaign</a> and by the late 1970s, reggae, dub, ska, and the terminology of Rastafari were informing punk culture as part of an emerging “dread culture of resistance”. </p>
<p>For example, in 1979, the same year that witnessed the Southall race riots, during which a teacher, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/uk/2010/apr/27/blair-peach-killed-police-met-report">Blair Peach</a>, was killed, the British punk band <a href="https://www.forcedexposure.com/Artists/RUTS.DC.html">The Ruts</a> released their dub reggae influenced single Jah War, on which they sang, “the air was thick with the smell of oppression”. </p>
<p>The Ruts subsequently achieved chart success with Babylon’s Burning. While some may have been bemused by the reference, for their fans – for whom <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2007/jul/20/urban.popandrock">punk and reggae</a> were first cousins at the very least – the message was obvious: Babylon was the principally white political establishment, which oppressed ethnic minorities and the unemployed poor of the inner cities, and which would eventually be dismantled. </p>
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<p>At the same time, Jamaicans who had moved to Britain in their childhood, such as <a href="http://www.lintonkwesijohnson.com/linton-kwesi-johnson/">Linton Kwesi Johnson</a>, used a creative blend of poetry and reggae to comment on the injustices they faced: “Inglan is a bitch, dere’s no escapin it.” One of Johnson’s poems commented specifically on the murder of Peach, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHrlmwudYuA">Reggae Fi Peach</a>. Since then, reggae music has continued to “speak truth to power” – from <a href="https://www.caribbeannationalweekly.com/entertainment/queen-ifrica-releases-powerful-song-hitting-back-domestic-violence/">challenging domestic abuse</a> to protesting against <a href="https://jamaicans.com/reggae-songs-nelson-mandela/">apartheid in South Africa</a>. </p>
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<p>For these political, religious and cultural reasons – as much as for the music itself – UNESCO was right to finally give reggae the recognition it deserves.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/108114/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Christopher Partridge does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>More than just a musical accolade, UNESCO has recognised the social and political importance of Jamaican music.Christopher Partridge, Professor of Religious Studies, Lancaster UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1055282018-10-25T14:06:47Z2018-10-25T14:06:47ZSkibidi stare: Primal Scream’s Bobby Gillespie has sent cosy political club a strong, silent message<p>Making an appearance on a politics programme such as The BBC’s This Week presents something of an opportunity for a rock star such as Primal Scream’s Bobby Gillespie. There is the chance to burnish radical credentials. And there is scope for promoting new work. But, of course, there is always the risk of being asked to do something stupid.</p>
<p>Fortunately for Gillespie, he had a keen sense of his own red lines when asked to join presenter Andrew Neil, Michael Portillo and Caroline Flint in the Skibidi challenge – something that rock bible <a href="https://www.nme.com/blogs/nme-blogs/bobby-gillespie-this-week-dance-glorious-2391594">the NME calls</a> “a particularly irritating dance phenomenon that is infecting the internet like a bad case of the <a href="https://www.medicinenet.com/image-collection/the_clap_gonorrhea_picture/picture.htm">clap</a>”.</p>
<p>The look on Gillespie’s face was stony; devastating. As Neil grooved, Portillo twisted and Flint turned, the cult figure just stared straight ahead. Fans – and those who just don’t like the way politics is routinely trivialised on television – are calling it the “TV moment of the year”.</p>
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<p>Just because he has an album to promote, Gillespie’s deadpan expression clearly said, doesn’t mean he has to play nicely and ditch the outlaw status so vital to his character – and Primal Scream’s celebrated sound.</p>
<h2>Underground movement</h2>
<p>Gillespie founded Primal Scream in the mid 1980s while simultaneously playing drums with <a href="http://thejesusandmarychain.uk.com/">The Jesus and Mary Chain</a>. The group initially styled themselves on 1960s guitar pop groups with tracks such as Velocity Girl and All Fall Down, their first single.</p>
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<p>Initially, the movement that Primal Scream emerged from, which centred around <a href="http://www.creation-records.com/">Creation Records</a> – a label set up by <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/friday_review/story/0,3605,381193,00.html">punk impresario Alan McGee</a> – seemed to be itself retrogressive: influences included 1970s blues and rock, Velvet Underground-style art rock with a whiff of self-indulgent psychedelia.</p>
<p>At the same time, the Creation roster – including Primal Scream – dived headlong into the sex and drugs antics and rock star clichés of the past. Even the artwork for Primal Scream’s latest CD, The Memphis Recordings, is another nod to rock’s glorious golden age – replicating the packaging for magnetic quarter-inch tape, which was used back in the day for studio recording.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/242271/original/file-20181025-71020-19jt00c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/242271/original/file-20181025-71020-19jt00c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/242271/original/file-20181025-71020-19jt00c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/242271/original/file-20181025-71020-19jt00c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/242271/original/file-20181025-71020-19jt00c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/242271/original/file-20181025-71020-19jt00c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/242271/original/file-20181025-71020-19jt00c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<p>This was the period where independent record labels flourished and music was released seemingly free from the constraints of corporate control. Creation’s cultural and musical predecessor from Glasgow, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/jun/06/simply-thrilled-preposterous-story-postcard-records-simon-goddard-review">Postcard Records</a> – the brainchild of the even more eccentric Alan Horne – also took the Velvet Underground as its blueprint. But it synthesised this with, in the case of <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2016/jul/20/orange-juice-and-edwyn-collins-10-of-the-best">Orange Juice</a>, a camp sense of fun, or with <a href="https://www.ltmrecordings.com//index.php?target=/josef_k.html">Josef K</a>, a European art-house chic. It was a case of learning from the past to create a new present.</p>
<h2>Politics with added funk</h2>
<p>Primal Scream alone, for all their recycling of classic 1960s and 1970s rock on songs such as Movin’ On Up and Jailbird, realised that the message was as important as the medium. Gillespie’s background in Scottish socialist politics (his father was a <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2015/may/05/bob-gillespie-labour-primal-scream-bobbie-scottish-politics">left-wing trade unionist</a>) came to bear on his statements where he used pop media <a href="https://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/entertainment/celebrity/bobby-gillespie-making-screamadelica-was-our-way-1071037">to rail against</a> government crack-downs on unlicensed raves in a “basement club beneath a kebab shop on Edgeware Road for 20 people who’d been up dancing for three nights” as he once put it. </p>
<p>He also made it clear what he thought of the conservatism of young people and the Thatcher government’s individualist social and economic policies (a theme he took up again with Andrew Neil on This Week, much to the presenter’s obvious discomfort).</p>
<p>Musically, Primal Scream’s reuse of the sorts of styles the Rolling Stones had colonised on their seminal Exile on Main Street LP – where The Stones augmented rhythm and blues with country, soul and gospel elements – married to dance and rave culture elements to create something completely new and fresh. The dub symphony of Higher Than the Sun and the epic Come Together sounded both contemporary and timeless. Their <a href="https://www.nme.com/blogs/nme-blogs/screamadelica-i-was-at-the-centre-of-the-cyclone-779212">hiring of dance music producer Andrew Weatherall</a> to remix their third album, Screamadelica, in 1991 could have been a gimmick – yet this particular synthesis of the old and the new was a triumph. </p>
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</figure>
<p>Screamadelica was funky and celebratory, a successful fusion of the grooviest elements of popular music. Primal Scream became one of the few groups at that time to take part in what journalist Dorian Lynskey in his book <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2011/mar/20/33-revolutions-minute-protest-songs">33 Revolutions Per Minute</a> calls more “challenging dialogues with history” contrasting with other dance enthusiasts committed only to the present or some “mythical past”.</p>
<p>It was Gillespie’s respect for history and sense of social justice, despite his evident wealth, that guided his stance on the This Week show – a stance that shattered several myths. </p>
<p>By challenging Neil’s neoliberal rhetoric head-on, Gillespie refused to bolster the cosy narrative of the programme, itself reflective of the decline of contemporary mass media. Then, by refusing to take part in the embarrassing impromptu dance as the credits rolled, he reminded us that music is also a protest movement, capable at its best of expressing the fears, anger and injustices of people everywhere. </p>
<p>Afterwards, Gillespie’s Instagram account took up the fight. He criticised Neil, and said the “sickening” display was indicative of how the media “enables” the political class in Britain.</p>
<p>But that look had already done all the talking required. It lasted just a moment, yet Gillespie’s scornful face as he watched, incredulous at the behaviour of the other guests – the political class. A real rock rebel gave a us memorable TV moment and, in the words of the title track of Primal Scream’s fourth studio album, said to a new generation: Give Out But Don’t Give Up.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="InstagramEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.instagram.com/p/BpH7PG0HoSq/?taken-by=primalscreamofficial","accessToken":"127105130696839|b4b75090c9688d81dfd245afe6052f20"}"></div></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/105528/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Mark Goodall does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The Scottish rocker showed he has clearly lost none of the fire in his belly.Mark Goodall, Senior Lecturer Film and Media, University of BradfordLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/931362018-03-23T11:04:08Z2018-03-23T11:04:08ZPunks are not dead in Indonesia, they’ve turned to Islam<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/209879/original/file-20180312-30994-1hfulrl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Punk Muslim members from Surabaya and Jakarta gather together for their event 'Ngobrol Bareng Punk Muslim' in Jakarta on January 15 2017.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Hikmawan Saefullah</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The punk movement is notable for its anti-establishment stance and distinct music and fashion style. Starting in the 1970s in the UK and US, the subculture became global and took different forms in each local setting. </p>
<p>In Indonesia, punk bands started to emerge in the 1990s. They were central in nurturing leftist activism during the years leading up to the fall of Soeharto.</p>
<p>But, interestingly, in the years following the fall of the New Order regime, some of these “bad boys” have transformed into a group of pious people. They’ve built a new generation of punk subculture they call Islamic punk.</p>
<h2>Early years of punk in Indonesia</h2>
<p>Between 1996 and 2001, the underground music scenes in Java, Sumatera and Bali became an important centre for radical left activism. </p>
<p>Local punks adopted leftist ideologies, such as socialism and anarchism, to challenge the authoritarian New Order regime. The ideology soon became dominant in the local music scene with the emergence of punk collectives with leftist views, such as the <a href="https://search.informit.com.au/documentSummary;dn=966938817220535;res=IELAPA">Anti-Fascist Front</a> in Bandung, West Java, and the Anti-Oppression Front in Surabaya, East Java.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/211559/original/file-20180322-54866-txgxfo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/211559/original/file-20180322-54866-txgxfo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/211559/original/file-20180322-54866-txgxfo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/211559/original/file-20180322-54866-txgxfo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/211559/original/file-20180322-54866-txgxfo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=562&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/211559/original/file-20180322-54866-txgxfo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=562&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/211559/original/file-20180322-54866-txgxfo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=562&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bandung’s punks, members of the Anti-Fascist Front (FAF), take part in a demonstration in 1998.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Hanna</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Sharing a vision to replace the authoritarian system with a democratic system, the local punk groups worked together with a prominent left-wing student organisation, the People’s Democratic Party (PRD).</p>
<p>Despite their relatively small numbers, these groups strongly influenced the development of activism within the underground music scene. </p>
<h2>The rise of pious punks</h2>
<p>The face of punk in Indonesia today has changed dramatically from the late 1990s. </p>
<p>Islamic punks started to emerge after the fall of Soeharto’s dictatorship in the 1998. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/211560/original/file-20180322-54869-4vm5tq.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/211560/original/file-20180322-54869-4vm5tq.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=868&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/211560/original/file-20180322-54869-4vm5tq.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=868&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/211560/original/file-20180322-54869-4vm5tq.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=868&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/211560/original/file-20180322-54869-4vm5tq.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1090&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/211560/original/file-20180322-54869-4vm5tq.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1090&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/211560/original/file-20180322-54869-4vm5tq.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1090&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">An illustration of Asep, a member of Punk Muslim, on the cover of an Islamic magazine, Sabili, June 12 2008.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Majalah Islam Sabili</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><a href="http://punkmuslim.org/">Punk Muslim</a> represents the new face of the punk movement in Indonesia. Street punks Budi Khaironi, Bowo and humanitarian activist Ahmad Zaki formed the band in 2007. Punk Muslim works to empower street kids in the slum areas of Jakarta by providing religious education and social protection, and making them participate in social activism.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/209874/original/file-20180312-30975-12y9pa7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/209874/original/file-20180312-30975-12y9pa7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=851&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/209874/original/file-20180312-30975-12y9pa7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=851&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/209874/original/file-20180312-30975-12y9pa7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=851&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/209874/original/file-20180312-30975-12y9pa7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1069&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/209874/original/file-20180312-30975-12y9pa7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1069&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/209874/original/file-20180312-30975-12y9pa7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1069&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A member of Punk Muslim flies his collective’s flag at the 212 Reunion Rally in Jakarta on December 2 2017.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ian Wilson</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>They also fight against punks’ negative stereotypes through religious activities to help their members reintegrate into mainstream society. </p>
