The John Griff Column: Back to Basics - Again?

Punk music.

It’s generally accepted that punk emerged in the UK and developed during the 1970s – adopting as it did an ethos of non-conformity, anti-authoritarianism, anti-corporatism, a do-it-yourself ethic, anti-consumerist, anti-corporate greed, direct action, and, from a punk standpoint, not "selling out". At the time, Labour was in power through the administrations of Harold Wilson and then Jim Callaghan. The nation was heading towards what in 1979 would be called the ‘Winter of Discontent’ – but in 1976 we were reeling from the effects of drought, a long, hot summer with a heatwave for many and temperatures of over 35 degrees. At sea and across the negotiating tables of London and Reykjavik, Britain and Iceland battled The Cod War over fishing rights and practices, the Labour Party split in two, announcing a new Scottish Labour Party and the Provisional IRA blew up London’s West End not once, but twelve times. Inflation ranged from 24% to 16.5%.

Against that backdrop however, there were brighter moments. James Hunt won the Formula One world championship, a year after leaving Northamptonshire-based Hesketh Racing. Alongside the explosive arrival of punk here (it had emerged in the USA first), the UK won the Eurovision Song Contest with Brotherhood of Man’s ‘Save Your Kisses For Me’ – surely the most saccharine-soaked riposte to the Sex Pistols nihilistic offering in ‘Anarchy in the UK’. Punk here was harder than in the US, capturing as it did a lot of the discontent felt particularly by younger people – many of whom are either already or are nearing becoming members of the pensioner generation.

Punk’s ethos prompted huge creativity in culture the arts and more – Grigg’s Doc Marten’s boots becoming the enshrined must-have exemplar of what it was to be punk. ‘If you want to get ahead, get a hat’ they used to say. Punks looked to the pavement for their sartorial inspiration and expression – much of which is reflected in the Vivienne Westwood exhibition, on at the moment in the Northampton Museum and Art Gallery. I have a prototype pair of DMs in blue tweed which I bought at the then Wollaston-based factory shop and which I treasure – I rarely wear them out of respect for the craftsmanship in their making. Maybe Johnny Rotten and I have something in common – didn’t he wear tweed to advertise ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter’?!

My transportation back to the punk era came with the first chords of a punk night I went to at a local Royal British Legion venue last weekend – it was a 40th birthday party for one of the band members playing. Although hardly melodic (and never intended to be so), the raw energy – not to mention the barely-contained rage of the music took me back to my school days, with tartan drainpipes, Mohican styled hair held in place with egg white, and dozens of safety pins of varying shapes and sizes, pressed into action through unresisting human flesh, long before Elizabeth Hurley (was was indeed a punk at school back then) made them haute cuture in that Versace dress. Personally, I never embraced the punk way – but I have music from the more (paradoxically) establishment bands of the day in The Clash, Blondie, The Police (yes, them), Sham 69, Siouxsie and the Banshees and more in my collection. I recall that nihilistic ‘anything will do’ attitude as a means of communication and now, in front of me three musicians in a small punk band were stirring the pot once again on a wet Friday night at the Legion.

I will confess that we didn’t stay at the gig for long. On the journey home, my recollections of that time when I was very much a child contrasted with now and me at the other end of my lifespan. I found myself wondering whether that much had changed. We still have F1, Eurovision and disagreements over fishing borders. The Provisional IRA may not be blowing up the mainland right now, but we have certainly seen flashpoints elsewhere in recent times. Just this week we’ve seen flashpoints of a different kind in Scottish politics and the anticipation of similarly seismic changes in across British politics over the coming 12 to 18 months both here locally and at Westminster. We’ve witnessed local political leadership change in the county too – there will be more from the Police Fire and Crime Commissioner elections taking place across the nation today.

There’s also much of that rage still in existence too. In the 70s hardly anyone possessed a personal mobile phone, the internet hadn’t been invented and social media was something you expressed through parish magazines and via the local post office – all three now conspire to give everyone the opportunity to vent their feelings on any topic at any time, instantaneously and repeatedly. The ease with which people can be heard to be expressing themselves is infinitely more developed than it has ever been before – is that progress? I suppose we have to accept that it is, depending on what and how it is that is expressed, and provided that doing so doesn’t break the laws of libel and slander.

My journey back to the days of punk was a refreshing, re-affirming eye-opener, but my return to the here and now left me in no doubt as to which era I prefer. Today, we are better informed, more aware globally of the world around us, better capable to represent ourselves, and - generally speaking - better off financially. If you don’t agree, take a look back at those inflation figures and then consider that the basic rate of income tax then was 35% while the Bank of England’s Base Rate for Lending was of the order of 12%. It’s true that our roads were probably in much better condition back then – they could hardly have been worse from the lamentable conditions which we have to endure now. We do not have milk and honey – but I suggest that we are unlikely ever to have it anyway.

Are we punks? If it means having those traits of being non-conformist, anti-authority, anti-corporate, DIY, anti-consumerist, anti-corporate greed, direct action and not ‘selling out’, for some of us, possibly so, yes.