I discovered punk and
poetry around the same time. John Cooper
Clarke’s scattergun verse is where the Venn diagram intersects. But I soon
discovered a scene of performance poetry beyond the Bard of Salford, and punk
music beyond the 1970s.
Mid-2000s I went to local
gigs to see local bands. And touring
bands like Random Hand and Sonic Boom Six became my favourite bands. And the more I wrote poems, the more the poetry
scene became a poetry community with nights, hubs and friendly pals in cities
across the UK. In 2015 me and Bridget
Hart toured the UK to poetry and punk venues, in 2018 my theatre company toured
our show about punk to theatre venues and DIY spaces. Seems JCC isn’t the only place where the Venn
diagram intersects.
I’ve done a few gigs with
punk bands, and when I used to put on music gigs I’d always get a poet to do a
set. Punk’s not always been about just
guitars. 80s gigs used to feature cabaret
acts, comedians, story-tellers and all kinds of spoken word artists such as
Joolz Deby, Attila The Stockbroker, Porky The Poet (aka Phil Jupitus) and Craig
Charles.
Manchester Punk Festival
are doing some really exciting and diverse work. Their festival is a passion project from a
consortium of gig promoters who showcase not just shouty punk, but
international bands, folk-punk, ska, indie-punk and queer and female
representation, and spaces for films, podcasts and ethical food. I like how they re-think how you manage a
large-scale festival, how you approach that structure in a DIY, non-profit
driven pro-inclusive model. They have
defined a brand which feels professional, but also DIY and inclusive. Last year they started a Comedy Stage, so I
approached them to see whether they would be interested in running a Poetry
Stage.
So after what seemed an
eternity of plotting and planning and play-list-making, my line-up for the
three days was born. Something I really
noticed at MPF over the weekend were bands really appreciating people coming to
support them. I guess normally punk
bands play in the small venues, so pooling everyone together can feel an epic
gig. Kermes played a gloriously sweaty
fun set, Whoanows were charmingly fresh, Nervus celebratory, Cherym a fistful
of fury, Martha stormed through banger-after-banger-after-banger Perkie was
intimate and soulful to name but a few.
And it got me thinking
about punk and punk poetry. Poets often
play to smaller crowds, and often present more personal and individual
work. Bridget Hart’s Saturday set was a
loveletter to the people in her life.
Martin Appleby told little stories and insights of the scene. Suky Goodfellow directly interacted with her
audience in a Choose Your Own Adventure-style poetry set. Cynthia Rodriguez took the mic out into the
space for her anti-borders banter. Kit
Rayne showed a slice of her tattooed nerdy queer heart. Simon Widdop juggled stories of home. Genevieve Walsh was in her natural environment
of back-room pub pal-packed poetry. People
hopped up for the open mic.
And I? I was the first person to perform at Manchester
Punk Festival in slippers. Because if I
can’t have comfy feet, it’s not my revolution.
Punk tried to tear down
that barrier between audience and performer.
No rock star pomp, we are you, you are us, get a guitar, make a zine,
write a poem and join in.
We want that connection
with the performer and audience.
The last act I saw at the
festival was Perkie. She played a song
called Werewolves which I’d never heard before.
She said it was about this punk community. I had a little cry.
Punk should be more than
just music; it’s a culture, which includes Comedy and Poetry (and film
too!). I’m glad that poetry could be
part of the DNA of the Festival. Up The
Poetry Punks!
