After 50 years punk’s not dead – from punk to pensioners
It cannot be remotely correct that the original punk rockers are now reaching for their pension books and enjoy the benefits of free travel for the over 60s.
Much like the teddy boys of the 1950s, punk was a defining moment in time - one that jarred, shocked, and raised a gleeful, sneering two fingers to the establishment.
It all began 50 years ago in 1976 when the Sex Pistols shook the poor old Beeb to the core with ‘Anarchy In The UK’ and The Clash started to make waves in the music press - building the foundations for the full-on explosion in ‘77.
It was raw, angry, and bristled with an energy that made many of the established bands of the time appear like tired old fogeys. In truth, many were. Hair was as long as some of the awful guitar and keyboard solos on those double and triple concept albums…
The ‘70s were also the decade when novelty records became smash hits, from Lieutenant Pigeon’s Mould Old Dough to The Wurzles’ Combine Harvester, and we bought them in huge number. What on earth were we thinking?
I was 12 going on 13 and living in the Calders in Sighthill, and going to Wester Hailes Education Centre when this thrilling, scary new sound was unleashed.
My mate Stevie became one of the estate’s very first punks. He left WHEC dressed normally on the Friday, and returned in full Sid Snott mode - bondage straps, tartan breeks, Doc Marten’s, and assorted safety pins dangling from anywhere he could pierce.
I was never a punk - I wouldn’t have been allowed out the house dressed like that - but there was something captivating about the whole scene. My crossover moment came when I swapped ELO’s Out Of The Blue double album, which I had on blue vinyl, for a 12-inch copy of Ronnie Biggs doing A Punk Prayer, with Sid Vicious on the B-side grinding Sinatra’s My Way to little more than broken glass.
The Exploited were our local heroes, with the unmistakable figure of Big John a familiar sight as he cut through our playground, and Top of The Pops introduced us to a raft of bands, from The Stranglers to The Ramones, The Buzzcocks and The Damned
The very first punk band I saw play live were The Rezillos. They actually played our school gala day as a time when they were appearing on Top Of The Pops, with Somebody’s Gonna Get Their Had Kicked In Tonight.
This was music that spoke directly to one generation - and appalled another, exactly how it should be.
Sharing the same Spotify playlist should be viewed as a parenting failure, and don’t get me started on the cross-generations who now treat gigs as shared experiences. Let kids go see their own favourite bands - not yours. The very thought of taking my dad to see Whitesnake or Motorhead in 1981 never even crossed my mind, any more than my folks thought I’d enjoy an evening listening to Cliff Richard or Pat Boone.
Punk’s energy was hugely infectious. I was a heavy rock fan but still found myself drawn into the early music of guys like Elvis Costello and Ian Dury and the Blockheads. Never did get into The Clash though.
Fifty years on you’ll see, and hear, punk celebrated at the Windsor Hotel with regular gigs. Long may they make a heck of a racket.
It is fantastic to see that original energy drive the genre on and give subsequent generations a taste of the ‘70s. Punk’s not dead!