<p>“Because of their tattoos, many of them have issues in applying for a job and being accepted by the society,” said Zaki.</p>
<p>The fans of Punk Muslim have expanded to Surabaya, Bandung, and Bogor, Depok, and Bekasi in West Java. Apart from playing music, they also try to balance <a href="http://www.bbc.com/indonesia/majalah-39587052">their routines</a> by reading the Qur’an, attending sermons and proselytising on the streets. </p>
<p>Besides Punk Muslim, other punk groups include <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheFourtysAccident/">The Fourty’s Accident</a> (Surabaya), <a href="https://www.reverbnation.com/ketapeljihadband">Ketapel Jihad</a> (Depok), <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AntiMammon/">Anti-Mammon</a> (Bogor) and <a href="http://showbiz.liputan6.com/read/2919277/melody-maker-band-rock-bersaudara-yang-solid-selama-13-tahun">Melody Maker</a> (Jakarta). Other Jakarta-based bands include <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xCbhLOu_cRE">Tengkorak</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vV7j4psYiA">Kodusa</a> and <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ioiCr40fW0k">Purgatory</a>, which are linked to an underground music group that adopts Islam as its ideological basis, <a href="https://www.jpnn.com/news/berjihad-lewat-musik-underground-ubah-salam-metal-jadi-satu-jari-tauhid">One Finger Movement</a> or <em>Komunitas Salam Satu Jari</em>.</p>
<h2>Not only about conservatism</h2>
<p>Dutch anthropologist Martin van Bruinessen refers to the increasing religiosity among punks in Indonesia as a <a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/book/23185">“conservative turn”</a>. </p>
<p>My research supports Bruinessen’s view. However, in my article, <a href="http://www.ingentaconnect.com/contentone/intellect/punk/2017/00000006/00000002/art00005">Nevermind the Jahiliyyah, here’s the Hijrahs: punk and the religious turn in the contemporary Indonesian underground scene</a>, published in Punk & Post-Punk, I also suggest that the emergence of Islamic punks is not simply due to religious radicalisation. </p>
<p>Indonesia’s turn to Islamic conservatism - marked by the 2005 <a href="https://theconversation.com/indonesian-secularists-and-atheists-live-under-the-shadow-of-stigma-82697"><em>fatwa</em> or edict</a> issued by the Indonesian Ulema Council (MUI) against secularism, liberalism and pluralism - did contribute to the Islamic punk emergence. From my research, many Indonesian punks took refuge in Islam following the <em>fatwa</em>. </p>
<p>But the perception that the emergence of the Islamic punks is only due to growing “Islamic radicalisation” among Indonesian youths is rather weak. </p>
<p>Rather, the emergence of Islamic punks in Indonesia’s post-authoritarian era is the result of a combination of state repression, commercialism and increasing religious conservatism.</p>
<p>The government’s control before and after the reform era weakened leftist ideology in Indonesia. Arrests of leftist activists on sedition charges deterred leftist groups, including punks, from showing off their political leaning. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, commercialisation has transformed punk’s “Do It Yourself” (DIY) ethos into a profit-making tool, as noted by anthropologists like Brent Luvaas and <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/14442213.2011.636062">Sean Martin-Iverson</a>.</p>
<p>“All hardcore punk scenes seem to only have one mission: to entertain audiences and sell merchandise,” said Dani Tremor, the vocalist of Bandung-based punk band <a href="https://www.jakartabeat.net/resensi/konten/milisi-kecoa-isotonik-di-tengah-dahaga-punk?lang=id">Milisi Kecoa</a>.</p>
<p>Thus, with threats from the state and the market, the punk movement in Indonesia lost its leftist ideological foundation. This gave rise to a new kind of punk, one that’s driven more by conservative Islamic teachings.</p>
<h2>Different level of conservatism</h2>
<p>Like other Islamist movements, the Islamic punk collectives have different positions on various topics, including democracy. </p>
<p>Punk Muslim, for instance, considers the democratic system as <em>haram</em> (forbidden in Islamic law), even though this does not apply in case of an emergency. “If we don’t vote for the Muslim leaders, then the winners will be non-Muslims,” said Aik of Punk Muslim.</p>
<p>Jakarta-based Islamic trash metal band <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ozkW-D3T18k">GUNxROSE</a>, which is associated with Muslim hardline group Hizbut Tahrir Indonesia, completely refuses to participate in the democratic system on the grounds that democracy is contradictory to Islam.</p>
<p>The Islamic punk movement in Indonesia is more conservative than their counterparts in different part of the world. Members of Punk Muslim and One Finger Movement are generally hostile to liberal interpretations of Islam. </p>
<p>They despise leftist thoughts and LGBT communities, and adopt a sectarian position towards Shia and Ahmadiyyah. They also consider the liberal approach to Islam of the American Muslim punk scene <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgFXDItywMQ">Taqwacore</a> as “un-Islamic”.</p>
<p>The pendulum of the punk scene in Indonesia has moved from left to predominantly right. This transformation shows the organic nature of Indonesia’s punk movement, which is easily affected by the social, political and economic changes in the post-New Order era.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/93136/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Hikmawan Saefullah is a lecturer at the Department of International Relations, FISIP, Universitas Padjadjaran.</span></em></p>The emergence of the Islamic movement in the Indonesian underground music scene has drawn a lot of people’s attention. What factors are driving the underground youths, especially punks, to religion?Hikmawan Saefullah, PhD Candidate in Politics, Murdoch UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/890402018-01-09T18:32:47Z2018-01-09T18:32:47ZThe Clash’s 1981 punk rock take on the cycle of consumption and work<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/199929/original/file-20171219-4951-cjmg91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The Joe Strummer mural on East 7th Street and Avenue A in the East Village, New York.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jack Szwergold/flickr</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The 1981 punk-rock song “The Magnificent Seven” isn’t about Yul Brynner and the 1960 all-star <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0054047/">Western</a> of the same name, but something even more mundane and also more threatening: the endless cycle of work, consumption and work.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/GcHL8efKKPE?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The Clash’s song, ‘The Magnificent Seven’.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>On the cover of “The Magnificent Seven” (the record) is a clock showing seven. The song’s title is about time, that unpaid labour time of getting up and getting to work day after day.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Ring, ring, it’s 7:00am move yourself to go again.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Everyone has to reconstitute themselves everyday for work.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/199740/original/file-20171218-27591-17bqaru.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/199740/original/file-20171218-27591-17bqaru.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=592&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/199740/original/file-20171218-27591-17bqaru.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=592&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/199740/original/file-20171218-27591-17bqaru.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=592&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/199740/original/file-20171218-27591-17bqaru.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=744&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/199740/original/file-20171218-27591-17bqaru.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=744&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/199740/original/file-20171218-27591-17bqaru.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=744&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The cover of the single, ‘The Magnificent Seven’.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.theclash.com/gb/music/singles/the-magnificent-seven">theclash.com</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>“What have we got?” asks <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/2600955.stm">Joe Strummer</a>, the songwriter and lead vocalist of the British punk rock band, <a href="http://www.theclash.com/">The Clash</a>, founded in 1976.</p>
<p>Not much, he answers.</p>
<p>Bombarded by ads, we work hard to buy more stuff. And the fetishism of commodities holds us in check:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Gimme Honda, gimme Sony</p>
<p>So cheap and real phoney</p>
<p>Hong Kong dollar, Indian cents</p>
<p>English pounds and Eskimo pence.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The song is a brilliant reflection on <a href="https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/labour_time">labour time</a> and the endless reproduction of ourselves as a commodity, labour power. In other words, we have no alternative but to exchange our time for money, which is why the time away from work is a moment of liberation,</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Wave bub-bub-bub-bye to the boss. It’s our profit, it’s his loss.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“But anyway the lunch bells ring,” Strummer laments, and we’re back to work and the seemingly endless cycle where “clocks go slow … minutes drag and the hours jerk.”</p>
<p>All this activity and hard work get us nowhere. Everyday we are back to square one, which brings us back to “ring ring 7 am”:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>You’re frettin’, you’re sweatin’</p>
<p>But did you notice, you ain’t gettin’</p>
<p>You’re frettin’, you’re sweatin’</p>
<p>But did you notice, not gettin’ anywhere.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>And so, “cold water in the face brings you back to this awful place”. </p>
<p>What is this awful place? It is not the awful place of work but the reality of the alarming ring. Put the kettle on, turn on the radio and throw cold water on the face.</p>
<h2>British working class</h2>
<p>It feels like a song about the British working class of the late 1970s. Cold water because there is no hot water. The awful place, Britain 1980, the first year Prime Minister <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/politics/datablog/2013/apr/08/britain-changed-margaret-thatcher-charts">Margaret Thatcher</a>’s <a href="http://www.triple-c.at/index.php/tripleC/article/view/750/795">neoliberal</a> totalitarian attack on working people.</p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/199925/original/file-20171219-4965-kfx6qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/199925/original/file-20171219-4965-kfx6qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/199925/original/file-20171219-4965-kfx6qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/199925/original/file-20171219-4965-kfx6qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=486&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/199925/original/file-20171219-4965-kfx6qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=611&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/199925/original/file-20171219-4965-kfx6qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=611&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/199925/original/file-20171219-4965-kfx6qc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=611&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The cover of The Clash’s album ‘Sandanista!’.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Charles Leonard</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Rising unemployment especially among the youth, police harassment and the smell of fascism. These were the days of UB40s (aka the Unemployment Benefit Form 40), signing on at the dole office, and “career opportunities… that never knock” as children <a href="http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=6900">sang</a> on The Clash triple album, <a href="https://www.austinchronicle.com/music/2000-05-19/the-magnificent-seven/">“Sandinista!”</a> (1980). It took its <a href="http://www.theclash.com/gb/music/albums/sandinista">name</a> from Nicaragua’s left-wing rebel force, the Sandanistas.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3B6saoj_31k?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">‘Career Opportunities’ by The Clash.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But it was also the days of resistance, of a campaign like <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2008/apr/20/popandrock.race">Rock against Racism</a> and urban revolt against police repression, racism, “sus” laws and mass arrests against black youth. The <a href="http://www.bristolpost.co.uk/news/bristol-news/st-pauls-riots-37-years-17634">uprising</a> in Bristol’s St Paul in April 1980 pre-figured the <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/4854556.stm">urban revolts in Brixton</a> and later across the country in 1981. Imperial Britain on its deathbed. For some there seemed a connection to the struggle in the North of Ireland. The <a href="http://www.anphoblacht.com/contents/23237">hunger strike</a> by Irish guerrillas in the H-Blocks in Belfast started on March 1, 1981. </p>
<h2>New York adventure</h2>
<p>“The Magnificent Seven” was another slice of daily life, a class struggle song framed by the sound of funk and the emergent hip-hop in the New York, which Strummer later <a href="https://monthlyreview.org/2003/06/01/let-fury-have-the-hour-the-passionate-politics-of-joe-strummer">said</a> “changed everything for us”.</p>
<p>According to the author <a href="https://www.thenation.com/authors/antonino-dambrosio/">Antonino D'Ambrosio</a>, the Clash recorded The Magnificent Seven “as a tribute to the path-breaking <a href="http://www.oldschoolhiphop.com/artists/emcees/sugarhillgang.htm">Sugar Hill Gang</a>”. By the late 1970s, the Bronx, a burned out eye-sore to the city’s fathers, had become the centre of this music. As soon as The Clash got off the plane at JFK in 1979 they were immersed in the sounds of the street carried by boom-boxes (which The Clash guitarist Mick Jones took to carrying around) and incorporated these sounds into the mix that became the album, “Sandinista!”. </p>
<p>Strummer <a href="https://mylifethediscography.wordpress.com/2013/01/17/1980-the-clash-sandinista/">wrote the words</a> to “The Magnificent Seven” on the spot while listening to a Norman Joseph Watt-Roy bass riff. Englishman Watt-Roy of Ian Dury and the Blockheads was among the group of musicians working in the New York studio on “Sandinista!”.</p>
<p>“The Magnificent Seven” was thus also part of The Clash’s New York adventure. Written in 1980, it was, <a href="http://www.theclash.com/gb/music/singles/the-magnificent-seven">according to The Clash website</a>, one of the first,</p>
<blockquote>
