Spirit Of '69 - A Skinhead Bible - George Marshall

 SPIRIT OF '69 - A SKINHEAD BIBLE -

GEORGE MARSHALL

Published in 1991, Spirit Of '69 - A Skinhead Bible by George Marshall is essentially a scrapbook of cuttings centred around skinhead culture from its birth in the late Sixties to its globalisation in the Nineties, all woven around its story as seen through the eyes of the author. Apparently it's a highly collectable book nowadays and can go for silly money on eBay...

Marshall is a skinhead enthusiast and writes passionately about all aspects, all phases and all off-shoots of skinhead culture. He knows his stuff and it shows, marking out music and clothes as primary factors though also giving equal attention to other aspects such as violence, violence and er... violence.

Does anybody remember the Millwall Brick and knuckledusters made from coins? George Marshall does. Does anybody remember hippy-bashing, queer-bashing, and paki-bashing as racially aggravated attacks were once called? George Marshall does and this was all long before skinhead morphed into Oi! and skinheads became boneheads. This was back when skinheads listened only to reggae, ska and maybe a bit of soul. Long before the advent of Sham 69 and the intervention of right-wing political parties into the scene.

So, skinhead violence has always been a tradition right from the get-go and whilst it's enabled the culture to maintain a pariah status and engendered it with a sense of danger that repels the casual observer, it's also acted as an attraction to some and interestingly as a great indicator of class background and position.

There's nothing wrong with skinhead violence and the potential for it per se, it's just when it comes loaded with ignorance, prejudice, discrimination and right-wing politics that it becomes a problem and the intersection where class consciousness and violence divides. None of these aforementioned traits are implicit within the working class and are in fact diametrically opposed to actual and genuine working class values such as community and solidarity - the very values that Thatcherism sought to put an end to and that all right-wing politics of whatever extreme ultimately betray.

A personal gripe of mine with skinhead culture is its embracement of the Union Jack and all that comes with that flag - the monarchy, subservience, empire, and conservatism. The England that the Union Jack represents is the England of the Old Guard that belongs in the dustbin of history. It's the England that views its inhabitants as fodder. A regressive, repressive England that died in the trenches of Flanders but continues to stumble around like a zombie blinded by mustard gas.

A much truer England is that of Albion and is one that won't be found on the playing fields of Eton or in the mansions of the rich, nor in the fox hunts, the Cambridge Balls, the boardrooms of big business or behind the gates of Downing Street. It's the difference between Rule Britannia or God Save The King and William Blake's Jerusalem. Albion, however, is the country that's been thrown to the dogs, strangled with fences and stuck with knives. Fuck the Union Jack I want my country back, as the Irish rebel song goes. I want Albion back.

Nazis became skinheads rather than skinheads became Nazis, Marshall writes and to a point he's not wrong though it's a lot more involved than that. You have to wonder why the extreme Right made a play for skinheads and why they had so much success, particularly as a lot of the skinheads they attracted weren't even old enough to vote? Was it because the extreme Right saw skinheads as being a representation of the white working class constituency they were gunning for and that skinheads were potential shock troops? The idea being that if they controlled the streets then control of the ballot box would follow? Well, Anti-Fascist Action successfully put paid to that by physically attacking any attempt at Far Right organisation on the streets and making it near-impossible for them to congregate.

And talking of Shock Troops, if only more Oi!/skinhead-type bands had taken the stance of Cock Sparrer as expressed in their song Watch Your Back where they sang "All they want is total power, climbing on the backs of the working class. Well we don't wanna fight because you tell us to, so watch your back when you attack cos we might just turn on you."

Saying that, however, it must be stressed the vast number of the bands that fell under the Oi! umbrella were really good and not racist or fascist in the slightest. Sham 69, Angelic Upstarts, Cockney Rejects, The Business, Blitz - all good, solidly anti-racist bands, all covered by George Marshall along with less savoury coverage of the blatantly racist bands such as Screwdriver. It's a fine line he treads. A delicate balance he tries to strike though whether he succeeds is debatable and probably decided on where it is you're coming from.

'Politics has never done the skinhead cult any favours and it's doubtful it ever will,' Marshall writes 'And that goes for the Left and the Right. Somehow it has managed to worm its way into the very heart of skinhead, and by doing so has bastardised the cult. And the media's constant portrayal of skinheads as extremist political animals has simply reinforced the fallacy that to be a skinhead you've got to either be a fascist or a fascist hater.'

Spirit Of '69 - A Skinhead Bible makes a bid for a middle ground though without any thought given to how easy it is in doing so to enable fascism. Mensi of the Angelic Upstarts would physically fight fascists. The Cockney Rejects would beat fascists up. Sham 69 stopped playing live altogether at one point so as to put a halt on fascists gathering at their gigs. If there ever was a so-called middle ground I'm sure these bands would have taken it but the cost, unfortunately, might well have been too high.

For all this, it's not to say of course that these things shouldn't be written about and in fact it's probably important that they are, hence why a book such as this as written by George Marshall is of some importance. Some relevance, even, because as they say - those who fail to remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

John Serpico

In Search Of Albion - Colin Irwin

IN SEARCH OF ALBION - COLIN IRWIN

An ex-Assistant Editor of the now defunct music weekly Melody Maker is commissioned to write a book about England so sets his controls for the heart of Albion and heads immediately for Padstow, in Cornwall, for the May Day celebrations. Well, you would, wouldn't you? He then heads up to Minehead for a supposed similar celebration then back down to Land's End. The title given to the book is In Search Of Albion and it's all an interesting and revealing start to Colin Irwin's quest to find the spirit of England.

