Sunday, February 06, 2005
The Truth About Britain's Music Scene
Sunday mornings are rarely as energetic. I bounced out of bed (yes - really), at 9am and made myself some coffee and toast. After a quick shower I got dressed and headed out into a brisk morning chill with overhead blue sky to get the morning papers.
The News of the World was giving away a free classic rock CD and I bought my usual Sunday Herald. Back at the house Gail and Laura had also got up and so the house polishing began once more.
By two o'clock you could have ate your dinner off any floor, shelf or surface in the house, it was that clean. We relaxed and waited for the throngs of people to come and view.
By three o'clock nobody had been and I could sense Gail's nerves starting again at the thought of not a single viewer. At three thirty, the doorbell went and we had our second viewer - a little old lady keen to buy an easy-maintenance home on ground level that is near to a Bowling Club and the Doctors. Since we satisfy all these requirements, our fingers are crossed she will make an offer.
The thought of writing did nothing for me today and I struggled to get any motivation up. I wrote my blog entry for Saturday, which usually gets me going but nothing. Part of it was tiredness. All this house cleaning and getting hyped up over possible buyers is probably not dong me any good, and the longer it goes without any notes of interest then the more the pressure will build as we reach our moving out date. Two mortgages is not something we even want to consider.
I ended up taking hold of my notebook and sitting in front of the television. I did finally come up with some good stuff – mostly for Hunting Jack and the thirteen issues I have to get through this month. I began to wonder it maybe I have given myself too much, but then I feel guilty for not pushing myself hard enough. It’s a balancing act and I suppose I have yet to find the optimal point.
While writing in my notebook we had ‘The 100 Greatest Pop Videos’ programme on the television. I was disgusted to see Ghost Town by The Specials only getting to number 91 despite the pivotal role it had to play in the culture back in the early 80’s.
The presenter (Jimmy Carr) said, “This video and the song came at a time when Britain’s cities were caught in the midst of riots – so with The Specials job done they split up and formed the Fun Boy Three”.
This may be funny to some, especially those from Thatcherite backgrounds, but back in 1981 Britain found itself in trouble. The numbers of jobless people was rocketing, the schools were emptying of kids who had no hope and no future, and Thatcher’s government was at the beginning of a torrid period, which saw the death of the coal and iron industries. The only thing that kept a lot of kids on the straight was music, and particular at that time, Ska.
The Specials were the founders of the movement, and Ghost Town went to number 1 that summer because it spoke out for the young, ditched by Thatcher and left hung out to dry. The song captured the mood of the nation in a 3 minute, mood-packed, acutely political track recorded onto a 7” plastic disc. The vinyl merely reflected what was happening in the country – it was not the cause of it.
Madness came in at number 25 with the video for Baggy Trousers. A classic of its time, the kids in the playground and mood of those formative school years, was captured forever in the fun-packed video with the flying Sax man. I never realised it was Peter Ustinov’s trousers though, that were used in the video (size 50).
One thing that continually sprung to mind was how far British music has plummeted in the last thirty years.
In 1978 we had Sid Vicious with his version of the Sinatra classic My Way in the charts (number 85 in this poll). Whatever you may think of the likes of the Sex Pistols, at least they had passion, belief and courage. They were stupid of course – but they believed in making their own mistakes and sticking two fingers up at anyone who said they couldn’t. The people who followed bands like the Pistols are now grown adults, with families and wives and nice houses (mostly). They look back on their teen years with enthusiasm and pride, for it was a time when they were truly free to express themselves in any way they wished, even if that meant sticking safety pins through their noses and putting super glue in their green hair.
Nowadays we have bands like Girl’s Aloud, Brian McFadden or McFly – squeaky-clean artists who are nothing more than cynical marketing ploys.
Take Busted for example. Gail and I spent around £100 ($170 USD) between us for tickets, petrol, food and merchandise, when Laura went to see Busted just before Christmas. Two weeks later they announced they were splitting up due to “artistic freedom of rights”. Bullshit! They weren’t artists to begin with – they were puppets for the fat cats like Simon Fuller. And don’t tell me the timing of the split wasn’t planned in advance so they could take full advantage of mugs like me who will pay the cash.
Don’t get me wrong; I am glad Laura went because it was a great memory for her to have. But when you see older girls on the TV crying and receiving counselling because a band have split up you have to start asking questions.
The point is though, that the kids who follow the bands nowadays are fed negative images. For example, you must be beautiful, you cannot be chubby, you must not have spots, and you must never touch drink or drugs or do anything bad. Yeah ok – and this may be the image that sells records but it isn’t reality.
What happens when these kids grow up? Fans of the Sex Pistols emptied themselves of their frustration and anger at their “teenage problems” on a dance floor to the sound of angry music. In twenty years we are going to have a nation full of adults who still have the anger within them – and what then? Where is it going to go?
It is a blanket of fear – a fear of self-expression - that has been placed over the country that has led to music losing its way and thus by transference, a nation of kids who don’t know where they are going. And the government have introduced an anti-social policy to rid the gangs of Neds from our streets.
All they really have to do is bring back Punk and Ska. Give the kids an identity, something THEY can relate to, not what the beaurocrats and fat cats would like them to be like so they can rake more cash in. Because if we don’t, things will only get worse for our ears, and the country will be left in a void full of people who can't think for themselves and who believe the way forward is to kill individuality and replace it with processed art.
The News of the World was giving away a free classic rock CD and I bought my usual Sunday Herald. Back at the house Gail and Laura had also got up and so the house polishing began once more.