<p>rap records made by a British band and one of the earliest rap records full stop.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>It was included on “Sandinista!” and released as a single in 1981. While the song’s hip-hop credentials are often remembered, the lyrics are equally important.</p>
<p>The hybrid character of the song is seen in references such as “cheeseboiger” while the last line brings it back to British tabloids. Finishing the mix in England, Strummer added “Vacuum cleaner sucks up Budgie”, a <em>News of the World</em> <a href="http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=30831">headline</a> at the time, while Marx and Engels show up at the 7/11, a staple American 24-hour convenience store.</p>
<p>Marx who has to borrow money from <a href="https://www.marxists.org/archive/lenin/works/1895/misc/engels-bio.htm">Engels</a> turns on the rhyme of “Marx’s sense” with the need for “British pence”. The song concludes with name-checking historical figures, <a href="http://www.philosophybasics.com/philosophers_socrates.html">Socrates</a>, <a href="http://www.sahistory.org.za/people/mohandas-karamchand-gandhi">Mahatma Gandhi</a>, <a href="https://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates/1964/king-bio.html">Martin Luther King</a> and <a href="http://www.history.com/topics/us-presidents/richard-m-nixon">Richard Nixon</a>, as it wonders:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Who’s more famous to the billion millions… Plato the Greek or Rin Tin Tin?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Released on April 10, 1981, the day the Brixton revolt began and a day after hunger striker Bobby Sands was elected to the British parliament, “The Magnificent Seven” climbed to No 34 in the UK charts. It became one of the band’s “best-known and most important singles”, notes D'Ambrosio. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sjzKWnGd7ME?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The instrumental version of ‘The Magnificent Seven’ - ‘The Magnificent Dance’.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In the US, the B-side instrumental version was very popular. Strummer <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Clash/dp/1459688791">remembers</a>, you couldn’t go anywhere in New York in the summer of 1981 without hearing it as it was “played to death” on New York’s major black radio station, <a href="http://www.wbls.com/">WBLS</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>And that was us, weirdo white guys.</p>
</blockquote>
<p><em>Protest music has made a serious comeback over the past five years. This article is the third in a series featuring Songs of Protest from across the world, genres and generations.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/89040/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Nigel Gibson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>“The Magnificent Seven” was a slice of daily life, a class struggle song framed by the sound of funk and the emergent hip-hop in New York.Nigel Gibson, Associate Professor of Interdisciplinary Studies, Emerson CollegeLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/887332017-12-11T15:15:08Z2017-12-11T15:15:08Z‘Ghost Town’: a haunting 1981 protest song that still makes sense today<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/198036/original/file-20171206-31555-wk7xa.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The cover of "Ghost town".</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pop Sike</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>England, 1981. In some rural South West discos menace was in the air; no night complete without a fight, <a href="http://mashable.com/2016/03/29/british-skinheads/#lq96___3LgqA">Skinheads</a> attacking whoever riled them, flick knives at the ready. Tracks by <a href="https://www.allmusic.com/artist/madness-mn0000195874">Madness</a>, <a href="https://www.allmusic.com/artist/the-english-beat-mn0000197921">The Beat</a> and <a href="https://www.allmusic.com/artist/the-selecter-mn0000504276">The Selecter</a> were the soundtrack to these nights. These bands played <a href="http://jamaicansmusic.com/learn/origins/ska">ska music</a>, a popular Jamaican genre from which reggae evolved.</p>
<p>But when <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-13780074">“Ghost Town”</a> by <a href="http://www.thespecials.com/">The Specials</a> came on, everyone stopped. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RZ2oXzrnti4?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">“Ghost Town” by The Specials.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Formed in 1977 and arguably the most influential band of the UK’s <a href="https://rateyourmusic.com/genre/2+Tone/">2 Tone Ska</a> scene, “Ghost Town”, a skewed ska oddity, was written by Jerry Dammers, The Specials’ keyboardist and released in June 1981. It was their last song before splitting up and reforming as The Special AKA and stayed at the top of the UK charts for three weeks.</p>
<h2>Odd, eerie song</h2>
<p>It’s an odd, eerie song, nodding to pop convention and sitting wilfully outside of it. It’s included, in passing, in Dorian Lynskey’s beautifully written book on protest songs, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2011/mar/20/33-revolutions-minute-protest-songs">“33 Revolutions Per Minute”</a>, but unlike the band’s “Free Nelson Mandela” does not merit its own chapter.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/AgcTvoWjZJU?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">“Free Nelson Mandela” by The Special AKA.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Perhaps because “Ghost Town” cannot be “placed”. It’s not explicitly against any one event. It does not exhort its listeners into any one particular political view. It is not part of any one social movement for change. It is, rather, a stealth protest song. </p>
<p>Starting with a Hammond organ’s six ascending notes before a mournful flute solo, it paints a bleak aural and lyrical landscape. Written in E♭, more attuned to “mood music”, with nods to cinematic soundtracks and music hall tradition, it reflects and engenders anxiety. </p>
<p>The whispered chorus of “This Town/ is coming like a Ghost town” is then heard, followed by front man Terry Hall’s deadpan vocals lamenting how “all the clubs have been closed down” because there is “too much fighting on the dance floor”.</p>
<p>One of the clubs referred to in the song was <a href="http://www.coventrytelegraph.net/lifestyle/nostalgia/gallery/locarno-ballroom-10657835">The Locarno</a> in Coventry, the Midlands UK city where the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/2009/mar/30/2tone-label-specials-madness">2 Tone record label</a> started in the late 1970s. </p>
<p>2 Tone had emerged stylistically from the <a href="https://therake.com/stories/style/street-smarts-mods-rudeboys-teddy-boys-punks/">Mod and Punk subcultures</a> and its musical roots and the people in it, audiences and bands, were both black and white. Ska and the related Jamaican <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00ym9n4">Rocksteady</a> were its musical foundations, sharpened further by punk attitude and anger. It was this anger that Dammers articulated in “Ghost Town”, galvanised both what he had seen on tour around the UK in 1981 and what was happening in the band, which was riven by internal tensions. </p>
<p>England was hit by recession and away from rural Skinhead nights, <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-16313781">riots</a> were breaking out across its urban areas. Deprived, forgotten, run down and angry, these were places where young people, black and white, erupted. In these neglected parts of London, Birmingham, Leeds and Liverpool the young, the unemployed, and the disaffected fought pitch battles with the police. </p>
<p>“Ghost Town” was the mournful sound of these riots, a poetic protest. It articulates anger at a state structure, an economic system and an entrenched animosity towards the young, black, white and poor. It asks,</p>
<blockquote>
<p>why must the youth fight against themselves. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>In his book Lynskey argues that “like all great records about social collapse, it seems to both fear and relish calamity” and its ambiguity allows it to soundtrack more than the riots about which it was written. It is an angry elegy for lost opportunity, lost youth, an acid flavoured lament for what was and what could be. </p>
<p>The streets that The Specials conjure up in “Ghost Town” are inhabited by ghosts; dancing is a memory, silence reigns. The sounds of life, community, creativity are no longer, “bands don’t play no more”. In the song’s short bridge section in the bright key of G♭ major, Hall asks us to,</p>
<blockquote>
<p>remember the good old days/before the ghost town/ when we danced and sang/ and the music played ina de boom town". </p>
</blockquote>
<p>And as Charles Dickens wrote in his <a href="http://example.com/">“A Christmas Carol”</a>, ghosts are spectres not only of the past, but of the present and future too, traces of what was, is and might have been. “Ghost Town” is the haunting track of thousands of lost futures. And in 2011, when England <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-14436499">erupted</a> again and the cities burnt, “Ghost Town” was <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2011/aug/09/specials-ghost-town">remembered and replayed</a>.</p>
<h2>Strange music video</h2>
<p>Its audio-visual manifestation was also strange. The music video was directed by <a href="http://daily.redbullmusicacademy.com/2015/03/barney-bubbles-feature">Barney Bubbles</a> and filmed in the East End of London, Blackwell Tunnel and a before-hours City of London. Opening with upshots of brutalist grey tower blocks to the sound of those Hammond organ chords and flute, it seems as though there is no one in town but The Specials, who are all crowded into a 1962 Vauxhall Cresta, careering through the empty streets and lip syncing. </p>
<p>This in itself constitutes “eerie” if we use cultural critic Mark Fisher’s work, <a href="https://repeaterbooks.com/product/the-weird-and-the-eerie/">“The Weird And The Eerie”</a>, to understand it. He <a href="http://thequietus.com/articles/21524-mark-fisher-weird-eerie-kubrick-tarkovsky-nolan-review">wrote</a> how,</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The sensation of the eerie occurs either when there is something present where there should be nothing, or there is nothing present when there should be something.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Here, in a major capital city, where the streets should be teeming, there is no-one but The Specials, a group of young black and white men, from a depressed and demoralised Midlands town. They are in charge. </p>
<p>As if to further underline this, the camera was placed on the car bonnet so we see The Specials as if they are crashing into us. And when they all sing “yah, ya ya, ya, yaah, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya…”, they seem like an insane Greek chorus, before Lynval Golding, the band’s rhythm guitarist and vocalist, murmurs the last line “the people getting angry”. The song fades out in dub reggae tradition, inconclusive, echoing. </p>
<h2>Not a dance track</h2>
<p>So what did those fight-ready Skinheads do in those small town discos when “Ghost Town” came on? Not <a href="https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Moonstomp">moonstomping</a>, not smooching. This was not a dance track. It wasn’t the “romantic” one the DJ played at the end of the night. </p>
<p>When “Ghost Town” played, the Skinheads sang along with Terry Hall, smiled manically and screeched. They joined into to the “ghastly chorus” and became, for a few minutes, part of that army of spectres. Because protest sometimes has no words. </p>
<p>It’s just a cry out against injustice, against closed off opportunities by those who have pulled the ladder up and robbed the young, the poor, the white and black of their songs and their dancing, their futures. Drive round an empty city at dawn. Look at the empty flats. </p>
<p>See the streets before the bankers get there and after the cleaning ladies have gone. And put young, poor, disadvantaged people in that car. See how “Ghost Town” makes sense. Now.</p>
<p><em>Protest music has made a serious comeback over the past five years. This article is the first in a series featuring Songs of Protest from across the world, genres and generations.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/88733/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Abigail Gardner does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>A 1981 odd and eerie protest song, ‘Ghost Town’, still resonates today. It remains a cry out against injustice, against closed off opportunities by those who have pulled the ladder up.Abigail Gardner, Reader in Music and Media, University of GloucestershireLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/855442017-10-12T14:58:54Z2017-10-12T14:58:54ZGrime is the new punk – here’s why<p>If you’re British and don’t know much about grime, you’re in the minority. The influence of the music genre has ballooned in the UK in the last year, and it’s on track to become as disruptive and powerful as punk. </p>
<p>In the last year, album sales of grime music have grown significantly faster than the total UK music market (<a href="http://bit.ly/grimereport">93% vs 6%</a>) and the number of grime events on sale through Ticketmaster and Ticketweb has quadrupled since 2010. Our <a href="http://bit.ly/grimereport">new study</a> into the public reception of grime music found that 73% of Brits are aware of grime, with 40% having listened to it at some point.</p>
<p>In line with this trend, between this award season and the last, the genre has attracted more red carpet appearances, awards and accolades than any other. We’ve also witnessed the usual grime attire of baseball caps and designer tracksuits become more interchangeable with dinner jackets and bow ties. And why not, if you can have your brand enhanced by Emporio Armani (in the case of <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DizzeeRascal/photos/pb.23440376442.-2207520000.1506175770./10155154222911443/?type=3&theater">Dizzee Rascal</a>), or feature on the front cover of GQ magazine (as did <a href="https://gq-images.condecdn.net/image/9Bj4VwqnVEn/crop/405">Stormzy</a>).</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/189972/original/file-20171012-31395-by9u1z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/189972/original/file-20171012-31395-by9u1z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/189972/original/file-20171012-31395-by9u1z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=292&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/189972/original/file-20171012-31395-by9u1z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=292&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/189972/original/file-20171012-31395-by9u1z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=292&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/189972/original/file-20171012-31395-by9u1z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=367&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/189972/original/file-20171012-31395-by9u1z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=367&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/189972/original/file-20171012-31395-by9u1z.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=367&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Social media report and average listener.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Mykaell Riley</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>For the first time, our research corroborates these claims. We surveyed 2,000 grime fans and 58% of these said they voted for Labour during the 2017 election, with one-in-four (24%) saying that the #Grime4Corbyn campaign influenced their vote. It’s clear that #Grime4Corbyn gave a voice to the younger generation and influenced the way they voted. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"856094352912916480"}"></div></p>
<p>Those more familiar with the genre will know that this success is hard-won and reflects the efforts of an underground, predominantly black British music community, that has pioneered this scene since the early 2000s and beyond. Back then, in the bedrooms of East London council estates, the next generation of young producers and MCs were creating a brutal, edgy, uncompromising music. It was the sound of social deprivation emerging from the shadows of reurbanisation and gentrification.</p>
