This bird has flown.

I used to ride my bike out and about the sallow streets of Scunthorpe. People to see, places to be – busy busy busy me. There was a sense of freedom in having a set of wheels that could propel you from A to B (then down to Zee). I never progressed to a moped – or a Honda 50cc – it was pedal power. I would cycle out to Normanby Hall up and over that steeltown to pastures new and fresh. Escape the town. Searching for some tranquillity, well some privacy. And when you are young and run free [keep your teeth nice and clean] you feel alright.

You feel that anything just might be possible.

And I’ve been thinking about this green and pleasant land somewhat. England’s dream an all that. Those flashes of countryside and the urge to go running through fields and meadows – all bowlheaded youth and innocence.

You know when I look at this town – brings me right down.

Which brings me to Kes.Most things eventually arrive at that film’s door. It’s why I do what I do I guess.

I can’t exactly pinpoint when I saw this film. I feel I lived it. It felt incredibly alive to me. That opening sequence of shadow and silence – as bags filled with newspapers are shipped round streets by children on bikes and worn out shoes. I used to post the papers. I used to post the letters. Solitary jobs with banal chit chat in between.

I’ve spent my life doing that.

And I mean the chit chat is banal whilst at work. It’s hard to get to know a person when you wear the suit and carry the clipboard. Well ipad these days – we’re all hyperlinked now maaaan.

But back to the film with the bird in.

It’s a film that seeps beneath the skin. All extinguished hope and brutality. And this is where the score is so important. I am fan of the sound in film. The need to guide and explain through timbre and tone. I like its absence and its abundance in the frame – it helps a film if you can feel it to. John Cameron’s pastoral shadings grounded in the blown and plucked instrumentation of a quintet ready to conjure up hope and cheer whilst ultimately pegged to the melancholic and solitary, is both haunting and exhilarating. I wanna be free – free as a bird. This combination of simple instrumentation that documents the countryside and floats on air whilst tethered to that fragile state on land makes my heart bleed.

As I get older – and believe me it seems to becoming thick and fast – swift and sharp I return to that beautiful film and wonderful score. Emma bought it for me. A simple CD of soaring tunes. Untethered in Jarvis Cocker’s words as John Cameron composes and conducts this five piece to flight. English composers need sharing. We don’t share enough of this. This music is not about winning competitions. This is cold houses and bingo callers, booze in pubs and fights and chips. It is not a fairytale. It is music to soundtrack the humdrum – the inevitable - yet it asks us to want that little bit more.

It is socialist in sound – egalitarian in spirit.

I caught a moment of Downton or some other serialised shit that only has the working class as servants. There are no other depictions of them – of us these days. Unless you count the horrorshow of public aping and baiting from Jeremy Kyle to Britain’s got Talent. You see Hines had a care – Loach had this film made. They want us to have a voice even if we fucking choke it ourselves. There’s nothing wrong in being eduated you know. Nothing wrong about that. It gives you some choice – not a great deal – but something better.

There is thought in every moment of this film.

This is not a soundtrack of the time. It resonates now. Thought given to frame and direction as Cameron scores this tragedy from beginning to end. They used a clip from the film in the Olympics they didn’t use Cameron’s score. Missed opportunity – and I thought Cocker was involved.

Having children and being so close to those pit villages when I was younger and swaddled in this industrial life reminds me that choices might have changed for the youth but the class system still fucking grinds you down. And Cameron’s music serves to remind us that we deserve better. There’s nothing wrong in escape – of wanting some beauty in your life. Casper wasn’t looking to tear down this existence – he wasn’t a poster boy for Thatcherism – Casper sought his beauty in nature – in the opposite of the filth – he was still full of fury though.

We’re all full of fury at times. Little fury things.

There’s no real point discussing the film here. You either know it or you don’t. Suffice to say that it’s in most things that I do – the humour, the politics and the style. I once taught a Film Studies class who bought me a signed poster by the cast, Hines and Loach as a leaving present. It wasn’t ironic – they loved Kes too. I want it shown on the BBC on a monthly basis – so it gets stumbled upon by the unassuming. Either that or it goes head to head with the X Factor.

The bird wins every time.

I want my children to have some opportunities. I want them to be able to listen to music like this. I want them to do what they want. I will not let them have their wings clipped.

John Cameron re-wrote Whole Lotta Love too – the TOTP theme tune. That was different from this. But you know there’s a few sides to everyone.

This is from Kes. Listen.

