Monthly Archives: February 2020

Dave Robinson

Stiff Records founder interviewed in 1975, Street Life, number 1, November 1 – 14, 1975.
There’s some really interesting bands mentioned, especially as it’s 1975 and punk is barely on the horizon. Stiff was set up in 1976 and it’s first release was from Nick Lowe.

Hope springs annual..

Dave Robinson is a fool for live music. A former Famepusher, manager of Brinsley Schwarz, now running the eight-track studio at Islington’s Hope And Anchor (probably the London pub gig), he spends most of his nights in pubs listening to bands. He goes happily up and down the pubs of Holloway Road listening to irish Country and Western groups: “There are some really good bands, though they don’t get the credit for it. If one of those bands was to play at the Hope people would love it, but because they’re in Irish pubs…”
He’s not so fond of concerts: he feels music should be part of the evening, and would much rather stand drinking to good music than sit looking at the people making it. He’s even less fond of bands with the ‘hey look at me’ presentation. He doesn’t feel that drinking while you listen is an insult to music or musicians.

The Hope and Anchor’s reputation for finding and promoting good new groups is a matter of some pride: the ‘phone, he says, never stops ringing with groups wanting to play there. He works by instinct, tending to investigate further if the name sounds attractive or the manager keeps away from the usual routines … it’s not an infallible system, but he has to select somehow. He couldn’t see every band that asks. He knows some bands would be wrong for the Hope’s customers: three-piece heavy metal bands aren’t quite the thing, nor – rather more suprisingly – is reggae.

Last year, the Hope promoted a festival of “Real” music, a kind of winners’ show of the good new bands they’d found. This year they’re doing it again, though without the rather arrogant title, between October 20-29. The list runs: FBI, Mickey Jupp Band, Roogalators, Alberto Y Lost Trios Paranoias, Supercharge (from Liverpool), the 101’ers, Neil Innes’ Fatso, Graham Parker and the Rumour, Moon, Crazy Cavan and the Rhythm Rockers, JB’s Little Acre (from Dudley) and Kilburn and the High Roads. You can bet there’ll be plenty of record company A&R men there for those ten days, but Robinson is fierce about them.

“Take football – any promising young player will be signed up by a club by the time he’s 16 or 18, because there’s such a good scouting system. Why aren’t the record companies out round the pubs looking for new bands? They don’t find them early, so what happens is that by the time they’re any good there are ten record companies all bidding for them.

“Most people in record companies wouldn’t get jobs in advertising agencies or straight business. Everyone sits around moaning that nothing’s happening, but if nothing’s happening it’s because the record companies aren’t making anything happen. You need a catalyst, there are a lot of good bands, good songwriters under the surface; but these people seem to think bands fall off trees.”
That he says, was what was so good about the pub rock boom a couple of years ago – it gave people the incentive to get bands together by removing the disincentive of the need for huge PA and stacks of amps. But the boom has been squeezed, there are now fewer music pubs, and many promoters are playing safe, not experimenting with untried bands.
You can understand why: Robinson says they reckon they’re doing pretty well if they make £40, and despite the improvements to the cellar the Hope is pretty small. They suffer, too, from bands who begin to establish themselves by playing a residency, who don’t draw people at first and who, when they start pulling in a profitable crowd, become Too Big to play the Hope.
It gets him down, but it doesn’t put him off. As he says: “Most people I really rate as musicians are usually incomplete human beings.”

Steve Peacock

Girl Beatnik

Girl Beatnik

This girl comes from New York
but she does not belong.
Along the neon lights, this girl
runs away from herself.

To this girl the world seems odious-
a moralist who’s been howled down.
It holds no more truths for her.
Now the ‘twist’ alone is true.

With hair mussed and wild,
in spectacles and a coarse sweater,
on spiked heels she dances
the thinnest of negations.

Everything strikes her as false,
everything-from the Bible to the press.
The Montagues exist, and the Capulets,
but there are no Romeos and Juliets.

The trees stoop broodingly,
and rather drunkenly the moon
staggers like a beatnik sulking
along the milky avenue.

Wanders, as if from bar to bar,
wrapped in thought, unsocial,
and the city spreads underneath
in all its hard-hearted beauty.

All things look hard-the roofs and walls,
and it’s no accident that, over the city,
the television antennae rise
like crucifixions without Christ.

Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Chappaquiddick Bridge

The Poison Girls album reviewed in Spare Rib, number 104, March, 1981.

