Forget shoulder pads and Rick Astley – growing up in the 1980s was a riot of great music, fashion and subcultures, as new film This Is England shows. Here, director Shane Meadows recalls a youth of ska music, scrapping and a time when people ‘still cared’ about politics
Sat 21 Apr 2007 00.32 BSTFirst published on Sat 21 Apr 2007
It’s easy to laugh at the 1980s. Many people base their memories on the stuff they see in those I Love The 80s TV shows: massive VHS recorders, Atari consoles and rubbish digital watches, all shown against a backing of Now That’s What I Call Music Vol 2. Then there was the way that people dressed: your mum with a deranged perm, your dad in a pair of grey leather slip-ons and your sister with a “Frankie Says Relax” T-shirt and a stack of love bites round her neck.
But my memories have more meaning than that. As a kid growing up in Uttoxeter, Staffs, it was a time of great music, brilliant fashion and a vibrant youth culture that makes today’s kids look dull and unimaginative by comparison. It was also a time of massive unrest when British people were still prepared to fight for the stuff they believed in. My new film, This Is England, is about all of these things.
Set in 1983, this is the first period film I have made. A great deal of it is based on my own childhood and I tried to recreate my memoirs of being an 11-year-old kid trying to fit in. It was a time when Uttoxeter, like the rest of the country, was awash with endless different youth tribes. There were new romantics, heavy rockers, smoothies, punks, goths, skins and mod revivalists who were into the Specials and 2 Tone. Then there were those pop culture kids who came into school wearing one green sock, one pink sock and some deely boppers on their head. People often looked daft, but were genuinely committed to their chosen denomination and would wear their identities on their sleeves with immense pride. In a town as small as Uttoxeter, though, there weren’t enough people for each sub culture to fill their own parties or clubs, so most weekends everyone would turn up at the same village hall disco and end up fighting.
Like most 11-year-old kids who wore jumpers with animals on, I got bullied by the older kids at school. So I looked for my own tribe to join. It was the skinhead movement that enamoured me the most. I remember seeing 10 or 15 of them at the bus shelter on my way home from school one summer night and thinking they were the most fearsome thing I had ever seen. Even though I was terrified of them, I was instantly attracted to them. To be a part of most of the other factions you had to be a little rich kid. But to be a skinhead, all you needed was a pair of jeans, some work boots, a white shirt and a shaved head. You could be transformed from a twerp into a fearsome warrior in 15 minutes. Skins appealed to me because they were like soldiers: they wore their outfits like suits of armour and demanded respect. There were playground myths that surrounded them and especially their Dr Martens boots. It was feared that a single kick from a DM boot would kill you or at the very least give you brain damage. I can remember kids refusing to fight unless the skinhead agreed to remove his fearsome boots first.
My older sister was going out with a skinhead who took me under his wing and taught me about the roots of the whole culture. He was a nice bloke who bore no relation to the stereotypical racist yob that people now associate with that time. It was him that I based the character of Woody on in the film. I learned from him that skinheads had grown out of working class English lads working side by side with west Indians in factories and shipyards in the late-60s. The black lads would take the whites to blues parties where they were exposed to ska music for the first time. Soon, Jamaican artists like Desmond Dekker, the Upsetters and Toots And The Maytals were making a living out of songs aimed directly at English white kids. This was where the whole skinhead thing came from – it was inherently multicultural. But nowadays when I tell people that I used to be a skinhead, they think I’m saying I used to be racist. My film shows how rightwing politics started to creep into skinhead culture in the 1980s and change people’s perception of it. This was a time when there were three and a half million people unemployed and we were involved in a pointless war in the Falklands. When people are frustrated and disillusioned that’s when you get extremist groups moving in and trying to exploit the situation. That’s what the National Front did in the early-80s. Skinheads had always taken pride in being working class and English so they were easy targets for the NF who said that their identities were under threat. They cultivated a real hatred of the Asian community. In the film, Combo represents the sort of charismatic leader the NF used to turn skinheads into violent street enforcers. Suddenly, all skinheads were branded the same way. But most of the real old skins who were into the music and the clothes went on to be scooter boys to separate themselves from the racism. I always wanted This Is England to tell the truth about skinheads.
