Below is the talk I gave for the Art Of Punk symposium on 25th Nov at Northampton University
Leeds Town Hall, packed with pupils from across all
Yorkshire to attend the GSCE poetry live event, featuring some of the greatest
poets the establishment deems worth of being on the English syllabus. Towards the end of the day, a rake-thin
figure makes his way onto stage, hair a frothy mess, eyes hidden behind deep
black shades. He holds up a glass of
water and bemoans in a thick Salford accent:
“I wanted a whiskey, but they gave me a water. Why would you want to drink something fish
screw in”. The assemblance of pupils is
amused, perhaps bemused. He proceeds to
read I Married A Monster From Outer Space.
He is, of course, John Cooper Clarke and in the audience is a young Henry
Raby, on a day out from Oakland Secondary School for a taste of live poetry.
I grew up in an era dominated by American pop-punk, the
Blink-182s, the Offspring and Green Day.
These bands never appealed to me, it was only when I was 16 and bought a
copy of Never Mind The Bollocks from a car boot sale did I find a joy for punk
rock music.
I come from a theatre background, arguably the most punk
rock theatre sector: The Youth Theatre
sector. And in the amphitheatre of the
Big Youth Theatre Festival, surrounded by other young people from across the UK
I rambled out my first poem which began with the phrase ‘I’m A Post-Nietzsche
Creature’, a direct reference to Cooper Clarke’s line in Post-War Glamour
Girls.
From then on, I identified as a ‘punk poet’ by virtue of the
fact I liked punk, and I did poetry.
Thanks:
BUT WAIT
1. Does punk poetry
come influenced by the dominant music we associate with that term?
2. Does the virtue of
being a punk make your poetry automatically punk, can a punk write non-punk
poetry?
3. What are the
literary qualities of the genre, in other words, what the fuck is Punk Poetry?
I upset a fellow in my friends’s band, by saying his other
band were not punk, or to be specific, not folk-punk. They played folk, acoustic rock, bluesy
music, but it wasn’t folk. It was DIY
(which we’ll get to later) but it was not punk.
Maybe punk-y.
I’m going to start by saying punk is not a music genre, but
it is a genre.
Punk is defined by three things:
Anti-authority, to the point of questioning the world
Anti-commodity, to the point of being DIY
Ugly.
The 1960s were about free love, progression, liberation and
freedom. Peace, man.
So punk celebrated the death of this redundant idea, this
fakeness, this lie.
I wanna destroy passer-by, I wanna be sedated, hate &
war, I am a poser, love will tear us apart etc.
Now, that’s fine for punk rock music to play with this
disgusting behaviour, but poetry is something different. Poetry is meant to be beautiful,
And punk poetry acts acts came in a wave. The Medway Poets, Mark Mi Murduz and John
Cooper Clarke and Seething Wells and Porky The Poet. You could catch stand-up comics, and ranters
and jugglers and theatre-makers amongst the bands.
So how do we define punk poetry?
Let’s look at anti-authority:
God Save The Queen, She Ain’t No Human Being.
Punk certainly has a healthy distrust for power structures,
which is why with a few examples, it usually hovers towards the anarchist wing
of politics. Even the punx (with an x)
who enjoy a good few cans of cider and listen to The Casualties with a handy
pot of glue hate the authority that would stop them getting smashed, even if by
their own admission “politics is bullshit, fucks communists blah blah blah”. They just wanna do what they wanna do.
And punk poetry is the same that it defines the structures
of publishing.
Let’s look at examples of punk poetry from the 1970s and
80s. Joolz Denby,
Bradford-born-and-based poet always found it difficult to get published, or
rather publishers found it difficult to deal with her and her frankness. Attila the Stockbroker regularly rails
against the intuitions of bankers, bosses and businesses. And fascists.
A committed Marxist. His poetry
has always been taking power.
Of course, this politicised life has not been without
threat, Joolz talks about being attacked for the way she dressed and acted by
men disgusted by her individualism, and Attila about being targeted by the far
right.
More modern punk poets include Pete The Temp, who has
dedicated his life to supporting squatting activism, and more recently
occupations. Pete comes across as a
gentle soul but has been dedicated to rethinking and reclaiming space in an
increasingly gentrified London. Jenn
Hart is committed to supporting feminist causes, putting on feminist gigs and
acts and writing intense poetry about modern women’s issues.
