Two weeks at number one from w/e 13th November 1982
Initially I was tempted to bundle this number one and Robert Wyatt’s “Shipbuilding” together in one entry. The double-whammy effect of two back-to-back number ones on the same political topic feels like the kind of thing which could only have happened in the indie chart – short of World War III, it’s hard to imagine the official national charts ever replicating the same phenomenon.
It also tells us something about how high feelings were running in British society at that point; whether people wanted the considered, empathetic jazz-pop of “Shipbuilding” or the downright savage “How Does It Feel…” or (more likely) neither, The Falklands War was a topic it was obviously difficult to look away from.
If “Shipbuilding” is an aerial view of a conflicted town populated with people struggling to see over the barrier of their own personal struggles towards a bigger societal tragedy, “How Does It Feel” is just visceral blame. Crass may have begun to fall out with the second wave punks who dominated the scene at this point, but lyrically speaking, they were the closest to the original punk spirit of 76 – while the likes of The Exploited fell back on simplistic chants and slogans and the odd cuss word, Crass damn near scream an entire diatribe on the Falklands conflict over the course of a mere three minutes, and even find time for some sloganeering in the dying few seconds.
“So keen to play your bloody part, so impatient that your war be fought/ Iron Lady with your stone heart so eager that the lesson be taught/ That you inflicted, you determined, you created, you ordered/ It was your decision to have those young boys slaughtered” – this is a world apart from the taut, staccato, monosyllabic machine-gun attack of most eighties punk. It has so much to say that the song itself feels as if it can barely contain the anger; each line is elasticated close to a snapping point before the release comes, followed by the next swollen, unyielding attack. Then the next.
If there’s a moment here where Crass feel like every other punk band of the early eighties era, it’s probably around the chorus. That’s when the drums punch, the vocals get guttural, and the group take apparent glee in the chief slogan, perhaps hoping that it will stir the tabloid press to respond. What’s interesting is how quickly the song then collapses away from that chorus and descends into mania. Unlike “Shipbuilding”, it’s not clever as such – though the lyrics do stand alone perfectly well as a form of ranting poetry, which couldn’t be said of any other track in the indie charts at this point – and nor is it tuneful, but its design and precision are hard and sharp. It sets out to wound, and while it’s doubtful Margaret Thatcher considered their views, there isn’t a single line that leans back from the attack. Every single one is a tiny bullet, a distinct and aggrieved opinion.
The distance between this and the kind of fag-end punk dross that’s littered the indie charts over the last year is obvious. The senile tail end of any subgenre generally tends to consist of groups who have enthusiastically bounded into the room only to immediately forget what they went there for – you can hear this in the worst of glam rock in 1975, the collapse of disco, and even the lad-friendly meat-and-potatoes rock of 1996 Britpop. All were filled with chancers who only remembered the basic tricks of their trade, devolving rather than evolving.
With punk, a lot of bands seemed to believe that only the anger mattered in the end, however quickly or clumsily expressed. Crass absolutely overflowed with anger, but everything that surrounded their work, from the sleeve art, the jolting handbrake turns and the awkward riffs in the songs and the lyrics, was a careful but furious part of the process. No wonder they despaired of their travelling companions at this point; whatever you think of their output, it really felt as if they were one of the only punk groups left whose antagonism was carefully considered for effect and also somehow felt raw as hell too.
If they claimed that punk was dead, it was almost certainly due to general disillusionment than any idea that it couldn’t remain a valid vehicle for this kind of protest. “How Does It Feel” proves it still had potency, and still feels sharp and almost frightening to this day.
New Entries Elsewhere In The Chart
Week One
16. The Adicts – Chinese Takeaway (Razor)
Punk obviously can be facile too, and The Adicts tribute to the most underrated of takeaway cuisine is as deliberately dumb as it gets; the sound of one man celebrating the fact that he’s just ordered an Aromatic Crispy Duck and pancakes to go. The strum and Duane Eddy-esque twang of this puts it fairly close to old fashioned rock and roll, although being so gleeful about take-out food feels more like the preserve of Tommy Steele much more than any of the major fifties stars. Even Bill Haley wouldn’t have got into a froth about the contents of a flimsy plastic food bag (at least not on record).
“Chinese Takeaway” peaked at number 9.
“Chinese Takeaway” peaked at number 9.
17. Chelsea – Stand Out (Step Forward)
Chelsea may have been punk’s great triers, issuing ten singles prior to this which failed to break the mainstream charts, but “Stand Out” is their final cry before taking an extremely long break. It has a football terrace chorus and tries its hardest to rally the troops, but the hoarse vocals somehow manage to sound exhausted rather than aggressive. Their next 7” single wouldn’t arrive until 1985.
20. The Icicle Works – Nirvana (Troll Kitchen)
Ian MacNabb has been an even more persistent feature of leftfield music over the last forty years, although his preference has always been to lean towards classic rock rather than punk or leftfield experimentation. This isn’t to say that “Nirvana” isn’t without post-punk touches – those drums clearly favour the direction of Martin Hannett rather than George Martin – but the rest is pure paisley.
It’s extraordinarily well-studied, though, meaning that if “Nirvana” had found its way on to a sixties obscurities compilation, it would have commanded immediate attention as a highlight.
21. Darkness & Jive – “Hooked On You” (Red Rhino)
Wallsend’s Darkness & Jive managed a few fleeting singles in the eighties before disappearing again. “Hooked On You” is a prime example of an indie group with limited budget and means trying to write pop; it’s a blissful bit of romantic whimsy which constantly oscillates between dark and twee, but never quite sounds like either a cult classic or a hit single. And so it proved.
