Council Estate of Mind

"Talkin' about the science of social deprivation ..." And SkinnyMan has quite a bit to say on the subject on his classic Council Estate of Mind. Specifically he talks about his Finsbury Park home and generally he's talking up for the 'poor lower working class'. SkinnyMan is a fascinating figure. Another veteran of the UK hip hop scene, active since the year dot, part of the Mud Family with Chester P of the Task Force, appeared on Countryman by Skitz as part of the next wave but never got the breaks. He is in many ways the missing link between music hall coster singer Gus Elen and dancehall legend Yellowman. Part shrewd observer and part cartoon caricature. His sleevenotes for his sole LP are a spot-on summary of the traps and obstacles facing the poor on council estates. He then follows this with a string of expletives as though he's been rumbled and wants to throw up a smokescreen. Something suitably Shakespearean in that ...

The Junkyard

"Broke for three days. Late Giro again. New Deal. Low pay. Big ball and chain ..." Task Force's The Junkyard appeared on Countryman by Skitz back in 2000 on 23 Skidoo's Ronin label. It's a chilling account of life on the Highbury Estate, N5. Inner city deprivation and the vicious circles of poverty from which there seems no escape. The Brothers McBain, or Chester P and Farma G, that make up Task Force, along with DJ Louis Slipperz and other cohorts, are stalwarts of the UK hip hop underground but full of contradictions. They are steeped in hip hop culture, but within that context they're not at all what you would expect. They are heroes to many, but not broadsheet-friendly. Now could that be because there's no novelty angle? They avoid pigeon-holing and defy stereotypes. They are defiantly or necessarily independent, and have released a string of self-produced sets in the Music From The Corner series, as well as solo works and various collaborations. If as a casual observer you think you know UK hip hop then think again. Nothing's clear cut, so don't accept other people's prejudices. As they say in their track Letter To God ..."Never felt god on these cold streets of London. But felt man's wrath in the upper class judgements ..."

Chapel Market

"On the couch was this girl from Hamburg. Black mascara like you've never seen. Edie Sedgwick's evil twin ..." Animals That Swim's Chapel Market contains snapshots of life in and around a squat opposite the market. Sounds almost knowledgeable that doesn't it? Actually there is a very useful web page giving an A-Z of locations relating to Animals That Swim songs. So I know for instance Holloway Aviator was inspired by some wording on a headstone in Highgate Cemetery, though goodness knows what the words were. I have already confessed I missed ATS at the time, and certainly never knew of the 50 Dresses EP when it came out in 1993. At that time if you'd mentioned Chapel Market and music I would've thought of the great Andrew Weatherall and Sabres of Paradise's Haunted Dancehall. That's a record steeped in London references, though without words. Perhaps one day there will be a dub version of this site? Oddly enough I chanced upon an excellent radio show the other day where Weatherall was giving a bit of a guide to his London ...

Emptily Through Holloway

"When I met you at The Coronet this morning you said that your happiness had gone ..." The Clientele's Emptily Through Holloway is one of those beautiful aches of a song where you find yourself straining to catch whispered words, perhaps mishearing but that's irrelevant. I rate it up there with Felt's The World Is As Soft As Lace. It's a cinematic sweep of a song in its way, which is apt as The Coronet on the Holloway Road opened as the Savoy Cinema in February 1940 in all its Art Deco-ish glory, and was one of the few cinemas to be opened as planned in the early days of WW2. In my version of the Emptily Through Holloway script a couple meet in the last days of an affair in the cinema, holding hands one more time where no one can see their tears. They leave the cinema separately, and don't see each other until the war is over. All very Graham Greene, I confess. This was the first Clientele song that really stayed with me, and actually it makes me think of happy endings so perhaps we should add one to our script. Talking about films it's difficult to distance the Holloway Road from the Joe Meek story, so here's David John & The Mood with Bring It To Jerome ...

Stavordale Road, N5

Wet wallpaper, curry stained mattresses, mashed potato, music papers, tube trains, Stork margarine, British council houses, Golden Virginia, same old discos, the greasy chip shop on the Holloway Road, Capital Radio ... these are among the things mentioned in The Nips' Stavordale Road, N5. The song refers to the group's formative days when Shane, Shanne and associates were living in a musty bedsit Drayton Park way. The song reminds me of one of my favourite Shane quotes, from the April '79 edition of Zigzag where he says: "When I was excited in the punk days, I wrote about being bored. Now that I am bored I write about being excited. It's a rock 'n' roll fantasy." 30 odd years on and the Holloway rock 'n' roll fantasy lives on ...