<p>Leap forward to the present and the genre once dubbed the sound of London’s social underclass has blossomed. With its successes in both the singles and album charts, its arrival on the festival circuit and its growing international following, grime continues to defy industry assessments of its potential. </p>
<p>This is why it still could provoke the most disruptive cultural transformation of the British music industry since punk. With the leading names now regulars on the festival circuit and capable of packing London’s Wembley or the O2, grime has verified its credentials. Grime still has some distance to travel with regards to its international profile but within the UK, it has already secured recognition from the music industry as the most successful black British music genre – and not unlike punk, transformed perceptions and approaches to popular music.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/189973/original/file-20171012-31418-19il6yc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/189973/original/file-20171012-31418-19il6yc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=499&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/189973/original/file-20171012-31418-19il6yc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=499&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/189973/original/file-20171012-31418-19il6yc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=499&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/189973/original/file-20171012-31418-19il6yc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=627&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/189973/original/file-20171012-31418-19il6yc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=627&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/189973/original/file-20171012-31418-19il6yc.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=627&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Favourite artists.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Mykaell Riley</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Live shows have also transformed ideas about grime’s audience, often seen jostling and bumping into each other in response to the performance. At early gigs, primarily attended by young black men in small venues, this activity would have been described as aggressive and potentially violent. But today, at larger venues and festivals and with it’s change of audience it’s more likely to be described as “moshing”. </p>
<p>So the tide, it seems, has turned. Or has it? Grime is still struggling to transform negative perceptions within the London Metropolitan Police force, who use the controversial <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/form-696-police-uk-music-venues-grime-music-discrimination-comment-a7670436.html">Form 696</a>. This is a risk assessment form that is applied solely to events that “predominantly feature DJs or MCs performing to a recorded backing track” – and is therefore seen by many as discriminatory. It has been used by the police to shut down a number of grime events on the grounds of “public safety”, negatively impacting on the income streams of performers and promoters alike.</p>
<p>Nonetheless, in 2017, grime demonstrates the promise of a complex and diverse music industry. It also shows that a journey fuelled by enterprise, entrepreneurialism and creativity has the potential to overcome such lingering negative perceptions to achieve even greater things.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/85544/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The research behind this article was conducted in collaboration with Ticketmaster.</span></em></p>Grime could provoke the most disruptive cultural transformation of the British music industry in decades.Mykaell Riley, Principal Investigator, Black Music Research Unit, University of WestminsterLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/802752017-07-19T20:00:53Z2017-07-19T20:00:53ZExplainer: ‘solarpunk’, or how to be an optimistic radical<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/178929/original/file-20170719-13545-7rjaa1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Solarpunk imagines a sustainable future, and what it might be like to live in it.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Image from www.shutterstock.com</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Punks (of the 70s and 80s kind) were not known for their optimism. Quite the opposite in fact. Raging against the establishment in various ways, there was “no future” because, according to the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=02D2T3wGCYg">Sex Pistols</a>, punks are “the poison / In your human machine / We’re the future / Your future”. To be punk, was, by definition, to resist the future.</p>
<p>In contrast, the most basic definition of solarpunk — offered by musician and photographer <a href="https://thejaymo.tumblr.com/">Jay Springett</a> — is that it is a movement in speculative fiction, art, fashion and activism</p>
<blockquote>
<p>that seeks to answer and embody the question ‘<a href="https://medium.com/solarpunks/solarpunk-a-reference-guide-8bcf18871965">what does a sustainable civilization look like, and how can we get there</a>?’ </p>
</blockquote>
<p>At first pass, then, Solarpunk seems to turn the central tenet of punk on its head. Its business is imagining the future. Moreover, perform an online “image search” for the term “solarpunk” and you will find colourful, leafy metropolises, flowing neo-peasant fashions and, perhaps, a small child standing next to a solar panel in front of a yurt. </p>
<p>How, then, are the bright futures imagined by solarpunks, worthy of the “punk” suffix?</p>
<p>Solarpunk’s optimism towards the future is the first concept that needs complicating here. Along with the original punks, there is a wide body of scholarship that critiques positive thinking. Feminists like <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u5um8QWWRvo">Barbara Ehrenreich</a> and <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?id=uOAPdbhSpksC&printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&q&f=false">Sara Ahmed</a>, for instance, trace links between the capitalist establishment and happiness. They suggest that future-centred optimism serves the very system raged against by most punks of old. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/u5um8QWWRvo?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">An animated version of Barbara Ehrenreich’s criticisms of positivity.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Although optimistic, Solarpunk’s future imaginings do not fit neatly with current political regimes or economic systems. Self-described “researcher-at-large” Adam Flynn argues that the movement begins with “<a href="http://hieroglyph.asu.edu/2014/09/solarpunk-notes-toward-a-manifesto/">infrastructure as a form of resistance</a>”. Solarpunks are in the business of dreaming a totally different system of energy delivery, essential services and transport. Quite different to behemoth of roads and coal-fired power plants we live amongst today.</p>
<p>In other words, Solarpunks resist the present by imagining a future that requires radical societal change. Radical, perhaps, but not radically impossible. Indeed, many of the technologies and practices that solarpunks draw into their imaginings already exist: solar and other renewable energy, urban agriculture, or organic architecture and design. Like sci-fi authors, solarpunks remix the present to produce an alternative future.</p>
<h2>Apocalypse or utopia?</h2>
<p>In a fictional sense, solarpunk sits across the table from “cli-fi”. In recent years, the term cli-fi has moved from a fringe concept to a marketable genre of fiction. Coined in the first instance by <a href="http://cli-fi.net/">Dan Bloom</a>, it has grown so big that scholarly researchers are able to produce <a href="http://www.upress.virginia.edu/title/4777">studies of the conventions</a>. <a href="https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/kim-stanley-robinson/new-york-2140/9780316262347/">New novels</a> and <a href="https://climateimagination.asu.edu/everything-change/">short story collections</a> are now published in this category each year. </p>
<p>Cli-fi, in both film and fiction, tends towards dystopia. For film, watch <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0319262/">The Day After Tomorrow</a>, in which New York is flooded and frozen in climate mayhem, and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1706620/">Snowpiercer</a>, where efforts to control climate change go dramatically awry. For text, look for Paolo Baciagalupi’s <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23209924-the-water-knife">The Water Knife</a>, in which drought has devastated the south western US. These are stories of failure, disaster, and social collapse. Crucially they represent the apocalypse as catalyzed in some way by climatic or environmental change: wave, snowstorm, drought. Cli-fi has really just replaced earlier anxieties (such as <a href="https://www.themonthly.com.au/issue/2007/june/1268876839/gideon-haigh/shute-messenger">nuclear war</a>) with new ones (such as <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qz8cjvKJLuw">out-of-control geoengineering</a>). </p>
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<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/nX5PwfEMBM0?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
</figure>
<p>In the Australian context, Briohny Doyle’s <a href="http://www.briohny-doyle.com/the-island-will-sink/">The Island Will Sink</a> and James Bradley’s <a href="https://penguin.com.au/books/clade-9781926428659">Clade</a> take up these themes. Here too, cli-fi can be seen in novels written before the concept existed, in what Ken Gelder calls “<a href="https://books.google.com.au/books/about/After_The_Celebration.html?id=465BCwvKbLgC&redir_esc=y">rural apocalypse fiction</a>” such as Carrie Tiffany’s explorations of failed semi-arid land farming in <a href="http://www.panmacmillan.com.au/9781742611495/">Everyman’s Rules for Scientific Living</a>.</p>
<p>I teach “cli-fi” in a literary studies course, including Doyle’s and Tiffany’s novels, and I invite students to critique the apocalyptic nature of the genre. Is it a problem that the future is only imagined as spectacular disaster or slow decline? </p>
<p>Solarpunks argue that the problem with imagining such a dark future (or no future, for that matter) is that, while failure may be cathartic it thwarts the possibility of thinking about alternatives.</p>
<p>As a genre of writing, solarpunk has its predecessors. <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/80689.The_Fifth_Sacred_Thing">The Fifth Sacred Thing (1994)</a> by Starhawk and Ernest Callenbach’s <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/4049576-ecotopia">Ecotopia: The Notebooks and Reports of William Weston (1975)</a> both imagine anti-capitalist, de-urbanised, garden-centric societies. Although Callenbach’s text is not a perfect utopia (<a href="http://www.bl.uk/learning/histcitizen/21cc/utopia/utopia.html">as if there is such a thing</a>), he is on record as stating the need for alternative future visions in a similar manner to solarpunks. In film, the work of Hayao Miyazaki provides a mainstream forerunner to the aesthetics and political challenges of the movement.</p>
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<figcaption><span class="caption">The trailer of Miyazaki’s <em>Princess Mononoke</em></span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Discovering the rainbow</h2>
<p>As a category of fiction, solarpunk remains a fringe dweller. Its few self-identifying authors describe their additions to the genre as a positive reaction to grim science fiction. Examples in this vein are <a href="https://microcosmpublishing.com/catalog/books/6675">Biketopia: Feminist Bicycle Science Fiction Stories in Extreme Futures</a> and <a href="https://sunvaultantho.wordpress.com/">Sunvault: Stories of Solarpunk and Ecospeculation</a>. Solarpunk fiction is either self-published or supported by small independent presses, with <a href="http://portlandbookreview.com/2017/06/biketopia/">mixed reviews</a>. </p>
<p>On Instagram #solarpunk yields under 1,000 uses. Nevertheless, the aesthetic sensibilities of the subculture are starting to emerge. A few fashion enthusiasts post selfies experimenting with flowing fabrics, cool coloured lipstick and body piercings. If steampunk is when “<a href="https://twitter.com/otfrom/status/406841030815010816">goths discover brown</a>”, solarpunk is when they discover the rainbow. </p>
<p>On Twitter, the hashtag is more common. It groups together self-published tales, fashion statements and even instances wherein the solarpunk project might be seen to break through into the present day, as in the case of <a href="https://twitter.com/SolarPunked/status/844431694031675392">electric buses</a>. It also seems that, like its predecessors steam and cyberpunk, solarpunks do dabble in <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/search/solarpunk%20cosplay">costumes</a> (cosplay).</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/176859/original/file-20170705-21500-1ddxh6j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/176859/original/file-20170705-21500-1ddxh6j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/176859/original/file-20170705-21500-1ddxh6j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/176859/original/file-20170705-21500-1ddxh6j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/176859/original/file-20170705-21500-1ddxh6j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/176859/original/file-20170705-21500-1ddxh6j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/176859/original/file-20170705-21500-1ddxh6j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/176859/original/file-20170705-21500-1ddxh6j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Sunvault: Stories of Solarpunk and Eco-Speculation is a collection of solarpunk short stories and art.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35235851-sunvault">Goodreads</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>It’s also political. <a href="https://medium.com/solarpunks/on-the-political-dimensions-of-solarpunk-c5a7b4bf8df4">Andrew Dana Hudson</a> says that the subculture “posits a world of solar-energy abundance and then argues that we will still have need of punks. No magical tech fixes for us. We’ll have to do it the hard way: with politics.” To be solarpunk, then, is to mount a resistance to the <em>mainstream</em> present by imagining an alternative future.</p>
<p>The question that remains for me in all this is what differentiates a solarpunk from an <a href="https://theecosexuals.ucsc.edu/ecosex/">ecosexual</a>, or an <a href="https://journals.equinoxpub.com/index.php/POM/article/view/2072">ecofeminist technopagan</a>, or an <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/327822750900209/?acontext=%7B%22ref%22%3A%223%22%2C%22ref_newsfeed_story_type%22%3A%22regular%22%2C%22action_history%22%3A%22null%22%7D">eco-afrofuturist</a> or even a <a href="https://medium.com/solarpunks/002-a-simple-set-of-tools-interview-with-jesse-grimes-pt1-832ebdcaad05">permaculturist</a>? Or, indeed, other colourfully clad, politically oriented utopian movements? </p>
<p>Similarities abound, but the focus on the cultural change that will necessarily accompany the full transition to renewable energy is the defining feature of solarpunk. </p>
