Punk Movements

This week I’ve been watching Selma and Pride, and reading Viv Albertine’s Clothes, Music, Boys.

“Punk rock is just another word for freedom.”
– Patti Smith

Given we’re currently in the throes of an election campaign, there’s never been a better time to watch Selma: dealing as it does with the vote, and how far you would go to secure it. In 1870 the 15^th amendment in the United States Constitution stipulated that colour would no longer be a barrier to vote. Black men were free to use their constitutional right. With female enfranchisement following in 1920, black African-Americans had finally achieved democratic parity with their white ‘superiors.’ However what was enshrined in history wasn’t realised in reality. 

Essentially, the American Constitution was not worth the paper it was written on. Racist legislators gazumped black men and women by introducing a poll tax, a levy that took voting from being a right to being a commodity; a commodity that blacks couldn't afford. Along with this, literacy tests were introduced to stop the uneducated from voting. With few having accessed education it was made impossible to pass. Without the vote, white politicians felt no need to write black concerns, black hopes and black dreams into their manifestos. Equality was a lie. No vote meant no say. 

Fast-forward to 1965. 
Selma, Alabama is under the jurisdiction of Governor George Wallace, a bloodthirsty racist with an IQ problem. In this man Martin Luther King sees an opportunity. 

In Albany two years prior, King had led a campaign to get black people voting; he lost. Given his tactical acumen, this came as a surprise. You see, King was not just a master orator in the classical tradition; he was a media manipulator in the modern one too. He knew if his ideology of non-violent protest was met with violence then the people of America would rise up against injustice. Albany's Chief of Police, Laurie Pritchett never took the bait though, arresting black protestors calmly and orderly. King had been out-manoeuvred. Pritchett had taught him a valuable lesson. Thankfully, Wallace wasn't watching.

King arrives in Selma then, hoping to goad Wallace into a reaction. He plans to march his movement from Selma across Edmund Pettus Bridge to Montgomery and claim the vote. Wallace, the angry troll, has no interest in letting them pass. The game of chess that ensues between them is truly mesmerising. This is in no small thanks to David Oyelowo, who in playing Martin Luther King perfectly captures the rhythm, cadence and intensity of those famous speeches. The Oscar Academy's failure to recognise his performance remains a travesty. I urge you not to make the same mistake.

Pride was a film I re-watched with my mum this week. I have to say it was my favourite film of 2014. Its ideas of community, solidarity and hope really spoke to me. The backdrop is the 1984 miners' strike, an industrial dispute over pit closures between the Tory Government and the National Union of Miners. Having read David Peace’s brilliant, 1984, I knew how cataclysmic the event was. A victory for the miners would mean embarrassment for the political classes – this could not happen. As the miners withdrew their labour, Thatcher’s government increased theirs, sending huge police numbers to suppress strikes and deliver victory to the government.

This is the context for Pride then. Although in the story of miners versus government, there was another significant faction: lesbians and gays.

The 1980’s was not a good time to be gay. With ignorance over AIDS, homosexuality wasn't seen as a sub-culture, it was seen as a threat. Fear over catching the ‘gay virus’ was epidemic in Britain. For gays though, the ire of homophobia proved equally frightening. Vilified by government, attacked by the press and abused by the police, they saw miners as kindred spirits. This led to a group of lesbians and gays coming out in support for striking families. News of this fundraising reaches the remote Welsh village, which creates friction as some of the locals aren't happy about where the money has come from - nor are they thrilled about plans to invite the group to personally thank them. This coming together of dyed-in-the-wool heterosexuals and dyed-in-the-hair homosexuals is the catalyst for this brilliant comedy.

Watching the sides go from suspicion to trust shows how possible diversity can be. The fact that this is shown with such sleight of hand is a credit to scriptwriter Stephen Beresford, who manages to make a film about class and sexual prejudice without sounding preachy. It really is a wonderful film, very much in the tradition of Billy Elliot and The Full Monty, but instead of enlightening you about one issue it informs you on two.

I now must talk about Viv Albertine’s book. I first remember hearing about it on The Culture Shows: Girls Will Be Girls. The programme documented the role women played in the 70’s punk movement, focusing on Chrissie Hynde, X-Ray Spex and The Slits. I was vaguely familiar with The Slits as I was once given a mix-tape with their cover of ‘I Heard It Through The Grapevine.’ What I didn’t know was how hard girls had to fight to have their voices heard in a genre of music designed to promote self-expression.

Albertine’s book is a must-read for anyone interested in punk (she was friends with Sid Vicious, dated Mick Jones of The Clash and regularly frequented the Kings Road shop, ‘Sex’- the fashion playground of Vivienne Westwood). Forget her connections though, Albertine is punk in her own right. Drugged on records from a young age, Albertine’s musical addiction took her from being unable to play an instrument at 18 to playing John Peel’s show at 19. The autobiography is sentimental about music but unsentimental about life, documenting the biological, verbal and physical abuses she went through to be a musician and mother. 

In experiencing these films and books, I'm reminded that punk didn't die in 1977; it endures in anyone who fights to be free.