Beyond the son

"Got back the other day to find the pub on the corner had been burnt down. A dark London street story I won't burden you with now ... Yup, I know they're casting their lots to see who can get the old pub's lease and turn it into more luxury flats. Brick by brick infiltration has begun ..." Rob Gallagher is one of the heroes of this project, having already appeared in his Galliano and Earl Zinger guises. Here, on Koop's Beyond The Son, he reads aloud a letter he's sending an old friend, giving all the news from back home. He mentions, in passing, seeing a mutual friend's dad carrying a bag of potatoes on his shoulders on the Holloway Road. It's a beautiful track, but I have to confess I was completely out of the Koop loop until a fellow member of the resistance chez Dusty 7s put me right, which is a little odd as among the other Koop collaborators is Yukimi Nagano, who with Little Dragon has created some of the most uplifting music of recent times. Oh well ... "the drunkards still own the park". Even in summer ...

Royal Northern

"Royal Northern. North seven ..." While that may not be the most well-known of chorus chants from the height of the punk explosion, Demon Preacher's debut single Royal Northern was nevertheless the embodiment of the era's spirit of get up and go. The group's debut performance was in a church hall on the Holloway Road, and the show was attended by sundry Sex Pistols. So it seems only appropriate the group's debut release, on its own Illegal Pressings label, in 1978 would feature a song about the Royal Northern Hospital, similarly on the Holloway Road, and stories circulating at the time about porters assisting with operations. The hospital is long gone, and so many of London's hospitals have flats on the site, but Demon Preacher is better known now thanks to sites like Punk77 which have featured the group and Chuck Warner's invaluable Messthetics series which features Royal Northern on its volume #107 which covers the DIY activity in London between '78 and '81. The whole series is incredibly important for providing an insight into what was going on musically at that time and proving there was no one defining sound - just a mess, that was occasionally glorious. This third round-up is a real gem. I thought I knew the era and area pretty well, but there are all sorts of dots joined-up here, and facts which are a delight to learn about. There is a lot of focus on Dave Henderson and the Dining Out story. I had no idea, for example, he was in the Disco Zombies with Andy Ross. I had no idea about Martha Tilson's activities pre-A Certain Ratio, either. It puts a totally different slant on the ACR story, and justifies long-held beliefs that her contributions to the ACR legend are incredibly important. Film from that time is still mesmerising. Demon Preacher itself is of particular interest to some punk archivists because it was led by Nik Wade who would go on to form Alien Sex Fiend. I don't think any of his later songs were postcode related. And if you're not sure about the north London postcodes ...

Highgate Cemetery

"Come and be buried with me, up in Highgate Cemetery ..." Roy Harper's Highgate Cemetery is a suitably spooky number. I am sure I remember reading somewhere it was inspired by a couple of nights Roy and some mates spent there, having sneaked in to explore the overgrown sections where the weeds and tangled vines hid the tombs, catacombs, sepulchres and statues. Not my idea of fun, but each to their own. Didn't Morrissey and Devoto have a bit of a thing for days out in cemeteries with their cheese and pickle sandwiches? Highgate is one of the more striking examples, and I do like the idea that it's home to Karl Marx and Max Wall. Highgate Cemetery, the song, appeared on Roy's second LP, Come Out Fighting Ghengis Smith, from 1967. It featured a couple of other London songs too, in Freak Street and Ageing Raver. The previous year's Sophisticated Beggar debut had appeared on the London independent Strike, and was produced by one of my heroes Pierre Tubbs. Among the many things Pierre has given us is Right Back Where We Started From by Maxine Nightingale, a north London girl herself. Pierre's co-writer on that was J. Vincent Edwards, a great singer himself ...

Waterlow

"Blue broken tears hide away the years. The misty highway seems colder today. And I saw Waterlow where the evergreen grows. And the wise man knows why he cries ...." I always liked the fact that The Clash were always defiantly fans of Mott The Hoople. I like to think of a young Mick Jones practising daily in his room, strumming an acoustic along to the beautiful Waterlow, from Mott's early Wildlife set. It's such a lovely sad song, and it's easy to imagine Ian Hunter wandering around the park lost in his lonesomeness. It's a 'pulling your overcoat tighter around you' sort of song ... whatever the weather.

Willesden to Cricklewood

"From Willesden to Cricklewood, I tell you the town looked good. Walking lonely avenues. Where rhinestone cowboys find the blues. There's people in doing their thing. Gettin' all the mozzarella in. And the passing time and phasing moons. Words flying in cloudy rooms. Plastic bags, milk and eggs. The poor old crone's got aching legs. How I would love to speak to everybody on the street. Just for once to break the rules. I know it would be so cool ..." Joe Strummer says the lagers are on him in Willesden to Cricklewood, so let's drink a toast. Ah Joe. I always liked the slow dances best of all. Now, funnily enough, Willesden has a fine railway tradition, and there's still a depot there, where perhaps the Class 47 loco named in honour of Joe has been stabled. Cricklewood has been the focus of a number of songs, the best of which is most well-known as performed by the great Christy Moore, though I understand it was written by John B. Keane ... To Joe, Christy, and the rebel spirit!