Here are three chords, now start a band
Punk rock and DIY are not synonymous, but they are often on
the same bill DIY. Metal, Goth, Hip-Hop,
cosplay, computer gaming, comic book publishing all have these elements of DIY
I define DIY as making art using whatever materials you have
to hand in the most low-fi manner, which can also mean cheapest, way possible
to reject capitalist and commodification of that framework. Very different to entrepeunirliamism, which
uses materials to hand but for the end result to actually make money and work
within a capitalist framework.
Some bands and promoters come to DIY by necessity, with the
lack of support from mainstream promoters or structures, but others choose the
DIY life in order to reject a world of money-making.
Punk poetry often employs this form of DIY through the
publishing of zines, current zine Paper & Ink and excellent example by
Martin Appleby down in Brighton or Zach Roddis who made his own cassettes and
poetry books. Poetry zines can be traced
to riot grrrl scenes linked to person zines (perzines). No one else with publish your work due to
your gender, sexuality, race or content of the work (or at least, without
editing) so stay the master of your work.
So punk poetry isn’t waiting for publishers to respond,
waiting for those deals to come to you.
It’s neither about waiting for gigs, it’s making them happen
yourself. It’s putting on poetry gigs in
pubs and small spaces. We’re putting on
Harry Baker in a Church next week.
Rethinking space is increasingly harder, but also increasingly more
necessary.
But wait Henry. This
all sounds very familiar.
Political poetry that challenging structures and hierarchies
is not unusual. Look at Adrian Mitchell
in the decade before. Certainly poets
from Black communities, like Linton Kwesi Johnson and Benjamin Zepahniah have
always been critical of racist institutions.
Modern black poets, like Inua Ellams and Vanessa Kisuule also tell their
own stories. Jess Green went viral for
her attack on Gove, Hollie McNish’s mathematics was a nice summery of the
problems with racism, Kate Tempest has been looking at the underside of
society, Sophia Walker and Jackie Hagan have told their stories of being queer.
Poets regularly make their own zines and booklets, regularly
make event happen on a shoestring.
Kirsten Luckins from Apples & Snakes talks about the ecology of
spoken word, like it’s a nature reserve and we artists are the wildlife.
So it’s not just punk poets challenging mainstream thoughts
and right-wing politics.
It’s not just punk poets being DIY, either.
So maybe there’s something in the ugliness.
(note ugly =/= not sexy.
Punk can be very sexy, and ugly, at the same time)
Ugly. Messy. Weird.
Raw. Flawed. Homely. Home.
From the sound effects of vomit on Chumawbawamba tracks, skinheads
tattooing their faces to Poly Styrene shaving off her hair and the
gobbing. Lemmy’s looks, the mud the
Slits caked themselves in, Joe Strummer’s missing teeth, Johnny Rotten’s
Richard III crawl. Even the word has a
root meaning in being worthless. Make my
day, punk.
In commedia del arte, we see the figure of the harlequin,
the trickster, who is allowed to get away with mischief. This character exists today in the gender-blurring
lines of the Panto Dame.
Look at Rick Mayall’s character of Rik, and his stand-up
where he faffs, sneers and gushes from his greasy face. He’s parodying a punk poet, he’s subverting
subversion.
I would argue punk poetry’s recurring theme is a sense of
the ugly, the bizarre, the strange, the dirty.
Whether that’s in the form and the verse, or the topic.
Punk is everywhere under the surface. It’s in the poetry gigs in pubs and in the
politics and in the publishing. We built
that network, and we kept it alive, we united with other genres and scenes.
But punk is when you get sweaty, when your voice is hoarse,
when you’re nodding vigorously. When you
feel alive.
So that’s why I’m trying to do nowadays. Bring the poets to perform at the punk gigs,
bring the punk energy to the poetry gigs.
Which is why I run slams. I want
to drag the punk element into spoken word and make it vibrant and noisy and
messy. Similarly, I always try and get a
poet to Say Some Words before punk bands to get them out of the comfort zone,
introduce new audiences to poetry and also up the ante for the context of
poetry.
And that is the role of punks in poetry and punk
poetry. To be the subversive voice
inside existing scenes, to keep playing, agitating and twisting. Being ugly.
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