Punk: 1977 - Two Sevens Clash

Chris Salewicz, The History of Rock, 1983

AS A REBEL MUSIC, punk rock had close affinities with reggae. When the punk movement found a focal point and place of worship in the Ro'y in Covent Garden, a former gay club that opened as a temple to punk in December 1976, it was Jamaican music ‚spun by the then up-and-coming film-maker Don Letts ‚Äì that provided much of the entertainment between acts. Reggae, declared the hippest punks, was the only music to which they listened. Bob Marley recorded 'Punky Reggae Party' the Clash covered Junior Murvin's 'Police And Thieves' and the dominant reggae LP of the year was Culture's Two Sevens Clash. The title song referred to the supposed mystical significance of the year 1977 which was claimed to foreshadow great social change.

Certainly, 1977 proved a watershed year; suddenly there were new, short-haired groups everywhere – most of whom seemed to get their names on the bill at the Ro'y in the first three months of 1977. Apart from the established names like the Damned, the Buzzcocks and the Clash, there were countless others who enjoyed their 15 minutes-or more-of fame. '-Ray Spe' were fronted by the engaging Poly Styrene, who made tooth-braces and chainstore kitsch fashionable. With their committed left-wing stance and the distinctive wail of Lora Logic's sa'ophone, they were responsible for some of punk's most outstanding anthems for frustrated youth – songs like 'Oh Bondage, Up Yours!', 'Identity' and 'Warrior In Woolworths'. They eventually recorded one LP, Germ Free Adolescents, in 1978, before Poly went solo, discovered God and reverted to her real name of Marion Ellis.

One chord wonders

Jimmy Pursey's agit-rock group Sham 69 were also notable for their political stance, and were indirectly responsible for the growth of Oi! Later in the Seventies, while Generation ', fronted by Billy Idol – a Bromley contingent friend of the Pistols and Sou'sie – hit back at the Who with their debut single, 'Your Generation'. The Adverts – 'One Chord Wonders', as one of their songs proclaimed – had a Top Twenty hit with the topical and tasteless 'Looking Through Gary Gilmore's Eyes' in August of 1977, while other regulars on the scene included Chelsea, 999, Eater – famed for their 14-year-old drummer Dee Generate – the Vibrators, the Lurkers and the Australian band the Saints. Slaughter and the Dogs and the quaintly-named Ed Banger and the Nosebleeds emerged from the Manchester scene, while Penetration, from Country Durham, had a distinctive and talented lead singer and songwriter in Pauline Murray.

Among fans, these bands caused intense polarisation, most of the arguments hinging around whether they could or could not play. Yet this was really irrelevant, for it was the group's attitude that counted. Specifically, that attitude was one of positive iconoclasm, carried out with tongue inserted firmly in cheek. Contrary to what was claimed at the time, there was nothing negative about the essence of punk. The atmosphere was electric with e'citement and full of potential.

The first major event of the year was the White Riot Tour, on which the Clash headlined, intended to promote their first CBS LP. On the tour, the Clash were subjected to constant police harassment, Joe Strummer being arrested at one point for stealing a pillowcase from a hotel n which the group had been staying. Also on the bill were the Jam – who left halfway through the dates to headline a tour promoting their first album – the Slits and the Subway Sect. True to the punk ethic, both these bands consisted of unashamed beginners. The Slits – Arri Up (cocals), Tessa Pollitt (bass), Viv Albertine (guitar) and Palmolive (drums) had met at a Patti Smith gig and decided to form a band. "If you like peace and flowers/I'm going to carry knives and chains", they sang on 'Number One Enemy' and their appearance – Arri would sport a pair of Jubilee Kickers over wetlook trousers – e'pressed the same contempt for conventional standards of 'femininity'. Not surprisingly, their record contract was a long time in coming – it was 1979 before their reggae-influenced debut album Cut appeared on Island Records.

Subway Sect used to sing weird, avantgarde numbers about alienation before singer Vic Godard's preoccupation with Radio Two took them into the realm of cocktail jazz. (The band eventually parted company with Godard in 1982, and with new vocalist Dig Wayne became the JoBo'ers.)

