
Two weeks at number one from w/e 31st March 1984
“You’re Already Dead” isn’t Crass’s final single – that would be “Ten Notes On A Summer’s Day”, released in 1986 – but it was the last one to be released while the group were a going concern. They entered 1984 in a state of disarray, burdened by heavy legal costs from the obscene publications court case around their album “Penis Envy”. They were also under the microscope of the tabloid press and the government thanks to their anti-Thatcher single “Mother of a Thousand Dead”, and their creation of a doctored recording faking a conversation between The Iron Lady and Reagan.
It’s impossible to speak on their behalf, but Crass were possibly beginning to feel the downsides of being a scratchy anarcho-collective living off their wits and little other external support. They may have operated successively away from the music business, taking matters into their own hands and surviving, but the more their reputation grew, the more interest they attracted from the mainstream media as well as the music press.
Music journalists in the eighties were, for all their critical savagery and their belief that they could make or break careers, pussycats compared to the tabloid press. They adored rebellion, and most were also niche publications, talking to an audience who understood their language, had sympathies with the idea of rock music being an agency for change, and generally didn’t get too upset about punk groups with hard-hitting viewpoints provided they weren’t fascistic.
Newspapers, on the other hand, were widely read, still thought of punk rock as being a possible threat to society, and loved the idea of singling out smart-arsed angry young men and women for a public flogging. That’s essentially where the Sex Pistols ended up in the late seventies, and in the case of Crass, typewriters in Fleet Street were beginning to become damaged by hacks bashing out feverish stories about these disgusting lawless vagabonds. In a flash of total absurdity, News Of The World were even moved to comment that the title of Crass’s album “Penis Envy” was “too obscene to print”. You hardly need me to highlight the stupidity, hypocrisy and irony in those four words.
It’s tempting to think that experienced warhorses such as Crass were able to roar with laughter, let these situations pass and even enjoy being provocateurs spreading their ideas to the broadest possible audience. I suspect, though, that they quickly found out that readers of tabloid newspapers are strangely unforgiving types, willing to apply pressure to the families of people featured in their stories as well as the individuals themselves. Penny Rimbaud commented in the liner notes for their compilation LP “Best Before 1984”:
“We found ourselves in a strange and frightening arena. We had wanted to make our views public, had wanted to share them with like minded people, but now those views were being analysed by those dark shadows who inhabited the corridors of power… We had gained a form of political power, found a voice, were being treated with a slightly awed respect, but was that really what we wanted? Was that what we had set out to achieve all those years ago?”
On top of that, the group were beginning to disagree with each other about some of their core political principles, including whether or not pacifism was a viable position. Pressure came from within and without, and the central supporting beam could not hold the weight.
“You’re Already Dead” almost seems like an audio souvenir of these contradictions and struggles. If The Jam had “Beat Surrender” as a farewell single where Weller set out his reasons for throwing in the towel – a very straightforward and principled address to The Kids – the very sound of YAD feels like a group falling into pieces in front of you in real time. It starts immediately with a cacophony of out-of-time musicians and screaming and swearing, before slowly finding its order and beginning properly as something akin to a sleepy, creepy anarcho-punk reading of the “Are You Being Served?” theme, as we’re told “Ask no questions, hear no lies/ And you'll be living in the comfort of a fool's paradise.”
The track then explodes, launching into the central slogan “If you're the passive observer, here's a message for you.../ You're already dead, You're already dead”, then later on “Four hundred thousand people marched for CND.../ They're already dead, They're already dead/ Unless they're willing to act on what they can see.../ They're already dead, They're already dead”. It’s difficult to emphasise how deeply contentious these statements were at the time – the sense that peaceful protest rather than direct action would always have the greatest leverage against the state was almost baked into a lot of eighties liberal political thinking.
Members of Crass had become heavily involved in the Central London “Stop The City” protests in 1983 and 1984, which were much less gentile in their approach and involved disruption and damage to businesses deemed antithetical to a progressive society. Police arrests were, predictably enough, numerous, and “You’re Already Dead” almost seems to act as a loud klaxon to the idea that disruption was riskier but more effective than passive gestures with placards.
Whatever your thoughts on their approach – and numerous critics and members of other political movements dismissed the group’s philosophies as incoherent and confused, so you wouldn’t be the first to pipe up with questions – “You’re Already Dead” is significant on another level here too. Crass by this point felt like one of the last significant musical acts who were using their independence as a weapon; unshackled from big business and operating as a co-operative, taking creative decisions without interference and making points which were being noticed by the establishment.