By two o'clock you could have ate your dinner off any floor, shelf or surface in the house, it was that clean. We relaxed and waited for the throngs of people to come and view.
By three o'clock nobody had been and I could sense Gail's nerves starting again at the thought of not a single viewer. At three thirty, the doorbell went and we had our second viewer - a little old lady keen to buy an easy-maintenance home on ground level that is near to a Bowling Club and the Doctors. Since we satisfy all these requirements, our fingers are crossed she will make an offer.
The thought of writing did nothing for me today and I struggled to get any motivation up. I wrote my blog entry for Saturday, which usually gets me going but nothing. Part of it was tiredness. All this house cleaning and getting hyped up over possible buyers is probably not dong me any good, and the longer it goes without any notes of interest then the more the pressure will build as we reach our moving out date. Two mortgages is not something we even want to consider.
I ended up taking hold of my notebook and sitting in front of the television. I did finally come up with some good stuff – mostly for Hunting Jack and the thirteen issues I have to get through this month. I began to wonder it maybe I have given myself too much, but then I feel guilty for not pushing myself hard enough. It’s a balancing act and I suppose I have yet to find the optimal point.
While writing in my notebook we had ‘The 100 Greatest Pop Videos’ programme on the television. I was disgusted to see Ghost Town by The Specials only getting to number 91 despite the pivotal role it had to play in the culture back in the early 80’s.
The presenter (Jimmy Carr) said, “This video and the song came at a time when Britain’s cities were caught in the midst of riots – so with The Specials job done they split up and formed the Fun Boy Three”.
This may be funny to some, especially those from Thatcherite backgrounds, but back in 1981 Britain found itself in trouble. The numbers of jobless people was rocketing, the schools were emptying of kids who had no hope and no future, and Thatcher’s government was at the beginning of a torrid period, which saw the death of the coal and iron industries. The only thing that kept a lot of kids on the straight was music, and particular at that time, Ska.
The Specials were the founders of the movement, and Ghost Town went to number 1 that summer because it spoke out for the young, ditched by Thatcher and left hung out to dry. The song captured the mood of the nation in a 3 minute, mood-packed, acutely political track recorded onto a 7” plastic disc. The vinyl merely reflected what was happening in the country – it was not the cause of it.
Madness came in at number 25 with the video for Baggy Trousers. A classic of its time, the kids in the playground and mood of those formative school years, was captured forever in the fun-packed video with the flying Sax man. I never realised it was Peter Ustinov’s trousers though, that were used in the video (size 50).
One thing that continually sprung to mind was how far British music has plummeted in the last thirty years.
In 1978 we had Sid Vicious with his version of the Sinatra classic My Way in the charts (number 85 in this poll). Whatever you may think of the likes of the Sex Pistols, at least they had passion, belief and courage. They were stupid of course – but they believed in making their own mistakes and sticking two fingers up at anyone who said they couldn’t. The people who followed bands like the Pistols are now grown adults, with families and wives and nice houses (mostly). They look back on their teen years with enthusiasm and pride, for it was a time when they were truly free to express themselves in any way they wished, even if that meant sticking safety pins through their noses and putting super glue in their green hair.
Nowadays we have bands like Girl’s Aloud, Brian McFadden or McFly – squeaky-clean artists who are nothing more than cynical marketing ploys.
Take Busted for example. Gail and I spent around £100 ($170 USD) between us for tickets, petrol, food and merchandise, when Laura went to see Busted just before Christmas. Two weeks later they announced they were splitting up due to “artistic freedom of rights”. Bullshit! They weren’t artists to begin with – they were puppets for the fat cats like Simon Fuller. And don’t tell me the timing of the split wasn’t planned in advance so they could take full advantage of mugs like me who will pay the cash.
Don’t get me wrong; I am glad Laura went because it was a great memory for her to have. But when you see older girls on the TV crying and receiving counselling because a band have split up you have to start asking questions.
The point is though, that the kids who follow the bands nowadays are fed negative images. For example, you must be beautiful, you cannot be chubby, you must not have spots, and you must never touch drink or drugs or do anything bad. Yeah ok – and this may be the image that sells records but it isn’t reality.
What happens when these kids grow up? Fans of the Sex Pistols emptied themselves of their frustration and anger at their “teenage problems” on a dance floor to the sound of angry music. In twenty years we are going to have a nation full of adults who still have the anger within them – and what then? Where is it going to go?
It is a blanket of fear – a fear of self-expression - that has been placed over the country that has led to music losing its way and thus by transference, a nation of kids who don’t know where they are going. And the government have introduced an anti-social policy to rid the gangs of Neds from our streets.
All they really have to do is bring back Punk and Ska. Give the kids an identity, something THEY can relate to, not what the beaurocrats and fat cats would like them to be like so they can rake more cash in. Because if we don’t, things will only get worse for our ears, and the country will be left in a void full of people who can't think for themselves and who believe the way forward is to kill individuality and replace it with processed art.
Colin 11:59 am
2 Comments:
Dave,
I never thought about it like that...so in a perverse kind of way you could be right! :-)
But are you going to be the one to tell Jerry Dammers that his 2-Tone label only worked because of Thatcher?
Not a job I'd like!
I never thought about it like that...so in a perverse kind of way you could be right! :-)
But are you going to be the one to tell Jerry Dammers that his 2-Tone label only worked because of Thatcher?
Not a job I'd like!
Interesting comments as always, Big Chap.