<p>This is what I find deeply compelling about the subculture. We usually ask “can renewables <em>replace</em> fossil fuels?”. It is an <a href="http://reneweconomy.com.au/csiro-says-australia-can-get-100-per-cent-renewable-energy-86624/">important question</a>, but it does not grapple with the links between <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books/about/Living_Oil.html?id=fXP1AQAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&source=kp_read_button&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q&f=false">culture and energy</a>. Thus instead solarpunks ask “what kind of world will emerge when we <em>finally</em> transition to renewables?” and their writings, designs, blogs, tumblrs, music and hashtags are generating an intriguing answer.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>The lead image on this story was updated on July 20 to more accurately reflect the content of the article.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/80275/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jennifer Hamilton receives funding from The Seed Box: A Mistra+Formas Environmental Humanities Collaboratory, Linköping University, Sweden.</span></em></p>Punks aren’t known for their positivity, but ‘solarpunks’ are all about optimism. A new movement of speculative fiction, art, fashion, and activism, it imagines a sustainable future that requires radical social change.Jennifer Hamilton, Postdoctoral Research Associate, Department of Gender and Cultural Studies, University of SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/748662017-04-21T12:37:33Z2017-04-21T12:37:33ZHow punk and Thatcherism came together in the surreal ZX Spectrum Pimania craze<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/166272/original/file-20170421-12655-7evzr2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/mattandkim/3836367552/">Shever/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Listeners tuning in to Portsmouth’s independent station <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/domesday/dblock/GB-464000-99000/page/13">Radio Victory</a>, late at night in 1977, would have found themselves confronted with a mysterious electronic squeal. It sounded more like a transmitter malfunction or cat-like yawl than a music show. And yet, for the few hobbyists who owned a new-fangled “micro-computer”, this tinny squawk could be recorded and then fed via a tape-deck into one’s machine to play a puzzle game with “real prizes”. </p>
<p>The idea of “<a href="http://www.kotaku.co.uk/2014/10/13/people-used-download-games-radio">broadcast software</a>” never really took off. But these strange nocturnal laments marked the beginning of a relationship between technological innovation and tongue-in-cheek gimmickry that would blossom into a series of provocative, absurd and genuinely <a href="http://www.theartstory.org/movement-dada.htm">Dada-esque</a> computer games in the 1980s.</p>
<p>The Radio Victory broadcasts were the brainchild of Mel Croucher and Christian Penfold, who formed <a href="http://www.melcroucher.net/automata-archive/">Automata</a> in 1977. Automata originally started off putting together audio travel guides, until, lumbered with a surfeit of blank tapes, Croucher hit upon the idea of making cassettes with synthesised pop on one side, and simple computer games on the other. </p>
<p>These non-violent, politicised, “adult” games for the <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-12703674">Sinclair ZX81 computer</a>, were sold purely <a href="http://www.melcroucher.net/automata-archive/adverts.html">through mail order</a>. With potential naughtiness hidden behind “censored” stickers and warnings that “these games are not for the squeamish”, titles such as Smut, Vasectomy, and Reagan promised a salacious playground of racy graphics and moral corruption. Though, in truth, the block graphics could do little more than suggest a blocked toilet, urinating stick figure, or Ronald Reagan’s head. </p>
<p>Though not particularly inflammatory, this <a href="http://www.mobygames.com/game/can-of-worms">collection of games</a> laid the foundation for one of the most famous of these puzzles, <a href="https://www.retrogamer.net/retro_games80/pimania/">Pimania</a>, best known in its ZX Spectrum form.</p>
<h2>Punk provocation</h2>
<p>The now 35 years old, the ZX Spectrum was <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-the-zx-spectrum-helped-bring-about-famed-pop-parody-frank-sidebottom-74863">a tool of innovation for many</a>. Unlike the consoles of today, the ZX Spectrum was a platform on which legions of fans and “bedroom coders” could create their own games and other software.</p>
<p>Pimania’s fame rested on the creation of its vaguely obscene mascot, the Piman – though his droopy proboscis was rather less worrying than the condom-like pink suit Penfold wore to gaming fairs when in character – as well as the offer of a real golden sundial worth £6,000. The dial was buried in a secret location as the reward for the first player to successfully decipher the clues. </p>
<p>Although in appearance it was little different from other text-based adventures, Pimania, like all of Automata’s work, can be read as a dada-inspired “anti-game”. It was a source of entertainment and yet went against the traditional format of gameplay.</p>
<p>To many players’ frustration, the game only began with the use of a mysterious key – in actual fact the mathematical symbol π. Navigation was by a clock face (three for right, nine for left) rather than a compass. The objects to be found seemed deliberately meaningless or mundane: pork pies, rubber ducks, Valium. Moreover, the Piman himself was a mocking presence, constantly shifting in mood from hungry, to bored, to scared. </p>
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<p>This deliberate sense of alienation – an opening screen tells the player “You are cast into an arena of despair. A cage surrounds you” – suggests a punk sensibility wholly appropriate for the times. Croucher conceived of the game as taking place inside the innards of an enormous horse (like Nathanael West’s 1931 surrealist novel, <a href="http://gutenberg.net.au/ebooks06/0608931.txt">The Dream Life of Balso Snell</a>, which opens with the hero entering the Trojan horse through its anus); a Thatcherite landscape deep inside the bowls of the beast. </p>
<p>Play was arbitrary and capricious: sometimes a rubber duck would placate the Piman, at other times it sent him into a rage. Abuse, or foul language, got one ejected from the system. While taking a telescope to the observatory allowed for a view of some lost green and pleasant land, most players spent most of the time in the horse’s rear end, surrounded by jingles and adverts, throwing up after eating another pork pie. There were red herrings and dogs barking up the wrong tree. Meaning was either infantile or absent, the player endlessly searching for wealth in an empty and absurd landscape. </p>
<p>Less a game than a Dada provocation, it seems in many ways unlikely that there should be any real prize at all. And yet, in driving rain on July 22, 1985 (22/7 approximating π), two women who had followed the clues to the white horse at High and Over, a feature carved into the chalky Sussex Downs, were surprised by Chris Penrose in full Piman-regalia – who leapt out from behind a rock to <a href="http://www.worldofspectrum.org/hardware/piwin.html">present them with their prize</a>. </p>
<p>It says much for Penrose and Croucher that the pair were still prepared to travel there every year: by this stage Automata was all but over, bankrupted by the failure of <a href="http://www.users.globalnet.co.uk/%7Ejg27paw4/yr10/yr10_52.htm">Deus Ex Machina (1984)</a>, whose synthesised dystopia suggests another version of the 1980s. </p>
<p>Yet it was Pimania which arguably best captured the spirit of the times. For all their counter-cultural sensibilities, Croucher and Penfold created, marketed and distributed their products with a Thatcherite entrepreneurial spirit, helping to create the video games industry in the process. Unafraid of publicity stunts and gimmicks, and founded upon notions of prizes and the pursuit of wealth, Automata simultaneously embodied and subverted the values of the decade. </p>
<p>The winners of Pimania were actually looking at the white horse’s head when they should have been scrabbling around at its rear: a fitting punk metaphor for the times.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/74866/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alan Bilton does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Pimania was a product of Thatcherite entrepreneurial spirit, mixed with a dash of cheekiness and drippings of subverted expectations.Alan Bilton, Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing, Swansea UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/722872017-02-06T14:54:30Z2017-02-06T14:54:30ZAward-winning South African punk documentary is back. Why it’s so special<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155450/original/image-20170203-14016-1jidiam.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Fokofpolisiekar's lead vocalist Francois van Coke.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Liam Lynch</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>An <a href="http://www.flyonthewall.co.za/fokof.html">award-winning</a> documentary about the iconic South African Afrikaans punk-rock band Fokofpolisiekar (Afrikaans for “fuck off police car”) made nearly 10 years ago is back on screen; this time on the small screen. The band, which was formed in 2003, was instrumental in articulating the disillusionment and rebellion of Afrikaans youth growing up in the dreary suburbs outside Cape Town. These young people felt disconnected from their Afrikaner heritage and from the political realities of post-apartheid South Africa. </p>
<p>“<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1512131/">Fokofpolisiekar: Forgive Them for They Know Not What They Do</a>” (Bryan Little, 2009) is streaming on <a href="https://www.showmax.com/eng/welcome/za">Showmax</a>, the internet TV service, which is available in 65 countries, including 37 African countries. </p>
<p>So now you can see, from the comfort of your couch, what the fuss was about when it was first released. In 2009 it won the audience award and its screenings were sold out so quickly that extra ones had to be added at the <a href="http://archives.encounters.co.za/backup09/2010/">Encounters</a> International Documentary Film Festival. It also created a buzz at the <a href="https://www.idfa.nl/industry/tags/project.aspx?id=c4b917e4-4eaa-4e0a-95a0-fee25b225314&tab=idfa">International Film Festival Amsterdam</a>, one of the biggest and most prestigious documentary film festivals in the world.</p>
<p>The band’s popularity drew many viewers to the film at the time, but the reason the film endures is because of its form, particularly the way in which it was edited. The self-reflexive style it uses for its editing is not seen nearly as often in documentary film as continuity editing. Continuity editing, which is prevalent in conventional, mainstream films, usually tries to limit possible interpretations a viewer can make. </p>
<h2>How does it work?</h2>
<p>Self-reflexivity entails the inclusion of cues within the film that remind the viewer that it is, indeed, a film. Continuity editing is a well established style of editing for many documentaries. As a matter of fact, it is the style taught generally, and certainly taught first, at most film schools. </p>
<p>The goal of continuity editing is to make cuts invisible to the viewer, so that she is not distracted from the narrative or from emotional identification with the film. This allows viewers to focus on, and lose themselves in, the narrative and forget about how the film was made. But it is not the only way of editing a documentary. Self-reflexivity makes the audience aware of the constructed nature of the film, thereby acknowledging the subjectivity of the filmmaker(s).</p>
<p>The most overt forms of self-reflexivity in documentary films are, arguably, the inclusion of the director or other crew members on screen, or direct references (onscreen or offscreen) to the production of the film. But there are also more subtle ways of reminding the audience that they are watching a construction. The way the film is shot, edited or structured, what is included and left out, can all lead to self-reflexivity.</p>
<p>The “Fokofpolisiekar” documentary uses several devices to create visual interest in the film itself. It includes, for example, animated photographs in which the foreground, midground and background have been digitally separated and moved in relation to each other This documentary juxtaposes shot size, format and content. It also alternates behind-the-scenes handy-cam tour footage with high production value concert footage.</p>
<p>Self-reflexive editing is often fast paced, disjunctive and jarring. This increases the visual intensity of the film, heightening its effect. Fiction films like “Natural Born Killers” (1994), “Man on Fire” (2004) and “District 9” (2009) are edited in the self-reflexive style, taking their inspiration to some extent from music videos. Film theorist Ken Dancyger refers to this style as “MTV editing” in the <a href="https://books.google.co.za/books/about/The_Technique_of_Film_and_Video_Editing.html?id=IXZ8ROuUlBMC">book</a> “The Technique of Film and Video Editing”. </p>
<p>This style of editing can incorporate flash frames, jump cuts and animation. Self-reflexivity often arises from a combination of different editing styles in one film. In “Fokofpolisiekar” the editing matches the fast pace and energy of the band’s music, and so there is a conversation between <em>what</em> is shown and <em>how</em> it is shown.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155454/original/image-20170203-14031-1yeny76.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155454/original/image-20170203-14031-1yeny76.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=105&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155454/original/image-20170203-14031-1yeny76.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=105&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155454/original/image-20170203-14031-1yeny76.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=105&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155454/original/image-20170203-14031-1yeny76.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=133&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155454/original/image-20170203-14031-1yeny76.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=133&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155454/original/image-20170203-14031-1yeny76.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=133&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Three consecutive close shots from Fokofpolisiekar: Forgive Them For They Know Not What They Do.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A jarring cutting pattern, characterised by cutting between close shots without the use of wider, contextualising shots, is often used, as in a sequence of seemingly unrelated close shots from “Fokofpolisiekar” shown above. Characters and details are much more important than narrative, temporal or spatial clarity. </p>
<p>Characters, events and objects may be shown, but the audience might never find out where the events occurred, what triggered them or what their consequences were. This can be effective in communicating mood or atmosphere, concepts or themes. The viewer has to engage with the film actively to draw meaning from it. Meaning is not presented to the viewer in an uncomplicated or mediated way. </p>
<p>The value of self-reflexive editing lies in its ability to engage the audience actively since, as the Academy Award winning editor Walter Murch <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2141.In_the_Blink_of_an_Eye">says</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>suggestion is always more effective than exposition. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Past a certain point, the more effort you put into a wealth of detail, the more you encourage the audience to switch off, to become spectators rather than participants.</p>
<h2>Omission, discomfort and active engagement</h2>
<p>In the introductory sequence of “Fokofpolisiekar”, for example, a visual sequence is accompanied by audio extracts from various interviews. No interviewees are shown and no indication is given of who the various speakers are. Omitting chyrons (an interviewee’s name and designation usually provided at the bottom of the screen during a documentary interview) and faces at this point in the film signifies that the opinions of experts and laypersons should be weighed equally. It suggests that all perspectives collected here are of similar value, and that the source of an opinion is not as significant as what is being said.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155452/original/image-20170203-13989-7handd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155452/original/image-20170203-13989-7handd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155452/original/image-20170203-13989-7handd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155452/original/image-20170203-13989-7handd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155452/original/image-20170203-13989-7handd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155452/original/image-20170203-13989-7handd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/155452/original/image-20170203-13989-7handd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption">Fokofpolisiekar guitarist Wynand Myburgh.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Liam Lynch</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But these disembodied voices lead to discomfort in the viewer. We want to know who is speaking, so that we can place and weigh what they say. The omission is conspicuous and so the construction of the film is emphasised. While the audience tries to figure out who is who and how valid each perspective is, this engagement pulls them into an active conversation with the film. It encourages them to question what they see and hear, rather than take it at face value.</p>