The other labels regularly visiting number one in the Indie Charts by this point usually had good intentions, but were essentially cottage industries who weren’t afraid to sign their acts to major labels abroad (including labels with connections to nuclear arms development, such as Thorn EMI) or seek out lucrative publishing deals if that kept their businesses afloat. Mute and Rough Trade were fair-minded but not anarchic. Factory Records sometimes appeared obsessed with design and aesthetics over profit, but Tony Wilson was to all intents and purposes an establishment figure, his label being the eighties equivalent of 19th Century Romantic era philanthropy, or a noble, gentlemanly folly.
Crass aren’t the last we’ll see of groups with co-operative set-ups on indie labels taunting the establishment or presenting a different ideal – for one thing, their own label would continue to release recordings by others for a few years yet – but this seems like the end of one clear set of possibilities for the independent sector. “You’re Already Dead” feels like a slogan which could be printed on to stickers and slapped anywhere. Indeed, if we felt that the existence of alternative, self-managed, collective and politicised ways of operating in the music business were all that mattered, we could possibly put it on the indie chart at this point and walk away, never to speak of it again*.
Members of Crass had become heavily involved in the Central London “Stop The City” protests in 1983 and 1984, which were much less gentile in their approach and involved disruption and damage to businesses deemed antithetical to a progressive society. Police arrests were, predictably enough, numerous, and “You’re Already Dead” almost seems to act as a loud klaxon to the idea that disruption was riskier but more effective than passive gestures with placards.
Whatever your thoughts on their approach – and numerous critics and members of other political movements dismissed the group’s philosophies as incoherent and confused, so you wouldn’t be the first to pipe up with questions – “You’re Already Dead” is significant on another level here too. Crass by this point felt like one of the last significant musical acts who were using their independence as a weapon; unshackled from big business and operating as a co-operative, taking creative decisions without interference and making points which were being noticed by the establishment.
The other labels regularly visiting number one in the Indie Charts by this point usually had good intentions, but were essentially cottage industries who weren’t afraid to sign their acts to major labels abroad (including labels with connections to nuclear arms development, such as Thorn EMI) or seek out lucrative publishing deals if that kept their businesses afloat. Mute and Rough Trade were fair-minded but not anarchic. Factory Records sometimes appeared obsessed with design and aesthetics over profit, but Tony Wilson was to all intents and purposes an establishment figure, his label being the eighties equivalent of 19th Century Romantic era philanthropy, or a noble, gentlemanly folly.
Crass aren’t the last we’ll see of groups with co-operative set-ups on indie labels taunting the establishment or presenting a different ideal – for one thing, their own label would continue to release recordings by others for a few years yet – but this seems like the end of one clear set of possibilities for the independent sector. “You’re Already Dead” feels like a slogan which could be printed on to stickers and slapped anywhere. Indeed, if we felt that the existence of alternative, self-managed, collective and politicised ways of operating in the music business were all that mattered, we could possibly put it on the indie chart at this point and walk away, never to speak of it again*.
(* I know somebody is going to argue in favour of at least one highly successful group with similar methods and ideas, but I disagree that their intentions or motivations were the same - let's save that argument for some time in the future).
18. The Milkshakes – Brand New Cadillac (Big Beat)
Peak position: 18
Billy Childish’s debut record on the indie chart starts as he means to continue, nodding back to both garage rock and old school rock and roll as the answers to all of life’s problems. While other punk groups picked up, dusted down and repurposed these old toys – not least The Clash, who covered “Brand New Cadillac” themselves – Childish’s approach went one further, demanding that loyalty to the original sound was essential.
This single sounds as if it could have been released in 1963, with no concessions to anything that had happened since. Whether you think that’s a good thing or a bad thing depends entirely on your ideas about rock and roll, but Childish is a man who feels The Beatles best records are their Hamburg live recordings, so you’re up against a forceful and contrary individual for whom rock’s loss of rawness felt like its ultimate undoing.
24. The Cramps – I Ain’t Nuthin’ But A Gorehound (New Rose)
Peak position: 2
Talking of unvarnished rock and roll, here’s a rough and ready live single from the Psychobilly kings. The Duane Eddy twang of “Gorehound” is coupled with vocals which at times lean slightly towards the Legendary Stardust Cowboy and a tip-tapping metronomic minimalism which feels quaint by 1984 standards.
30. One Way System – Visions of Angels (EP) (Anagram)
Peak position: 21
Week Two
13. Colourbox – Say You (4AD)
Peak position: 8
Colourbox began to lean more heavily on their dub and reggae influences as the years passed, and “Say You” is a cover of the U-Roy track from 1976. Whereas his original was simple and spacey, Colourbox can’t resist dropping endless instruments down the cavernous dub well. There’s a slickness and tricksiness to this which will may appeal to listeners more, or alternatively have them huffing about leaving a good thing alone.