As I started to make the film, other themes started to interest me. We had a relatively small budget so we couldn’t afford to recreate every last detail of the Uttoxeter of 1983. Instead, I set the scene by using archive news footage at the start and end of the film. Going though footage of the Falklands war really made me think again about the whole thing. As kids, we thought it was like going into a World Cup campaign. It was exciting and we were cheering on our lads to go and do the Argies. But the scenes of soldiers’ coffins shocked and appalled me.
In many ways the country was a mess. The miners’ strike was massive – they were killing scabs by throwing paving slabs from bridges onto cars. You had all the protesters and unrest at Greenham Common. But remembering all of these things made me nostalgic for a time when people were ready to stand up and say something. People cared about where the country was going. As the 1980s ended we had the poll tax riots which turned out to be the end of an era. Afterwards, it was like the nation lost its backbone. People were bought off. They were given a little bit of land, the right to buy their council house and put a little satellite dish on the front of it. They became content and lost their will to rock the boat.
The big difference between now and the period in which my film is set is our level of isolation. In 1983, people still cared about society as a whole but now they’ll keep their mouth shut as long as they’ve got the house, the job and the car they want. If you were a kid in 1983, you wouldn’t have a PlayStation to sit indoors alone with. You got your entertainment from mixing with a variety of different people. While making the film, I realised that all of my fondest childhood memories surrounded human contact: mucking about with mates or going camping. In 2007, people put less emphasis on that sort of thing and more on planning their careers and their TV viewing. As far as I’m concerned, if you’re working from nine to five then coming home to watch shows that your Sky box has recorded for you while you were out, you might as well be on a fucking drip.
This Is England is a snapshot of an era and a life that seems very dated now. It’s about sticking up for mates and beliefs.
The gang
This Is England’s tight group of mates are stranded in a drab, east Midlands town in 1983. Devoted to sharp dressing, ska music and each other, the warmth and harmony of their gang is threatened by the arrival of Combo – an older skinhead with an angry, racist agenda.
Smell
The gang’s token Boy George-alike becomes the object of young Shaun’s affections. Kindly, she gives him his first kiss.
Lol
Firm but fair leader of the girl-skins and girlfriend of Woody. Also the subject of unwanted advances from the sociopathic Combo.
Shaun
An isolated 12-year-old whose dad has been killed in the Falklands War. His transformation into a skinhead offers him a whole new life of friendship, DMs and braces.
Milky
The gang’s only black member becomes a target of abuse as certain members start to embrace the National Front.
Woody
A warm hearted leader who nurtures Shaun into a fully-fledged skin. He splits from the gang when Combo shows.
Arrived in Brighton around 1.30 with my mate Steve Aller holding high expectations of what the weekend had in store. I was not to be disappointed as this years reunion was even better than the 2013 event. After checking in at the Adelaide hotel, we made our way to the Volks where we met up with many old mates, Dave Ryan and his son Sid, Dave Nash, Lisa Sumner, Lynda Scarpellini, Jo Barnett, Steve Parish, and many more. The vibe was good as we all sat around chatting outside in the sun whilst the music blasted out. First band on were ”Grade 2” who performed well above anything I had anticipated. This band made up of 3 lads all still at school showed a confidence well above their years. Sid the vocalist showing no nerves at all. I was straight on the dancefloor throwing myself about like a spider on acid. Loved every second of their set. Then it was back to the fresh air of Brighton to cool myself down. Saw a old flame from the past, [11 years to be exact!] Ana, and straight away we connected. The relationship blossomed over the w/e. Back to the bands and next on were Swedish Oi band ”Agent Bulldog” who had brought with them a large Swedish contingent. Although I could not understand the lyrics to their songs, I still enjoyed their set very much and had a jump around. Last band of the night were ”The Downsetters” who I had seen earlier in the year at Skamouth. The masses obviously enjoyed these lads as the dance floor filled. Their set included a combination of covers and their own material, which was very good. They even did a ska version of the Sex Pistols Pretty Vacant, which I was not sure about! By around 10ish the bands had finished. But for many the night was just beginning as the crowds headed for the next venue [which I cannot remember the name of!] After a short walk we arrived to hear old Trojan sounds blasting out, and so the dancing continued into the early hours. By around 1 o clock this old boy was done in, my bed was calling.