<p>Self-reflexive editing invites the audience to engage actively with the text to make meaning of what they see on the screen. Where continuity editing largely fixes interpretation, self-reflexive editing often requires that viewers make connections between details or infer context from the actions shown. Viewers may have to wait longer to have the questions that are posed by the film answered, if indeed those questions are answered at all. And they are constantly reminded that what they are watching is, indeed, a film.</p>
<p>“Fokofpolisiekar: Forgive Them for They Know Not What They Do” is worth watching again today, almost 10 years after its completion, not just if you’re a fan of the band, but also if you’re interested in the evolution of the South African documentary form. As this film shows, South African film has certainly come a long way from the binary of apartheid state-sanctioned public broadcast television documentaries vs underground resistance films of the pre-1990s. “Fokofpolisiekar” manages to question mainstream notions of identity while remaining visually stimulating and entertaining to watch.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/72287/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Liani Maasdorp does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>A pioneering documentary about South African punks, Fokofpolisiekar, doesn’t only focus on the band, but also illuminates the evolution of the documentary form.Liani Maasdorp, Senior lecturer in Screen Production and Film and Television Studies, University of Cape TownLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/692792016-11-25T01:58:45Z2016-11-25T01:58:45ZSmash it up, burn it down: should Joe Corré set fire to punk history this weekend?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147456/original/image-20161124-15348-8u9df.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A painted bus sculpture entitled 'Punk'ed' by artist Valerie Osment at Trafalgar Square in 2014.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Luke MacGregor/Reuters</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In March this year, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/music/shortcuts/2016/mar/20/joe-corre-burning-sex-pistols-collection-memorabilia-punk-anniversary">Joe Corré announced</a> that on November 26 he would burn his collection of punk memorabilia. As the son of Malcolm McLaren (manager of the Sex Pistols) and renowned fashion designer Vivienne Westwood (whose clothes helped define the punk aesthetic), Corré’s collection is somewhat more impressive than that of an average punk fan. </p>
<p>The items he is threatening to destroy include a pair of Johnny Rotten’s trousers, a Sid Vicious doll, and test pressings of Sex Pistols records. The collection has been estimated (by Corré himself) to be worth more than 5 million pounds. </p>
<p>The burning is a protest against what Corré describes as the co-optation of punk by the establishment and the mainstream, and the way that “rather than a movement for change, punk has become like a fucking museum piece or a tribute act”.</p>
<p>In particular, he is protesting against <a href="http://punk.london/about/">Punk London</a>, a year-long series of events commemorating the 40th anniversary of punk. Sponsors of Punk London include the Mayor of London (which was Boris Johnson at the start of the events) and the National Lottery. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147457/original/image-20161124-15362-hfq8uk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147457/original/image-20161124-15362-hfq8uk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147457/original/image-20161124-15362-hfq8uk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=397&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147457/original/image-20161124-15362-hfq8uk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=397&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147457/original/image-20161124-15362-hfq8uk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=397&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147457/original/image-20161124-15362-hfq8uk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=499&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147457/original/image-20161124-15362-hfq8uk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=499&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147457/original/image-20161124-15362-hfq8uk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=499&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Joe Corre.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Neil Hall/Reuters</span></span>
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<p>Among those opposed to the burning is ex-Sex Pistols front man John Lydon. Although Lydon himself once burned a number of rare punk items in a <a href="http://www.mtv.com/news/501701/john-lydon-destroys-sex-pistol-rarities-for-television-pilot/">pilot for a reality tv show</a>, he has <a href="http://www.nme.com/news/music/john-lydon-2-1195814">described Corré as ‘selfish’</a>, suggesting that he should sell the items and give the money to charity instead, a call that has been echoed by many other critics of Corré’s plan.</p>
<p>This argument runs into trouble though if we think about Corré’s threatened actions as a type of artistic statement. Destruction has always had a place in art, and the deliberate ruining of something valuable can be an effective way to draw audiences’ attention to a statement an artist is trying to make. This tactic has been used by artists like <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/jonathanjonesblog/2014/feb/18/ai-weiwei-han-urn-smash-miami-art">Ai Wei Wei </a>, or, in an example very similar to the punk burning, by the band the KLF in 1994 when they <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i6q4n5TQnpA">burned one million pounds</a>. The KLF were criticised on the same grounds as Corré, for not making ‘better use’ of the money. </p>
<p>Considered as a form of art, however, the idea that the money that the punk items represent, or that the KLF burned, could or should be spent better elsewhere should also be applied to any other works of art. All artistic endeavour – including institutions like galleries or art schools – could be thought of as using resources that could be directed to more practical ends. </p>
<p>This leaves us in a situation where either we accept that money spent on artistic endeavours should more ethically be spent on helping the poor or put towards other utilitarian outcomes, or we accept that creating art is seen as a legitimate end in our society. Most people would lean towards the latter.</p>
<p>Another criticism made of Corré, however, is that the value of the items is not about money, but about heritage and memory. The historical legacy of the artefacts, the argument goes, is not really something that can belong to one person, regardless of the legal ownership of the items, and so it should not be up to Corré to decide what happens to them. </p>
<p>This argument is not entirely straightforward either, as it connects back to questions about what punk is. Corré’s suggestion that it is against the spirit of punk for it to be institutionalised, or put in museum cases, cannot be lightly dismissed. Punk has always had connections to commerce (as Mclaren and Westwood’s involvement with the movement – selling clothes out of a shop - demonstrated), and has cycled through moments of greater and lesser ‘mainstream’ success. But since its inception, there have always been forms of punk that have offered genuine resistance to what it is that capitalism offers. </p>
<p>Examples include record labels like <a href="https://www.dischord.com/history/">Dischord Records</a>, that for 36 years has been run on a not-for-profit basis and uses money made to support bands from the local area, or <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dial_House,_Essex">Dial House</a>, an art commune established by the band Crass in the 1980s. The ideals of punk continue to take hold and flourish in pockets around the world, most of which are focussed on local community and exist under the radar of mainstream culture.</p>
<p>The punk that turns up in museum exhibits is very far removed from the still-living punk movement. The safe containment of punk items in exhibition cases (including those seen as part of Punk London) inevitably drains these items of at least some of their controversy and rebelliousness, and puts them out of the reach of fans and audiences. </p>
<p>What, then, is the more meaningful way to maintain the legacy of punk - to reverentially preserve its artefacts, or to express its spirit of disruption through an act of destruction? </p>
<p>While artefacts from popular music (like other important cultural items), are valuable and deserve preservation, the shock value of the burning is likely to be far more effective in drawing attention to questions of what punk is, and how culture should be treated in our society, than almost any other approach.</p>
<p>For that reason, I hope Corré actually goes through with his plans on Saturday. Burn, baby, burn.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/69279/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
In March this year, Joe Corré announced that on November 26 he would burn his collection of punk memorabilia. As the son of Malcolm McLaren (manager of the Sex Pistols) and renowned fashion designer Vivienne…Catherine Strong, Lecturer, Music Industry, RMIT UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/606332016-06-09T20:08:21Z2016-06-09T20:08:21ZFriday essay: punk’s legacy, 40 years on<p>Like many youngsters of the late 70s, my first exposure to punk rock was memorable and social – perhaps, even, societal. It was some time in 1977, I was having dinner with my parents and siblings at my grandparents’ place, and the Sex Pistols were a featured story on Weekend Magazine, the ABC’s Sunday evening infotainment program. </p>
<p>In my dim recall, the band were simulating a live performance against a black background (it was <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q31WY0Aobro">probably the clip to Anarchy in the UK</a> - of course, entirely new to me then, very familiar now) with sound grabs from members and some footage of everyday punks on busy thoroughfares evincing menacing idleness. This was very starkly and clearly not <a href="https://youtu.be/YZUE4_PtOk0?list=PL6X_XlGgVWNmYL7cKPZ-J7y3_P2UsKDSY">Supertramp</a>, <a href="https://youtu.be/ZdHI3LrAYiE">10CC</a>, or <a href="https://youtu.be/IT1q7L4QA0A">Fleetwood Mac</a> with their fey, wry, decadent meanderings. </p>
<p>Whereas the late <a href="https://youtu.be/PcdwdW8H3_U">David McComb</a> – soon after, the central songwriter and singer in the Triffids and eventually a late 20th century Australian musical legend – told me had the rest of his life shaped by what he saw that night, I have to say that I don’t recall anyone at our dinner at Mavis and Norm’s semi-detached bungalow expressing disgust, despair, angst, delight or exhibiting any other response to the clip. It was grist to our mill, so worldly were we in suburban Caulfield in the late ‘70s. </p>
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<p>Punk is now, apparently, 40 (which must make me 51). <a href="http://doublej.net.au/programs/jfiles/punk-in-the-uk">Double J</a> is running what it calls “a month long celebration of the seminal artists, albums and moments that make up four decades of disruption”. As a musical form – and even though it was regarded, when it first emerged, as a retro throwback eschewing a decade of progress in pop music – it was obviously the most exciting thing going in western music when it sparked. It spoke about ideas, the having of them and the diffusion of them, and about the fate, role and obligation(s) of the individual in society. </p>
<p>It was cool, but it was also extraordinarily difficult to access: public radio was not only just coming into being, it was obscure and, well, elitist; the records themselves were hard to find and, when found, expensive. But it was at least as much about attitude as it was about sound or style: I, like others interested in counterculture and “scenes”, put reading about it (which I did, avidly) above finding ways to hear it. </p>
<p>The weekly New Musical Express, easily the best music paper of the late ‘70s and still a British institution today (sadly, in very reduced form), was a world in itself. I still probably wouldn’t recognize more than a couple of songs by <a href="https://youtu.be/--erJSsmraY">The Damned</a>, but I read every word about their trials and tribulations in 1977-8. Funny, that.</p>
<h2>Early Australian innovators</h2>
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<span class="caption">The Saints.</span>
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<p>Since then, I have come to realise that Australia had its own very valid and important punk scene, too, and I feel those early innovators must be acknowledged partly for their contribution but also as a phenomenon. I was semi-aware of <a href="http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/the-saints-be-praised/story-e6frg6n6-1111113470421">greats like The Saints</a>, already gone, but it was hard to find their music anywhere. </p>
<p>There were brilliant magazines like Adelaide’s Roadrunner that covered the right stuff, but popular music, while it obsessed me, was vast and varied and, as I mentioned, expensive for a teenager. </p>
<p>There are Australian stories of legendary acts with a Stooges-brand punk attitude. In 1973, Perth had a band called Pus; Sydney had The Rats; Melbourne had Judas Iscariot and the Traitors. Brisbane had the aforementioned Saints, a band with a unique musical vision rooted, like the others’, in the unpretentious and bratty 1960s. None of these bands knew about each other but they, or various key players, had enough gumption and critical mass to form a “scene” by 1976 or thereabouts. </p>
<p>As was typical of Australians then, when the international equivalent sprang up, the locals (and their “street” fellow travellers – think <a href="https://youtu.be/TryAj1Jd0PI">The Sports</a> or even <a href="https://youtu.be/ALDBia-izio">Paul Kelly</a>) were classed as imitators. In this case, most of the artists were sufficiently self-assured to not give the proverbial toss, but the damage was done to their reputation as originals. The difficulty of fitting these stories into a recognisable narrative, however, means that in the main they are forgotten or unknown: not influential, just undeniable.</p>
<p>By the beginning of the 1980s, I was fully immersed in punk’s less strident and more arty sibling, new wave – even faking being adult to see bands, on occasion, starting with the <a href="https://youtu.be/7boWPUrIzGk">Serious Young Insects</a>, <a href="https://youtu.be/YrAlqtqJ-h8">International Exiles</a> and <a href="https://youtu.be/5tQdk79q7N4">Kids in the Kitchen</a> supporting Snakefinger. </p>
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<p>Soon, out of school and on the dole, still living at home undertaking what would later come to be known as a “gap year” (the gap actually extended about five years) there were many options to help the local musical arts economy, for instance with regular visits to Melbourne’s great record shops of the era: Exposure, Missing Link, Greville, Gaslight. </p>
<p>I recall two elderly ladies walking past Missing Link and observing a display advertising the Birthday Party’s album Prayers on Fire. “Punk rock”, said one. </p>
<p>The other made a noise to convey the concept of, “I just threw up in my mouth”. </p>
