Year Zero

Friday, 2 May 2008

Amongst the many fascinating things I’ve learnt from Tom Ewing’s Popular project, in which every UK number one single since the inauguration of the charts in 1952 is being reviewed and commented on with frequent digressions, is that there’s a substantial body of people who believe that civilisation, or at least popular music, didn’t exist before 4 June 1976 when the Sex Pistols performed a supposedly seminal git in Manchester.

Hmm. If that’s the case then I wonder what it was I used to hunker down under the eiderdown to listen to on a crackly and wayward Radio Luxembourg?

Anyway, we’ve reached the summer of ’76 and JJ Barrie’s No Charge; a single of such banal awfulness that discussion has swerved right away from it to a raging battle around the the origins of punk, and therefore in some eyes the birth of the known universe at the instigation of a skilled self-publicist with an interest in flogging bondage gear. I’m sure many of my readers will find this and the whole subject fascinating!


At last!

Friday, 2 May 2008

Fish 'n' chips on the beach

For the first time this year the conditions were right. Real warmth in the sun, the slightest of breezes, sea calm, air clear (babooshka, if you’re reading this, did you see me waving?).

Time to go get my haddock and chips from Andy’s, walk up to the beach, sit on the pebbles, eat them from the paper with my fingers, and watch the sun on the Irish Sea.


Time to go

Friday, 2 May 2008

After yesterday’s election results it’s time to think seriously about emigrating.

The country has taken on a virulently anti-intellectual tone. Well, Britain always was an anti-intellectual kind of place – witness the sneering of its academic establishment at the new philosophical thinking of the 1970s that it couldn’t understand, remember the Colin McCabe Affair? – but it’s getting worse again, as it did in the 1980s. Everything that’s crass about the country can be traced back to the 1980s and now it looks likely to happen again under the new rising star, a vacuous, braying, public school yahoo whose mummy and daddy could afford buy him patronage.

I’m looking for somewhere that appreciates the intellect. Any suggestions?