25. Lack Of Knowledge – Grey (Crass)
Peak position: 25
While a lot of the releases on Crass’s label took their cues from the group’s furious and unpredictable takes on punk, there were a few that slipped out which bore little relation. Edmonton group Lack of Knowledge are a prime example – while they formed in 1978, this was the first release they managed to get put out by others, and its clearly straight-ahead Joy Division influenced post-punk.
Their approach is inventive, though, never sticking to the same lead-footed groove that so many post-punk acts of the era did, and having an edge of menace to their work.
28. Folk Devils – Hank Turns Blue (Folk)
Peak position: 7
Well here’s a thing – a band managed by Ray Gange of The Clash’s “Rude Boy” film; he whose haircut seemed to change from frame to frame.
He wasn’t the only semi-celebrity in the ranks here, as the band also featured Ian Lowery of The Wall on lead vocals. Legend has it that “Hank Turns Blue” was recorded after all the group pooled their week’s dole money and spent it on recording studio time, and it’s fast, snappy, shuffling rock and roll which references the heroin addiction of a fallen star. There’s something quintessentially mid-80s about it, with the group clinging on to a punk attitude while sounding enough like a frantic rock and roll boogie ensemble who might accidentally have been booked on to Whistle Test in 1975 – such were the contradictions of this strange era.
30. APB – Danceability (Albion)
Peak position: 30
For the complete charts, please go to the UKMix Forums.
New Entries elsewhere in the chart
18. The Milkshakes – Brand New Cadillac (Big Beat)
Peak position: 18
Billy Childish’s debut record on the indie chart starts as he means to continue, nodding back to both garage rock and old school rock and roll as the answers to all of life’s problems. While other punk groups picked up, dusted down and repurposed these old toys – not least The Clash, who covered “Brand New Cadillac” themselves – Childish’s approach went one further, demanding that loyalty to the original sound was essential.
This single sounds as if it could have been released in 1963, with no concessions to anything that had happened since. Whether you think that’s a good thing or a bad thing depends entirely on your ideas about rock and roll, but Childish is a man who feels The Beatles best records are their Hamburg live recordings, so you’re up against a forceful and contrary individual for whom rock’s loss of rawness felt like its ultimate undoing.
24. The Cramps – I Ain’t Nuthin’ But A Gorehound (New Rose)
Peak position: 2
Talking of unvarnished rock and roll, here’s a rough and ready live single from the Psychobilly kings. The Duane Eddy twang of “Gorehound” is coupled with vocals which at times lean slightly towards the Legendary Stardust Cowboy and a tip-tapping metronomic minimalism which feels quaint by 1984 standards.
30. One Way System – Visions of Angels (EP) (Anagram)
Peak position: 21
Week Two
13. Colourbox – Say You (4AD)
Peak position: 8
Colourbox began to lean more heavily on their dub and reggae influences as the years passed, and “Say You” is a cover of the U-Roy track from 1976. Whereas his original was simple and spacey, Colourbox can’t resist dropping endless instruments down the cavernous dub well. There’s a slickness and tricksiness to this which will may appeal to listeners more, or alternatively have them huffing about leaving a good thing alone.
25. Lack Of Knowledge – Grey (Crass)
Peak position: 25
While a lot of the releases on Crass’s label took their cues from the group’s furious and unpredictable takes on punk, there were a few that slipped out which bore little relation. Edmonton group Lack of Knowledge are a prime example – while they formed in 1978, this was the first release they managed to get put out by others, and its clearly straight-ahead Joy Division influenced post-punk.
Their approach is inventive, though, never sticking to the same lead-footed groove that so many post-punk acts of the era did, and having an edge of menace to their work.
28. Folk Devils – Hank Turns Blue (Folk)
Peak position: 7
Well here’s a thing – a band managed by Ray Gange of The Clash’s “Rude Boy” film; he whose haircut seemed to change from frame to frame.
He wasn’t the only semi-celebrity in the ranks here, as the band also featured Ian Lowery of The Wall on lead vocals. Legend has it that “Hank Turns Blue” was recorded after all the group pooled their week’s dole money and spent it on recording studio time, and it’s fast, snappy, shuffling rock and roll which references the heroin addiction of a fallen star. There’s something quintessentially mid-80s about it, with the group clinging on to a punk attitude while sounding enough like a frantic rock and roll boogie ensemble who might accidentally have been booked on to Whistle Test in 1975 – such were the contradictions of this strange era.
30. APB – Danceability (Albion)
Peak position: 30
For the complete charts, please go to the UKMix Forums.
Number One In The Official Charts
Lionel Richie: "Hello" (Motown)
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