SATURDAY. Up early to hit the breakfast table, so after a shower and a squirt of Steves chanel deodorant, off we toddled. We eventually hit the Volks around 1ish on another scorching day. Gutted that I had missed Ken and Bobbi’s wedding do.Already the place was heaving with skinheads slowly getting pissed. As a non drinker it was J20s all the way, kinda funny seeing most getting pissed whilst I remained sober. The music is my alcohol! The Dr Martens photo booth was in big demand as many queued for a free photo. First band on today were ”Lineside” who I must apologise to for missing. I took a break from reunion activities for a walk along Brighton pier with the Latina Ana, where we got more reacquainted, and indulged in a ice cream. Back to the Volks just in time to catch Linesides last number. They actually sounded very good indeed. Next band up were the 2-Tones, who I thoroughly enjoyed from last years reunion. Again, they blew the roof off with the dance floor packed as they belted out cover after cover of our favourite ska/Trojan sounds. A hour or so later it was time for Saturdays headlining band ”The Feckin Ejits” a band I had not seen since the 1980’s. Really enjoyed this set as the crowd went mental to ”You gotta kick a picket or two”. Top marks Mr Sterling! Then at 10-30 it was off to the ?????? for more dancing. My poor feet were done in, the dms are certainly better than brogues for jumping about in. Again by 1ish I was cream crackered and pestered Steve to go back to the hotel. [He had the solitary key!]. And so endeth day 2.
SUNDAY Up early, due to my mate Steve singing Judge Dredd songs whilst I was trying to sleep. Down for brekky, then it was more sleep. Got to the Volks to find it still packed, regardless of many having headed home for work commitments. Only 2 bands tonight. ”Jack the Lad” with Gunk from Condemned 84 who did a complete set of Oi covers, and jolly good fun it was too! Once again I jumped about like a loony on day release. Finally it was the highlight of the w/e [not including meeting Ana again] the band I had really came to see ”The Last Resort”, having not seen them for a few years I was really psyched up. And what a energetic set it was. All the old favourites, mixed in with newer stuff like Never get a job, and the superb We are invincible. The floor was a mass of boots, muscle and sweat [with a couple of females amongst the nutters, well done Jo Barnett and Tash] . After 2 encores that was it, no more bands. But certainly not the end of the night as Ana and I strolled romantically along the beach with the lit up pier and big wheel in the background. Awww how nice. Still made it back to the volks for the last hour or so of music. The djs incidentally have been superb. Top marks to them all. Also the bar staff who were kept on their toes. Gotta say a massive thank you to everyone that made this w/e such a great event. It is what you make it to a point, but after all is said and done it would not be happening without Symond. Sod the haters. Roll on 2015s Reunion. Oi oi that’s yer lot Dave Webster. Could have wrote much more, but have left my personal details out. Ha ha.
Feckin Ejits Album. The first 100 people to order,and pay for their copy, can send their photo and have your image, a friends, old or new, put onto the sleeve. to be forever enshrined with the Feckin Ejits. Probably the greatest band of the 1980’s, that never made it to vinyl. (the pub got in the way of the giro) place your order now. Due for release by Subcultz in the Spring 2015, with a world tour in the offing. OTFH
There’s something going on. An emerging scene reacting to the overwhelming EDM rains that floods every single garage here without mercy – wiping out the kids trashy hang-outs where they desperately tries to ruin their lives. Garages are turned into silent aquariums. It is such a perfect clean-up. But hey, the aquarium is cracking up.