Chappaquiddick Bridge

Poison Girls
(Crass Records)

Poison Girls state the obvious. They declare point-blank that the system which rules the world is absolutely intolerable. Their response is impassioned protest, and they hint that love is our only hope – without ever romanticising sexual love. They expose most sex under the system as phony, oppressive and cannibalistic (I saw you shove that drainpipe down your trousers) as well as indicating that for those who try to make new kinds of sexual relationships there is hardship, mystery and struggle:
You turn me on so strange
You plunge me in so deep
You’re from the other side
No familiarity to ease me in.

Though their philosophy has a Brechtian simplicity, their lyrics are not simplistic. They never suggest that changing the world is an easy, linear process. They deliberately adobt ambiguous imagery in order to disrupt the tendency to slither into mindless slogans. For example, I would like to think that in the song ‘Underbitch’ they are referring to woman-as-underdog. But the word ‘bitch’ repeated ad infinitum has its own momentum and the song certainly seemed to be saying something about life under Thatcher, the Big Bitch. Their desired effect is to make you examine words of all kinds, especially insults. Why are strong women called bitches? What is the link between rebel women, the dispossessed, we who are called women’s libbers, bitches, witches, and male impersonators like Thatcher who is also called a bitch, an old bag, a hag? The dnger is that the casual male listener will simply take the word ‘bitch’ at face value as standing for all that frustrates him. But of course Poison Girls hope that none of their listeners are casual.
Because of their commitment to experimentation the record is uneven. Some tracks seem to stall – they remain a cacophony, a monotony; but on the others discord, repition and the occasional sweet melody are transformed into flaming passion.
The ragged, wavery, intense quality of lead singer Vi Subversa’s voice suggests grief, knowledge, resistance and a complex perception of the world. She is the only woman in the band, but the articulation of her experience and feminist vision is central to their collective identity. More than anything else, the difficulty of mothering in a woman-hating, blood-sucking death culture ignites the songs:
I denounce the system that murders my children/ I denounce the system that denies my existence…/ Only a curse leaps like blood from my throat/ To curse the warlords that lay to waste our labour/ That lay to waste the wombwork and the labour.
Lucy Whitman

Chappaquidick Bridge is available from Crass Records, c/o Rough Trade, 202 Kensington Park Road, London W11. £3 plus p&p.

Schoolday In Man Quang

This 60s poem from The Catholic Worker, June, 1965.
The incident in the poem was reported from Saigon on March 18 and 25, 1965, by the Special Correspondent of The Times.

Schoolday in Man Quang

On Thursday a Vietcong flag was noticed flying
Above the village of Man Quang in South Vietnam.
Therefore Skyraider fighter-bombers were sent in,
Destroying the village school and other “structures.”
The bombing mission killed an estimated 34 schoolchildren,
And three adults.

From Man Quang survivors of the raid, not pacified,
Tried to carry the coffins into Da Nang as a protest;
But were held in security by government forces,
Who made an indemnification over the children’s bodies;
And arrested the parents.

There is no information about lessons in progress
When the children died: perhaps civics, a foreign language,
Or the catechism; or “Practical Subjects”-pottery,
Domestic science, woodwork, metalwork: in darkness
Burning, dying.

On Thursday a Vietcong flag was noticed flying.

Denis Knight

Policing The Police

Stuart Hall opened a 1981 pamphlet, Black & Blue, Racism and the Police, put out by the Communist Party following an October, 1981 conference, which he also opened, in wake of the riots that swept the country that year.

Policing the Police

There is something of a temptation to assume that if only one could bring to a halt the formal and informal prectices of racism in the police, in some way the causes of racism itself would thereby be dealt with. But, in my view, if the police were to undertake a real pledge to abandon and abolish every taint of racism in their practice, the problem of British racism would still be the same.
Nevertheless there is a specific and dramatic problem of how to oppose police racism. That is the sharp end of racism. It is where blacks and others encounter a drift and thrust towards making the whole of society more policed.
I want to say a few words about what seems to me the general context within which that has arisen. First, there is a very general pressure to expand the place and role of policing. In industrial relations, in the surveillance and information keeping on black and radical groups, in the excercise of immigration laws, in a whole number of ways there has been a push in society over the last 15 years towards the enforcement of stricter police practices.
Second, the black communities have become the targets of intensified policing. They have become stigmatised as areas of endemic crime and political unrest, of an alienated and increasingly foreign sector of the population, which needs a substantial blanket police presence.
This stems from the political polarisation of the past 15 years and the ‘criminalisation’ of the black community.
There has been a large scale national thrust to draw policing, the law and the courts directly into the control of political and industrial problems. This has increased the ability of the police to bear directly on local communities, and to be formally more racist.
The issue of law and order generally, and specifically in relation to the way black people have to struggle for existence, has been made one of the most contentious and explosive questions today.
In my view, the left is unprepared in dealing with the political context of ‘law and order’. Traditionally law and order is either seen as an issue which relates to civil liberties (which are seperated out from hard politics) or as an issue which ‘people of good will’ who are not themselves involved in criminal activities, can take out of politics.
One of the first tasks therefore has to be a shift of attitude within the left organisations – not black organisations, because they already know. The issue of law and order has to be politicised. Unless that happens, the left will turn a blind eye when the state draws on authoritarian and police backed solutions to political and industrial questions.
How has the thrust towards a more policed society affected the black communities? Here, I think, we can speak without exaggeration of the increasing criminalisation of the black community in several senses. First, as a consequence of black people’s place in economic and social structures, increasing numbers of young blacks are driven to petty crime as a mode of survival.