<h2>Gruelling Thatcherism</h2>
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<span class="caption">A mural in Shoreditch, London by French street artist Tilt includes the lyrics to the Sex Pistols ‘Anarchy in the UK’.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Andrew Winning/Reuters</span></span>
</figcaption>
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<p>In 1986, I was able to avoid my grandparents’ Sunday dinners for an extended period of time, swapping them for six months of gruelling Thatcherism within earshot of the tyrant’s heartbeat – London. </p>
<p>Of course, punk was a postcard caricature by then and its memory only discernible to the knowledgeable in new wave, postpunk (both of those terms were, by the way, beneath contempt in the mid-80s), new romantic, and whatever else had come along since. </p>
<p>But what Michelle – my girlfriend at that time – and I did do one Saturday afternoon (the 19th July, I now discover: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Festival_of_the_Tenth_Summer">there’s a Wikipedia page</a>!) was hop on a train to Manchester to be a part of a celebration of punk’s tenth anniversary. </p>
<p>Her diary – which she dusted off when I asked her about the event – reveals a lot of detail I’d forgotten; that we were “shocked and distressed” on arriving at the venue to find it cost £14 to get in (I think that was a week’s dole). </p>
<p>Michelle, apparently, was able to sneak down the front for <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V-9Gc7COu8Q">The Smiths’</a> set and was “scared to death in a crush to the front”. Other acts that day were <a href="https://youtu.be/gDTTisFHw0A">The Fall</a>, <a href="https://youtu.be/epcF8P90nwE">New Order</a>, Orchestral Manouevres in the Dark, A Certain Ratio and Cabaret Voltaire (I have absolutely no recollection of seeing these last two, though I was and remain a fan of both). </p>
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<p>It’s weird now to look back on this event and appreciate that what might now be seen as bands who in many instances typified slick English New Wave – albeit with a very Manchester flavour – were seen as appropriate to celebrate a decade since “punk”. </p>
<p>A very drunk Bill Grundy – the TV presenter still to this day primarily famous for his ad hoc “filth and the fury” Sex Pistols interview – berated the audience. But Grundy’s presence notwithstanding, the festival might seem to show very conclusively how much “punk” – the spirit, the attitude, the values, and even to some extent the sound – was being co-opted into not only popular music, but also popular attitudes. </p>
<p>This was only going to accelerate: no-one could possibly have conceived of the Sex Pistols being so much a part of “history” to have been commmemorated at the London Olympics - but that’s what the establishment does, it keeps its enemies closest of all.</p>
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<p>As mentioned, I’m 51, and I deal with enough young people to know it’s foolish to try and typify what “they” think. There is some truth, it would appear, to the often evoked (by my generation) notion that young people have so much access to music past and present that, in many instances when they really engage with the popular music of former generations they have trouble stringing the beads of influence into the necklace of historical chronology.</p>
<p>That said, if we are going to celebrate the impact of punk as a form and a style, we need to make some points about its lasting value. I think there are quite a few – and I offer them as one who firmly believes that their impact is hard now to fully appreciate: as if we were living in a crater so large we don’t notice the meteorite that made it. </p>
<h2>A voice for women</h2>
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<span class="attribution"><span class="source">tangi bertin</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
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<p>Firstly, I would say that punk gave women a voice in a way that (for instance) the pompous megabands of the early 70s tended not to. Even the most popular female musicians of that era – <a href="https://youtu.be/IGJyjFhCgkE">Joni Mitchell</a> and <a href="https://youtu.be/NAj8suae3WY">Kate Bush</a> are two geniuses who spring to mind – were frequently willfully misunderstood by the patriarchal rock business and fans. Of course, a lot has changed yet of course, a lot has stayed the same. </p>
<p>British punk of '76-77 alone served up X Ray Spex’s <a href="https://youtu.be/DGROSJbCPV8">Poly Styrene</a>, <a href="https://youtu.be/VfnYu2Jergk">Siouxsie Sioux</a>, the <a href="https://youtu.be/ZyXGblps64M">Slits</a> and, soon after, <a href="https://youtu.be/oDrUZOZnFNE">the Raincoats</a>, <a href="https://youtu.be/xzVIVvDVnbE">PragVec</a>’s Barbara Gogan and my own favourite from that era, <a href="https://youtu.be/KMzOLL8CHLY">Essential Logic</a>, led with verve by the redoubtable Lora Logic. All of them forceful, individual, passionate women who didn’t give a loose root what men thought (or at least, they didn’t seem to; the Slits’ Viv Albertine’s <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/19246471-clothes-clothes-clothes-music-music-music-boys-boys-boys">recent memoir</a> suggests that toughness was hard to sustain). </p>
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<p>On top of that, women were – seemingly for the first time, with a few very notable exceptions – musicians in bands (that is, with all due respect to singers, not “just” singers). </p>
<p>In Australia in the late 70s, there were women playing as apparently equal members in groups; <a href="https://youtu.be/BCjknobfJUQ">Karen Ansell</a> in the Romantics and the Reels; Denise Rosenberg in the <a href="https://youtu.be/GpYsns3FQKs">Primitive Calculators</a>; Cathy McQuade in <a href="https://youtu.be/2GwKb67TzrQ">the Ears</a>; Helen Carter in Friction and, later, <a href="https://youtu.be/7LN_b6iTDc4">Do Re Mi</a>; Clare Moore in the Sputniks and then <a href="https://youtu.be/LbWpI8-QnQY">the Moodists</a>; this small list, of Australians only, goes on and on. The opportunities these inspirational women took from punk rock continue to resonate. </p>
<p>Secondly, there’s something punk rock has done to the dynamic between audience and artist, and it’s healthy. Back in the early 70s there was a compact between performers and consumers that wasn’t that different from Weber’s cult of celebrity: indulge me, the big names said, and I will show you the way to something deeper. Most music fans of the early 70s accepted that rock stars were better than them; they almost needed them to be. </p>
<p>Punk put paid to that, in the main. The new breed was virtually compelled to be down-to-earth in their opinions and self-estimation – at least in their public pronouncements. There were to be no more self-indulgent LP-side-long workouts; two and a half minutes (preferably two) per song, verse chorus verse chorus and then onto the next thing.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/125864/original/image-20160609-3488-jcvw9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/125864/original/image-20160609-3488-jcvw9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/125864/original/image-20160609-3488-jcvw9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125864/original/image-20160609-3488-jcvw9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125864/original/image-20160609-3488-jcvw9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125864/original/image-20160609-3488-jcvw9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125864/original/image-20160609-3488-jcvw9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125864/original/image-20160609-3488-jcvw9d.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Thomas Eger</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span>
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<p>Yes, almost immediately there were challenges to the form (Buzzcocks’ overlong <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbQSFWAEc8k">Moving Away From the Pulsebeat</a> springs to mind – with a drum solo, no less!) but they just proved the rule. Of course, there is self-indulgence in popular music today and there always will be: in an individualistic form like music, you can’t expect otherwise. The critic and the consumer, however, are less likely to wave it through because a special class of person is expressing him or herself. </p>
<h2>A DIY smorgasbord</h2>
<p>Thirdly, punk – particularly when it came to the wicked Malcolm McLaren, the Sex Pistols’ manager and later, creator of the aburdist early 1980s group Bow Wow Wow – highlighted the economic relationship between consumer and creator as mediated by industry. </p>
<p>McLaren almost seemed not to understand the Sex Pistols’ appeal (or rather, cared less about it than he did about the band’s capacity to shift units). With <a href="https://youtu.be/L9sfRyn5EeM">Bow Wow Wow</a>, a band which McLaren stuffed with ideas – few of which actually meant much to the musicians involved – he promoted the notion of home-taping and individualistic op-shop style as piratic appropriation. The kids, McLaren said, were killing the music industry by just taking its wares (Bow Wow Wow tried to sell records on the basis that no-one should pay for them). </p>
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<p>But the notion that music should be for all intents and purposes free, and that far from feeling guilt about theft, music lovers should be proud to take, has a resonance that has only strengthened in an era when delivery modes have gone far beyond recording from radio to cassette. </p>
<p>The nascent Sex Pistols, notoriously, stole their equipment from established bands (and their sound from the Stooges via glam rock, but that’s another story). </p>
<p>Most younger people’s musical experience (once again, I’m probably oversimplifying for argument – yet to some degree it’s everyone’s musical, and cultural, experience now) is of a pastiche, and not just because <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/fashion/features/the-ramones-t-shirt-from-cult-and-credible-to-absolutely-everywhere-10405930.html">Ramones t-shirts outsell their records</a> to an infinite degree. </p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/125845/original/image-20160609-3504-1b64sm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/125845/original/image-20160609-3504-1b64sm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125845/original/image-20160609-3504-1b64sm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125845/original/image-20160609-3504-1b64sm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=447&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125845/original/image-20160609-3504-1b64sm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125845/original/image-20160609-3504-1b64sm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125845/original/image-20160609-3504-1b64sm9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=561&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Amal FM</span></span>
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<p>That the 21st century aural experience is a mélange, bordering on cacophony, might ultimately be the most lasting legacy of ’76 punk: you take what you want from the smorgasbord and give it your own individualized meaning.</p>
<p>In fact, feel free to manufacture something new from what’s on the table; it may only be the sum of its parts but it’s yours and those who don’t like it can fuck off and/or do their own. </p>
<p>Looking back at the “tenth summer” in Manchester in ’86, I can only speculate on what Michelle and I, and everyone else present, thought we were doing. Ten years seemed like an extraordinarily long period of time back then, and it stretched back to preadolescence for us.</p>
<p>We were trying to be cavalier, perhaps, about the idea that a groundbreaking musical/fashion movement was still resonating around the world too loudly to yet be properly understood.</p>
<p>The reconstruction that was going on around us – New Order with their embrace of fabulous synthesizer pop with truly dreadful throwaway lyrics, the indescribably unique and uncompromising layered rock of the Fall, the similarly unique, but far more universally embraced disaffected literary Byrdsian pop of the Smiths – were ways through après le deluge and, in hindsight, attempts to deal with the horrors of neoliberalism. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/125838/original/image-20160609-3509-ghn12y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/125838/original/image-20160609-3509-ghn12y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/125838/original/image-20160609-3509-ghn12y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=406&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125838/original/image-20160609-3509-ghn12y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=406&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125838/original/image-20160609-3509-ghn12y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=406&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125838/original/image-20160609-3509-ghn12y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=510&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125838/original/image-20160609-3509-ghn12y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=510&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/125838/original/image-20160609-3509-ghn12y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=510&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Johnny Rotten performing with the Sex Pistols in 2007.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Mario Anzuoni/Reuters</span></span>
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<p>Any real punk, however, would readily see through the stupidity of fixating on an anniversary: why should that be the time to reassess and evaluate?</p>
<p>That time, she or he would no doubt say, comes every hour of every day - and not to adhere to an ethos, but to be a rounded and perceptive human being. This was most definitely a central tenet of John Lydon’s philosophy - only heightened when he quit the Pistols and their subsequent output devolved to the most extraordinary dross (<a href="https://youtu.be/XvsdlIY9sJw">Friggin’ in the Riggin’</a> anyone?).</p>
<p>Michelle’s diary only records that she wanted to stay in Manchester another day and see the Smiths again; they were playing in Salford the next night. (I wish we had done that – I love the Smiths – but I don’t think it was in the least bit affordable). </p>
<p>She doesn’t record any philosophical musings between us about the meaning the “spirit of ‘76”. However, we were living by a standard of maintaining an independent perspective, respecting the rights of others to expression, and generally not being a dick.</p>
<p>In that respect, I am pretty sure, we had learnt our punk rock lessons well.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/60633/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>David Nichols does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Punk gave women a voice; changed the dynamic between audiences and performers and offered music fans a DIY smorgasbord. On its 40th anniversary, that’s worth celebrating.David Nichols, Lecturer - Urban Planning, The University of MelbourneLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/562882016-04-14T20:02:48Z2016-04-14T20:02:48ZFriday essay: Dogs in Space, 30 years on – a once maligned film comes of age<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/118632/original/image-20160414-22040-1kez47n.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Michael Hutchence bought name recognition to Dogs in Space. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">The Making of Dogs in Space</span></span></figcaption></figure><blockquote>
<p>A fairly unattractive bunch of bored and boring party givers, mindlessly driving around midnight streets waiting for pieces of Skylab to fall on them and searching for meaning in the TV test pattern, hardly makes for a riveting film experience.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Barbra Luby’s critique of Richard Lowenstein’s <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0092904/">Dogs in Space</a> for Filmnews in early 1987 was not an atypical response to the film when it was released 30 years ago.</p>