In Padstow he encounters a massive celebration with obvious Wicker Man overtones though without the human sacrifice element. At least not until after dark when all the tourists have gone home. In Minehead he encounters a total lack of interest - in anything, really. And at Land's End he encounters trash culture in all its dumbed-down lowest glory in the form of a mini-fun park and a sign post where you pay £12 for the privilege of having your photo taken under it.

It's not clear what Colin Irwin was hoping to find in these places but in Padstow he certainly has some kind of epiphany because he bursts out crying at one point, overjoyed at the communal singing and the mass celebration of the Obby Oss. Whilst at Land's End he's left deflated and almost feels like giving up on his quest before he's even really begun. But therein was his problem. From the outset he needed to understand that his quest was going to be coloured by his own perception of what Albion might actually be because the truth of the matter is that Albion isn't embodied in any place as such but in a spirit. A tangible energy to be more exact brought about through the amalgamation of spirit, liberty and people. Because Albion is both within and without. It's of and in the past, the present and the future. It's beyond the forces of man-made law and control and it's certainly beyond the power game of money, which is why he wasn't going to find it under a Land's End sign post where people are charged £12 for a photo op. Albion is dormant and brooding like a heavy early-morning mist hanging over the countryside but also explosive and exuberant like a crowd of football fans celebrating a goal. It can sometimes be glimpsed at the last night of The Proms as well as down at the front of a punk rock gig. It can sometimes be glimpsed during an urban riot as well as at a lonely funeral service. Albion is like fish beneath the ice.

Colin Irwin's right in believing it can be represented in music but wrong to assume that it's got to be old English folk music as played on acoustic guitars and tambourines (or even on the shaking bells of morris dancers). No, it can also be represented by skinhead Oi! music as played by a band like Cock Sparrer, Anarchopunk rock as played by a band like Crass, space rock as played by Hawkwind, or even Techno or Jungle as played by any number of DJs.

It may be found in Padstow on May Day for sure, but it may also be found on the dirtiest, neglected council estate on a Saturday night down the pub. It won't be found on the playing fields of Eton or at the Henley Regatta or even within the confines of Buckingham Palace but it might be found on the casualty ward of a hospital, on a picket line of striking workers or even within the confines of Dartmoor Prison. Which, to his credit, is where Colin Irwin goes next to watch a Devon folk singer called Seth Lakeman play a concert for prisoners, and suddenly he's back on track. This is then followed by a search for the lonesome grave of Kitty Jay at Hand Tor, in Devon; followed by tales of Babbacombe Lee, otherwise known as the man they couldn't hang at Exeter prison of old. He then heads for Glastonbury (of course) before landing in Dorset for the Tolpuddle Martyrs' Festival and it's here that he again becomes unstuck.

The story of the Tolpuddle Martyrs is one of working class defiance and is a landmark of British social history that should really be on the National Curriculum, but of course it's not. The annual festival is in commemoration of the martyrs and a celebration of English radicalism, and though Colin Irwin is sympathetic and a fan of Billy Bragg (who's there in attendance) that's about as far as his radicalism goes. Which isn't very far at all. In fact, if Billy Bragg is the start and end of anyone's radicalism then they might as well give up there and then, which essentially is what Colin Irwin does when it comes to the political aspect of Albion.

He has a conversation with some guy in the Martyrs Inn pub who tells him New Labour is anti-working class and that the capitalist Left should be rejected just as much as the capitalist Right, but rather than engaging with such an idea he makes light of it and feels a headache coming on. And therein again was his problem. From the outset he again needed to understand that his search for Albion was going to be coloured by his own perception of what Albion might be in a political sense. Because the truth of the matter is that whilst the Right wish to choke Albion with wires, strangle it with fences and stick it with knives; and whilst the Left wish to tame it and manage it through legislative coercion; Albion is in fact anarchic and free. Like it or not, Albion in a political sense is Anarchist, as alluded to in one of the greatest modern-day urban folk songs ever: I'm talking about Anarchy In The UK by the Sex Pistols. And as Johnny Rotten himself has pointed out, this isn't Anarchy as a middle class head game but Anarchy as a working class birthright.

From Dorset, the author travels on to Chippenham for some morris dancing, then over to the Isle of Man to discuss independence. Then to Manchester for the Chinese New Year celebrations, Burnley to discuss racism with Boff from Chumbawamba, Lancashire to find out about witch hunting and the tale of Alice Nutter (no relation to Chumbawamba's Alice Nutter), Baccup to witness the Britannia Coconut Dancers, Durham for the Miners' Gala Day, Cambridgeshire for more morris dancing with Pig Dyke Molly, then to Lewes for Bonfire Night. And quite a few other places in-between.

At times In Search Of Albion reads like a tourists guide to England and it must be said that at times it also reads like the opening line from that other great modern-day urban folk song by the Sex Pistols, Holidays In The Sun: "A cheap holiday in other people's misery." Particularly when he's in Durham. The jacket cover is pretty rubbish as well.

The author, however, manages to keep the whole book jovial and jokey and it's actually an enjoyable and interesting romp that should act as a prompt to further investigations into not only the places he writes about but also the customs, the history, the celebrations and the music he so clearly loves. He concludes by quoting a guy called Paul Wilson from the Wren Trust, a charity helping to promote Devon culture: "The thing is, the more we know about our own culture, the more secure we feel about it. And the more secure we feel about who we and the country are, the more we will understand and tolerate the culture of others coming in, and we can get rid of racism and the rest of it."

England "is not so bad", says Colin Irwin, as a final summing up of his quest. And he's not wrong. Whether he believes his search for Albion has been a successful one, however, isn't really made clear and whether he really understands why England "is not so bad" is another question entirely.

John Serpico