If You’re Black….

The second, and much more widespread way in which the black population has been criminalised, is that it has been stereotyped as criminal by nature. Thus in the press, in public discussion, and especially in policy making behind the scenes, it is assumed as a matter of commonsense, that black communities require more and tougher policing than other sectors of the community.
As a consequence, the police forces themselves have increasingly operated with that stereotype, especially in their relations with young black people that walk along the public highway. Black clubs have also been subject to persistent harrassment over long periods of time.
It took a demolition job to discover that behind the Bristol incident in April 1980 lay long and persistent harassment by the police of one of the few places left where blacks felt free to go. Police entry into the last bastion of Bristol’s black community sparked off the so called Bristol riots.
The immigration issue is used to supply the police with the discretion to go into houses and ask questions. There are places in Britain where adult blacks, especially Asians, will now carry a passport in order to provide ready identification on the street.
It is sometimes said that since britain is very largely racist you have to expect the police force to be racist too. I suppose it follows that since very large numbers of people in Britain commit crimes, you should expect a very substantial proportion of the police force to commit crimes too.
If you were able to produce evidence to senior policemen of the extent of crime within the police force, they would feel obliged to do something about it. But when you say that it is an offence that a policeman in a car driving along a street, coming alongside a black lad, feels able to abuse him verbally, the police do not feel, apparently, any pressure to do anything about it.
I believe it would be possible, if not for the black communities, then for the police’s own disciplinary procedures, to make it unacceptable for verbal racist abuse to persist. But anybody who knows how the police behave on the streets knows that it is customary for blacks to be discussed in the most abusive terms.
When they take blacks into the station, do they even begin to respect the rights of suspects? Is physical intimidation avoided? In practice, there is a suspension of the so called Judges’ Rules.
You will know of countless stories of young people taken in whose parents do not know where they are for 24 or 48 hours; people taken in who do not know what it is they may be charged with; of people who are told they may be charged with one thing, and are eventually charged with something else, partly because, having been physically or verbally abused, they respond. If they weren’t guilty when they came, they’re guilty by the time they leave. If you hassle a community it will react, and then you can charge it with reacting.
It is in these everyday ways that the old style, liberal defences against abouse of state power over individuals have been progressively eroded. The police feel they are able to get away with it behind close doors because, in general, there is now a very strong official view that society has been allowed to go lax, and that Britain has to recover morally as well as economically. Indeed, these two aspects are very closely linked together. One main instrument of moral discipline is the police.
The Thatcher government has given this enourmous thrust, although it’s something which was deeply enshrined in the policies of the Labour government. But it is also a thrust which has come from the police themselves. There is a very long history in this country of popular suspicion about the police. It took nearly a hundred years to set up on organised, paid police force. Yet now the assumption is: ‘Well, of course, crime is a matter which belongs in the police domain. They have to fight it’.
One of the most dangerous things we have seen in the last 10 years is the ending of the requirement that the police, though they apply the law, don’t get into the business of shaping it. Increasingly the police are the best organised and the most effective campaigning lobby for the expansion of police powers.
They have become the required spokespeople you listen to on the TV or radio on questions of police power. Law and order is not debated any longer unless you call on Jim Jardine of the police federation.
On every issue where the question of democratic control over the nature of policing is concerned, the line has been redrawn continuously in favour of the police. The police themselves have set the agenda. The Royal Commission on Criminal Procedures report yielded in significant ways to the pressure for an expansion of police powers. In one or two instances, it extended the protection of suspects, but the ground ceded to the law and order lobby is much more extensive than the safeguards recommended. That is not to say that we may not find ourselves using what safeguards exist. That is a fact of life.
I want finally to say something about what we begin to do about this situation. It is unlikely that we will have immediate successes. As a consequence of a persistant and long standing campaign, formally, the Sus law is to go. Although most of what the police were able to do under the Sus law they will now be able to do legally once again through the criminal attempts law, we are not so overwhelmed by success as to be able to ignore the victory.