<p>With its large ensemble cast, its apparently non-linear structure and its celebration of what might be considered self-destructive and self-aggrandising behaviour, Dogs in Space seemed to many to be showcasing its A$2 million budget (high for the time) – and putative star, <a href="http://michaelhutchence.org/work/dogs-in-space/">Michael Hutchence</a> – in all the wrong ways.</p>
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<p>Hutchence, an international celebrity as the lead singer of INXS (their single, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FoEPrbdfmT4">What You Need</a>, was top 5 in the USA during filming), was ostensibly the film’s main attraction – and his name enabled above average funding for an otherwise “underground” production.</p>
<p>But he was only one of a large ensemble cast. The result is a circus, a cabaret, a social document and a morality tale (of sorts) all in one.</p>
<p>It also, in part, comes close to documentary. Many of those before the cameras had, in fact, been active participants in the 1978 Melbourne “scene” the film explored. Indeed, some had lived in the house in which the film was made – where the director, Lowenstein, had briefly cohabited with singer and playwright Sam Sejavka.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/118622/original/image-20160414-22035-zopsyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/118622/original/image-20160414-22035-zopsyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=799&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/118622/original/image-20160414-22035-zopsyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=799&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/118622/original/image-20160414-22035-zopsyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=799&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/118622/original/image-20160414-22035-zopsyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1004&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/118622/original/image-20160414-22035-zopsyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1004&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/118622/original/image-20160414-22035-zopsyz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1004&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The house at 18 Berry St in 1902.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dogs in Space Facebook page</span></span>
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</figure>
<p>Dogs in Space is a series of snapshots of lives in and around 18 Berry St, a large two-storey weatherboard house in Richmond. It focuses on the residents – Grant the hippy, Tim the synthesizer player, the rather mundane Anthony, the university student Luchio and the singer Sam (played by Hutchence) – all living in chaos.</p>
<p>Visitors and parties are frequent. There is a compulsion for experience and expression – be it through sex, drugs, excursions (including the occasional 90 minute trip to Ballarat to visit Victoria’s first 7-11) and the creation and consumption of music.</p>
<p>Apart from an opening caption declaring we are in “Melbourne, 1978”, the film’s events are barely contextualised. More action occurs in separate, disconnected scenes than can be properly understood in one go: this film encourages multiple viewings. </p>
<p>While many characters are non-sequiteurs, those whose lives almost follow a conventional narrative arc include Sam and his girlfriend Anna, who overdoses on heroin and dies. The ironic aftermath of this moment – which kills the household’s hedonism – is that Sam uses “his” tragedy to become a successful pop star.</p>
<p>The character of Sam was undeniably based largely on Sejavka, then a member of the band <a href="https://theears.bandcamp.com/">The Ears</a>, (renamed Dogs in Space for the film). Sejavka was employed as an advisor on the film but he and Lowenstein fell out, apparently because Sejavka objected to the way in which the script depicted Sam as complicit in Anna’s death.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/118636/original/image-20160414-25397-z8y172.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/118636/original/image-20160414-25397-z8y172.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/118636/original/image-20160414-25397-z8y172.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/118636/original/image-20160414-25397-z8y172.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/118636/original/image-20160414-25397-z8y172.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=480&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/118636/original/image-20160414-25397-z8y172.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=603&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/118636/original/image-20160414-25397-z8y172.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=603&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/118636/original/image-20160414-25397-z8y172.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=603&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Sam Sejavka, lead singer of The Ears.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">rockpool73</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/">CC BY-NC-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The inclusion of some “terrible” music, and the depiction of the bands’ performances as a backdrop for violence, drinking, drug taking, ribaldry and so on, lent the film an air of decadence. To many in the mid-1980s, this seemed to indicate that Lowenstein was misrepresenting a serious, artistic, politically charged era.</p>
<p>The critic Vikki Riley – who played in a band, Slub, with musician and actor John Murphy, who actually appeared in Dogs in Space – disliked Lowenstein’s approach. Writing in Cinema Papers in 1987, she argued Lowenstein had lost an opportunity to capture a “magic atmosphere” that had “given way to clichés and tokenisms”. He had, she wrote, refused “to acknowledge any effort at subversion that the punks in the film make”. </p>
<p>But as Dogs in Space celebrates its 30th anniversary, it feels like the world has caught up with the film. Many who dismissed it – including some of its cast – have revised their opinion of the production. They now see it as capturing an era more truthfully than they were able to appreciate in 1986. At the same time, a new audience has emerged who respond to the film on very different terms.</p>
<p>The 19th century Berry Street house – it has its <a href="https://www.facebook.com/18-Berry-Street-130296073699949/">own Facebook page</a> – was recently given <a href="http://vhd.heritage.vic.gov.au/reports/report_place/970">local heritage status</a>. In part this was for its role in the internationally celebrated coming-of-age film. People born long after the film’s release, and inspired by the era and community it depicts, now make pilgrimages to 18 Berry Street.</p>
<h2>A gritty vein of Melbourne cinema</h2>
<p>Cornelius Delaney, known at the time as Nique Needles and a well-known actor in the mid-1980s, was part of the “scene” of the late 1970s. He was also part of the cast of Dogs in Space, playing the character of Tim.</p>
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<span class="caption">Nique Needles in the film.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dogs in Space</span></span>
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<p>Today, Delaney – now a visual artist with a doctorate, living in France – is philosophical about the film’s humour. Lowenstein seemed to many at the time to be playing up the low-rent pretensions of his characters, and highlighting the ridiculousness of their tribal affiliations. Barbara the student activist, who visits the house spouting memorized rhetoric, or for that matter Chris Hayward’s unnamed “chainsaw man,” join the self-sculpted misfits of the house as a gallery of “types”, often hilarious cyphers.</p>
<p>Delaney feels that – particularly given the subsequent success of many of the people depicted in the film – they deserved to be taken more seriously by Lowenstein. For instance, the musician Hugo Race has just released his memoir, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29231996-road-series">Road Series</a> (2016). The late musician Rowland S. Howard is celebrated and memorialized in another Lowenstein film, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2015298/">Autoluminiscent</a> (2011). A bandmate of both men, Nick Cave, has carved out an impressive career worldwide. Ollie Olsen, the film’s musical director who also appears in it as a performer, has maintained a music career notable for innovation. </p>
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<p>Still, Delaney concedes that it was,</p>
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<p>kind of bizarre that we were all involved in it and it was Sam’s life and Richard’s life and Tim’s life and that we were all hanging around at a party in 1980 in February, and then six years later in March we’re getting paid to recreate the same party.</p>
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<p>However, he also feels that there was an underlying validity to the world shown in the film:</p>
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<p>That mob of people, it was like – ‘Yeah, of course that was going to happen to us … We’re the most fabulous people Australia has ever known.’ And it was kind of true.</p>
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<p>A host of international “punk rock” films since Dogs in Space have aimed to shed light on the gritty side of anti-commercial, anti-everything music of the late 70s (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0274309/">24 Hour Party People</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0421082/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1">Control</a>, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0384683/">What We Do Is Secret</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1017451/">The Runaways</a>, for instance).</p>
<p>But Dogs in Space arguably connects more deeply with a gritty vein of Melbourne filmmaking than these cinematic explorations of punk or related milieu. Instead, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0084350/">Monkey Grip</a> (1982) and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0075111/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1">Pure Shit</a> (1975) are its parents, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0101692/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1">Death in Brunswick</a> (1990) is its sibling and Lowenstein’s 2001 film <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0172543/">He Died With a Felafel in His Hand</a> its offspring.</p>
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<p>There is compression and simplification in Dogs in Space, and perhaps unusually this is an element that makes it problematic to undertake a “straight” reading of it. The time frame across which the film takes place might superficially appear to be a few weeks or months in 1978 – the only date we are given – or go a few years, into the 80s.</p>
<p>The household itself is also difficult to pin down. The Ears, the band Dogs in Space is based on, endured across at least three share houses featuring its singer, Sam Sejavka. Two other members of that group have suggested that “Berry Street is actually a compression of several different places, but it’s the coolest one of the lot.”</p>
<p>The film is often erroneously typified (for instance, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dogs_in_Space">on Wikipedia</a>) as portraying Melbourne’s brief and unusual “Little Band” scene (i.e. bands that were intended as ephemeral and, in so being, a slap in the face of “serious” rock music). </p>
<p>But this is only half the story: The Ears were not one of the “little bands” and, judging by their recorded legacy and testimony from those who saw them in their original incarnation, they were a very accomplished and talented rock group with no little ambition. Dogs in Space, on the other hand, are generally incompetent, and the two songs we see them perform do not inspire or delight. </p>
<p>In a Cinema Papers interview in 1987 Lowenstein revelled in relating the way in which he revealed to potential investors that his plan for the film’s music was that it be,</p>
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<p>terrible, but we’re going to play on the fact that it’s absolutely terrible … It was a strange thing to do.</p>
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<h2>A new generation of viewers</h2>
<p>When we presented on Dogs in Space at a Monash University seminar late last year, one audience member in his twenties claimed to have seen the film hundreds of times. </p>
<p>It was, he said, a core element of every weekend of his teens growing up in regional NSW.</p>
<p>He was intrigued to know that the film’s myths were (by some measure) “real”. The response of his group of friends to the action was, however, not as a depiction of historical events but to a social scene, an outlook and an approach which has replicated across decades and generations.</p>
<p>A similar story – in some respects – is told by a student in her mid-twenties whose housemate was so moved by the film, and Rowland S. Howard’s death in 2009, that he made a concerted effort to live his life like the Berry Street house.</p>
<p>This involved “music/going out, drugs, angering neighbours … the 7-11 story as well as his fixation on asking people to drive him around at night …”</p>
<p>“Then,” she adds, “he got over it and studied law”.</p>
<p>In its celebration of youthful bohemianism bordering on nihilism (if not narcissism), Dogs in Space is a groundbreaking film. It made no apologies for focusing on a circle of musicians, artists and wannabes who are interesting for their own sake, but also interested in themselves (and self-interested).</p>
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<span class="attribution"><span class="source">A scene from Dogs in Space.</span></span>
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<p>It also – peculiarly for the era – made no attempt to feature inherently likeable or identifiable characters. This was a novel cinematic worldview that has since become de rigeur in cutting edge television: think Seinfeld or Mad Men, but more recently <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1723816/">Girls</a>.</p>
<p>When Huffington Post writer Lena Kay <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lena-kay/why-i-dont-like-girls_b_4913250.html">protested in 2014</a> of Girls that she found it “difficult to relate to – or to want to relate to – someone who rejects so thoroughly the self-improvement that I have always found necessary to get good things in life,” she was echoing one of Luby’s central objections to Dogs in Space three decades before.</p>
<p>The many central characters of Lowenstein’s film are ostensibly rejecting, while still feeling the comfortable embrace of, their middle-class backgrounds, just like Hannah, Marnie, Jessica, Shoshanna and their satellites in Girls.</p>
<p>In both instances, depiction of a social group is often read (particularly by critics who feel threatened by such depictions) as either uncritical or as elitist: created for a closed circuit of the class or generation depicted.</p>
<p>Dogs in Space has not only historical relevance, and value to posterity with qualities that veer towards both cinema verite and docufiction; it also has a timelessness and a contemporary feel that make it relevant to subsequent generations. In this context Delaney’s comment on his experience of the late 1970s is probably most pertinent:</p>
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<p>I think hedonism consumed a lot of us, but the horrific events of now kind of retrospectively validate our position that society is f…ed, consumerism is f…ed, politics is f…ed, everything’s f…ed, and we were saying that 30 years ago and we were kids.<br></p>
<p>So we had a pretty good instinct for what was coming.</p>
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<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Richard Lowenstein’s 1986 film Dogs in Space was a punk circus/social document that alienated many. But on the film’s 30th anniversary, it seems the world has caught up with it and a new audience of fans has emerged.David Nichols, Lecturer - Urban Planning, The University of MelbourneSophie Perillo, Academic tutor, school of design, The University of MelbourneLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.