26. Cook Da Books – Rich Men Don’t Have A Lot Of Love (Kite)
27. King Kurt – Zulu Beat! (King Kurt)
Exotic rock and rollers King Kurt were hotly tipped for major stardom in the early eighties, a reputation which seems to have been largely based on their riotous live shows than any recorded output. “Zulu Beat!” is as daffy as The Damned at their most throwaway and as pounding as Adam & The Ants, but ultimately fails to make them sound like any more of a serious proposition than The Piranhas.
No matter – Stiff picked them up for the next single “Destination Zululand” and they ended up on Top of the Pops promoting a minor hit single. Sometimes the unthinkable happens very quickly.
Week Two
15. UK Subs – Shake Up The City (EP) (Abstract)
The title track “Self Destruct” is split almost impossibly in two – the bulk of it is the kind of thunderous racket The Exploited wouldn’t have been ashamed to put out, but it’s cut through with a clean, neat and orderly guitar solo that almost threatens to break away and mould itself on to the grooves of the nearest New Wave of British Heavy Metal single instead. Draw your own conclusions.
17. GBH – Give Me Fire (Clay)
No such fussiness is apparent here, which sees GBH scrambling over an assault course which is bit part second wave punk with a dash of Motorhead played at the wrong speed (too fast, amazingly enough). That it never ends up sounding like a complete mess is a major achievement, but one typical of the group.
28. Angelic Upstarts – Women In Disguise (Anagram)
Angelic Upstarts were always the biggest group to associate themselves with Oi – most of their contemporaries sat outside the National Top 100 failing to make any impression beyond their core audience, but the Upstarts managed two minor Top 40 hits on major labels.
“Women In Disguise” sees the group ironically becoming even more commercial while shipwrecked on the indie Anagram records, at this point in its infancy as a label. The chorus sees the group utilising chiming guitar lines and neat sixties harmonies while the rest of the track rants irritatedly about the lady Thatch. While all three new entries in week two of Crass’s stint at the top are from punk bands, it features a chorus Ian MacNabb wouldn’t have complained about and managed to sneak some political ire front and centre as well. Probably the most immediately enjoyable new entry of the period.
Chelsea may have been punk’s great triers, issuing ten singles prior to this which failed to break the mainstream charts, but “Stand Out” is their final cry before taking an extremely long break. It has a football terrace chorus and tries its hardest to rally the troops, but the hoarse vocals somehow manage to sound exhausted rather than aggressive. Their next 7” single wouldn’t arrive until 1985.
20. The Icicle Works – Nirvana (Troll Kitchen)
Ian MacNabb has been an even more persistent feature of leftfield music over the last forty years, although his preference has always been to lean towards classic rock rather than punk or leftfield experimentation. This isn’t to say that “Nirvana” isn’t without post-punk touches – those drums clearly favour the direction of Martin Hannett rather than George Martin – but the rest is pure paisley.
It’s extraordinarily well-studied, though, meaning that if “Nirvana” had found its way on to a sixties obscurities compilation, it would have commanded immediate attention as a highlight.
21. Darkness & Jive – “Hooked On You” (Red Rhino)
Wallsend’s Darkness & Jive managed a few fleeting singles in the eighties before disappearing again. “Hooked On You” is a prime example of an indie group with limited budget and means trying to write pop; it’s a blissful bit of romantic whimsy which constantly oscillates between dark and twee, but never quite sounds like either a cult classic or a hit single. And so it proved.
26. Cook Da Books – Rich Men Don’t Have A Lot Of Love (Kite)
27. King Kurt – Zulu Beat! (King Kurt)
Exotic rock and rollers King Kurt were hotly tipped for major stardom in the early eighties, a reputation which seems to have been largely based on their riotous live shows than any recorded output. “Zulu Beat!” is as daffy as The Damned at their most throwaway and as pounding as Adam & The Ants, but ultimately fails to make them sound like any more of a serious proposition than The Piranhas.
No matter – Stiff picked them up for the next single “Destination Zululand” and they ended up on Top of the Pops promoting a minor hit single. Sometimes the unthinkable happens very quickly.
Week Two
15. UK Subs – Shake Up The City (EP) (Abstract)
The title track “Self Destruct” is split almost impossibly in two – the bulk of it is the kind of thunderous racket The Exploited wouldn’t have been ashamed to put out, but it’s cut through with a clean, neat and orderly guitar solo that almost threatens to break away and mould itself on to the grooves of the nearest New Wave of British Heavy Metal single instead. Draw your own conclusions.
17. GBH – Give Me Fire (Clay)
No such fussiness is apparent here, which sees GBH scrambling over an assault course which is bit part second wave punk with a dash of Motorhead played at the wrong speed (too fast, amazingly enough). That it never ends up sounding like a complete mess is a major achievement, but one typical of the group.
28. Angelic Upstarts – Women In Disguise (Anagram)
Angelic Upstarts were always the biggest group to associate themselves with Oi – most of their contemporaries sat outside the National Top 100 failing to make any impression beyond their core audience, but the Upstarts managed two minor Top 40 hits on major labels.
“Women In Disguise” sees the group ironically becoming even more commercial while shipwrecked on the indie Anagram records, at this point in its infancy as a label. The chorus sees the group utilising chiming guitar lines and neat sixties harmonies while the rest of the track rants irritatedly about the lady Thatch. While all three new entries in week two of Crass’s stint at the top are from punk bands, it features a chorus Ian MacNabb wouldn’t have complained about and managed to sneak some political ire front and centre as well. Probably the most immediately enjoyable new entry of the period.
The complete charts can be found over on the UKMix Forum
Number One In The Official Charts
Eddy Grant: "I Don't Wanna Dance" (Ice)
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