It’s explosive, dark, potent, and psyched out. And the main little monster fish here is the band MANKIND.
Currently whipping up the underground and warehouse parties in Stockholm with their runaway, throbbing and decadent show, Swedish MANKIND is getting attention.
MANKIND, four guys that could have been seeds planted at Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris, drawing strength from the graves of Jim Morrison, Chopin and Gertrud Stein.
Instead the plants grew in Ingmar Bergman’s land of held back silence – bonded by a mutual musical love and existential brooding.
The bands first track “Blood, Sugar” – not least apparent by the video (directed by Johan Stolpe) – is unmistakably Scandinavian with Fever Ray-ish aesthetics. It’s produced by Gordon Raphael (The Strokes, Regina Spektor). Although early recognized and loved by The Needle Drop, “Blood, Sugar” was never sent out in the world. So lo and behold, this is now corrected. Needle Drop:
MANKIND were brought up on music released long before they were born and in boroughs far from where they lived (the early 90’s Seattle scene, the Velvet’s New York, The Door’s California, London 60s…) and that’s exactly where they belong artistically. But in addition they also have their own DNA, a unique sound full of odd MANKIND figments, twisted song structures, lyrics that are clever, angry, darkly funny, upsetting and on-point and a world of imagery and ideas that we know will keep us busy and alert.
Band are Arthur Batsal (vocals), Oliver Boson (drum), Alexander Ceci (guitar), Fredrik Diffner (bass) – just over 20, lives in Stockholm, Sweden
I had been browsing through facebook and stumbled on a page, which mentioned a Skinhead Reunion. I had long forgotten my youth, the music and times had been tucked away into the broom cupboard of my mind, the fading photographs in a weathered cardboard box.
But I have always liked Brighton, a bit of 2tone on the radio always brings a smile, as I sit stuck in London traffic, a welcome interlude from the usual Simon Cowell Karaoke imposed on me.
As the train rumbled out of Gatwick on the home run to the south coast, my thoughts were taken by the ‘shish’ of an opened can and the unmistakable Belfast accent of two very smartly dressed skinheads.
I didn’t know tonic suits were still being made, but these guys looked a million dollars, the brogue shoes shined to a mirror. Chattering like a pair of excited school kids they noticed I was wearing a fred perry
with close cropped hair, which was my subtle way of getting involved, I guess the skinhead culture has never really left me, a Ben Sherman or pair of Levis has been a permanent part of my wardrobe since 1978
“Alrite mate Eamon, where you from” the first skinhead said as he stretched out his hand, passing me a fresh can of lager.
Until that point I wasn’t even sure if I would attend the skinhead reunion, I hadn’t been to anything in years, even I had been aware of the media version of skins, and wasn’t sure if that was true or not, I know we were the bad boys in the school playground, and there were a fare few crazies involved back in the day, but these two guys were like stand up comics. I real breath of fresh air. Call it a mid life crisis if you like, but I felt great, I don’t think I have ever been welcomed by two strangers so warmly in my life.
Hitting Brighton we made our way to the seafront, the sun was shining, the gulls screaming. The fresh air of the English channel immediately started to wash the stale polution of London from my lungs.
First stop was to be the Friday afternoon meeting point. The Modern World Gallery on Madeira Drive,the scene from Quadrophenia movie was replaying in my mind as we walked along, the noise of the pier
and streams of tourists soon was replaced by the sounds of Jamaican Ska blasting over the Street. I small crowd of well dressed skinheads were already milling about. As we approached they all turned to see us.
Instead of the old style stand off that skinheads always used in the old days, once again the smiles were immediate. Everyone introducing themselves and eachother, more beer was handed over and the party began.
I was amazed to see several good looking ladies with feathercuts, perfectly styled clothing, dancing in the street, the tourists watching on, unsure of what they were witnessing,
The Modern World Gallery stocks some great art pieces and mod memorabilia, original silver disks hanging on the walls. T shirts, some great Lambretta panel art pieces.
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