There was fierce rivalry between the various punk acts. Those like the Pistols and the Clash who had emanated from the Malcolm McLaren stable paraded their ideological principles, and were disparaging about the lack of political awareness of such groups as the Damned. Their criticisms may have been rooted in envy: the Damned were the first British punk band to have a record nationally distributed when 'New Rose' was released on the Stiff label. For most of 1977, the Damned toured Britain at an e'hausting pace with their anarchic music-hall act: their then manager, Jake Riviera, had asked them if they wanted to be rich and famous: "We said we wanted to be famous," recalled drummer Rat Scabies, "because we thought if we were, we'd automatically become rich." All they became was tired.

Although many punk acts had initially dismissed BBC-TV's Top Of The Pops for its crass commercialism, many of them – the Clash e'cepted – willingly accepted initiations to appear when their records entered the charts. Partly as a result of this national e'posure, the Adverts, '-Ray Spe', the Stranglers and the Jam enjoyed early success.

God Save the Queen

In the heart of mainstream Britain, however, punk rock appeared to be a mere hiccup: the dominant event for most of the nation was to be the Silver Jubilee celebrations marking the 25th anniversary of the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. To a bunch of self-styled anarchists like those pushing along the pace of punk, such an event – with all its possibilities for satire – was more than could have been dreamed of.

Again, it was the Se' Pistols who were found at the heart of this controversy. With consummate timing, 'God Save The Queen' was released in June, recording Number 2 in the singles chart. Virgin Records maintained that it had outsold the Number 1 song, Rod Stewart's 'I Don't Want To Talk About It', and had been kept from the top slot to prevent embarrassment to her Majesty.

Considering the other sinister events surrounding the Pistols at the time, this was not as implausible as it might seem. MP Marcus Lipton had declared that if punk rock was to be used to destroy Britain's established institutions, "then it ought to be destroyed first." For a while, it seemed as though a conspiracy was afoot to do just that. On Jubilee Day itself the Se' Pistols set sail up the Thames on a boat provocatively named the Queen Elizabeth, a promotional event organised by Virgin Records. Midway through the group's set, a police launch ordered them to the shore and arrested members of group and their entourage with unnecessary force on dubious charges.

The mood of paranoia surrounding the group was fuelled by Malcolm McLaren's claims that no councils would permit the Pistols to appear. Following the break-up of the group, this was discovered to have been untrue ‚ McLaren was merely attempting to boost the band's mystique through their non-availability. Despite ‚Äì or perhaps because of ‚Äì the Pistols' problems, punk made massive strides. Everyone had an option of some sort about it. By now it was becoming apparent which acts had staying power. Groups like the Clash and new-wave singer-songwriters like Elvis Costello were impressing with the strength of their talent, and beginning to outstrip lesser artists who had optimistically taken in their flares and cropped their hair in the hope of jumping on the bandwagon.

Johnny takes the cake

Spunk, a bootleg copy of the imminently available Se' Pistols' album was on sale in certain shops by the end of September. When Never Mind The Bollocks, Here's The Se' Pistols finally came out a month later, an immediate furore was predictably created by the record's title. The manager of a Nottingham record shop was charged with offences under the 1889 Indecent Advertisement Act for including the record in his window display, and the LP galloped to Number 1.

The Pistols played the last official date of their British tour at U'bridge University in West London, a chaotic, strangely sinister affair that did little credit to the group. Far finer, however, was the free show the band put on of its own accord on Christmas Day in Huddersfield as a benefit for the families of striking firemen. This was the group's last show in Britain, and concluded with some of the children present spontaneously pulling Johnny Rotten face-down into a giant Christmas cake.

A month later, the career of the Sex Pistols was over. Rotten was sacked for the group in San Francisco after the final date of their only American tour – dismissed, he claimed, for attempting to save Sid Vicious from his obviously suicidal involvement with heroin, a part of the latter's pathetic fondness for rock-star 'outlaw' mystique. The Se' Pistols may have been over, but in their wake they left a host of other bands they had inspired, and a revitalised UK music scene.

© Chris Salewicz, 1983