Policing and Politics

We’ve had other important victories, not of the formal kind, but still most significant. For example, the Anti-Nazi League. We were within an ace of the National Front and its allies making really deep penetration into and gaining support among white youth. Although we may not have stemmed the tide for ever, the intervention of the Anti-Nazi League, generating public support for an anti-racist stand in the streets, was of crucial importance.
It is unlikely that any one strategy will suffice.
First it is a question of what formal and legal guarantees we can get -even though they are minimal – for populations and individuals exposed to the endemic racism of the police.
Second, one ought to seize every opportunity to take the question of policing out of its non political framework: this has to go on not only in the communities, but also crucially, in organisations of the left, and especially in the labour movements.
The question of policing is a matter of politics, and it is vitally urgent that the labour movement takes back these politics of law and order, the state and police into its heart. One has to shift the pubic attitude which accepts the credibility of the police against the credibility of blacks and black organisations.
Third, if any area of society needs democratic accountability, it is the police. For example, to whom is a Chief Constable responsible? What exact local authority powers are over their forces is very murky territory indeed. These questions are increasingly important, and it is our business to make them an issue.
The problems of police and black communities no longer concerns black communities alone. We want to say to the labour movement: if you allow the police the kind of latitude which you have permitted in the black areas, they will come into your own parish too, using the same tactics of surveillance, intimidation and control. The black community has simply been at the forefront of what a policed society means.
There is a widening gap between what is formally supposed to go on and what in practice happens on the streets. It is in that gap the liberties and rights of black people have been constantly eroded. So, even if we win more effective safeguards in the law, unless we can make them effective in the street, we might as well not try to win them, and that means the community must understand the question of policing.
Local organisations of whatever kind need to be capable of mobilising support and of checking police powers. Unless you can effectively get into the police station and bring to blacks and others who are exposed to intimidation, the kind of legal and social support which they require, there is no point in having a better or worse code of police practice. A code of practice is only effective when people enforce it.

Stuart Hall

The Otherside Of Everything

American poet Sarah Kobrinsky has a new collection, Nightime on the Otherside of Everything, available here.

The Lady in Red Sauce

Everyone knows not to have spaghetti on the first date
but she can’t help herself. She loves men
who like to watch women eat.

Not the fat-lady-fetish type, but the hardworking kind-
lovers who like to knead the bread
in order to find the bones.

Sarah Kobrinsky

Popticians – Live

John Hegley’s band reviewed in the NME, 28 January, 1984.

Pauline Melville

Deptford Albany Empire

The Albany is thick with one-gig-a-year stuffed shirts, trendy liberals and middle-class vegetable-faced hippies. The sweet smell of Hush Puppies and baked potatoes.
The busking Popticians could, thank God, be anywhere. Imagine Covent Garden, the Safeways check out, your own living room! John Hegley and his cohorts stroll on (real players these), adjust their spectacles, and strike a blow for the “working classes”. Cute, inane, witty, and with the underlying irony in ‘Living In A Mobile Home’ and ‘He’s In Love With A Brown Paper Bag’ striking a deeper they’re an irresistable joke at present. “The lightweight lyric is here to stay” – self-deprecation, welcome home John.
Pauline Melville, aka Edie, is into jokes as stitches hanging from a virtually seamless monologue. Interesting and sharp as needles in her appraisal of Greenham Common from the below-the-wire level, too many of her other targets are pure knitting routine-analyists. Exit, existentialists, polygamy, housewife orgasm groups, old jokes told in an old way. Predictably she went down a storm. The West End and fossilization beckon.

Peter Potts.

Estate Kids

From 1974, Workshop New Poetry, number 25.

Estate Kids

They are shooed away from an empty
breast, and put on the pavement
to prowl in undress
of the stray, sucking wistfully,
till they are taken in with the owl and
the underpants, to watch grey-washing
churning in the machine thst passes
for a sense of family.
And they sit as docile as fed cats.

But the hand-me-downs, lives
and landscapes away beyond glass,
will not fit unwashed bodies.

And this is the fancy dress they
wear when they learn tricks,
and I put my head in their mouths
because I mistake the long yawn of years
of growing, for a smile.
I know better, when they
shuck of lendings, and take on
the colours of old alleyways
with the speed of practised chameleons.

As my torch-bearing letters,
Posted between close-set bars,
Are a code they have no need to crack.

Colin Swatridge