How Channel Four did not change the world

Channel Four tried to be innovative and cutting edge this bank holiday weekend, offering up an eight hour spectacle of ‘house’ music and telling us how the whole thing had changed the world and then having six deejays play one hour sets [without advertisements – radical, I know] with ‘twisted visuals’ and a ‘clown’ shouting out shit and sexist remarks in between as deejays changed places, swapped position and sounds.  Whilst I wanted to admire the broadcaster’s spirit  - it all felt very flat. Well perhaps not completely flat – but there was a documentary before the DJ sets presented by ‘an actor, deejay and clubber’ that was lamentable in every sense. Another countdown of the arbitrary 40 ‘pivotal’ moments that typify and extend our understanding of how ‘clubbing’ changed the world. It ended with ecstasy. When that was where it should have started.

It was out of sync and out of place.

When you have a detailed, analytical [in places] and well researched book in ‘Altered States – The Story of Ecstasy Culture and Acid House’ by Matthew Collin – it would seem a logical starting point to make a ‘documentary’ about the social and psychological impact of the 303 and 808 on our mindset, play and morals using that as a reference guide. But instead we got the usual fair – the talking heads and random sequences taking in Chicago and New York cityscapes, queues for Studio 54, a touch of travellers, swaying masses, The Hacienda, da police and The Sun, strobe lights, lasers and smiley faces. Yeah, just like I remember it. Okay – I didn’t watch it all – but I think I could fill in the gaps between number 37 up to number 5 – it was hardly rocket science was it? I guess my only thrill came from seeing DJ Pierre turn on the actually 303 used on Acid Trax and let it bubble and squelch in what seemed to be a record store – but was more likely his own collection in his house.

Funny that the documentary was the actual product of how ‘clubbing’ changed the world, a shortened attention span and lack of depth, anecdotal musings, devoid of politics and meta-narrative and pretty much vacant. Also this substitute of the word ‘clubbing’ as opposed to ‘House’ or ‘Rave’ or ‘dance’ – you know people where fairly wild before Atalantic Ocean released Waterfall [ironic ] I do believe my mum and dad went to clubs – they danced to Elvis and Eddie Cochran. The masses frightening the establishment –oooh scary maaan. Commodification and consolidation – take it under your wing my friend and exploit it for all it’s worth. Make a documentary about it and reduce it’s edge – package it up – put a logo on it [I don’t know – something ‘ministry’ like – sort of official] and sell it back for late nights in lounges and car rides, or nostalgia trips and fancy dress [School Disco – anyone?]

That’s what pop music is. It is a package of this and that – sold to us all.

It does what we want when we want it to. As Adorno said all those years ago popular music exists to fulfill the needs of the ‘emotional listener’ quickly – a hit for the moment.  This standardization of popular music means that we have already pre-accepted it even before we have heard it. Our ears are trained to hear the music in a standard form whether it is pop, rock, dance, drum and bass or death metal, we already have an expectation of the music, it is ‘pre-digested’ through the structure of the songs. Thatcher must have rubbed her hands together as we ‘put our hands together’ as the music which radiated defiance and difference was slowly reigned in and accepted. Rendering it redundant.

I was wondering round Hirst’s exhibition this week – with the kids – they wanted to see the shark and it was the same there. Empty, devoid of comment and all about the money. That should have been number one – in the C4 doc – how ‘clubbing’ changed the world – it made a lot of people rich at the expense of camaraderie and equality we all thought we were having in the queues and on dance floors as we embraced and gurned our way through the night and emerged ever ready to right the wrongs through euphoric songs and repetitive beats.

I remember when suddenly you weren’t welcome in clubs – you know ‘promoters’ wanted you to ‘dress up’ - pay twenty pound for a ticket – because ‘house music’ was only for a certain swathe of the masses. These ‘strictly’ sounds were strictly for certain kinds. Clubbing changed the world by ghettoizing the sounds and shutting the doors. By subsuming the boredom and frustrations of 1980s Britain it did the Tories a favour – it took us all off the streets and made us sleep through the day.

Now don’t get me wrong. [or do – it doesn’t really matter]

I don’t want all my music challenging but I do want to be challenged. I’m only here once. I want to think. And ‘house music’ can make you think – it can ‘open up’ the mind [body and soul] Through hearing those manipulated beats and synthesized sounds in Orbital, Black Dog, Luke Slater, Beaumant Hannett, Mark Broom, Carl Craig, Derrick May, Juan Atkins, Marshall Jefferson, Todd Terry – you understand – the list goes on and on and on – brought me to ‘musique’ concrete, Cage, Glass, Ligetti, Satie and Stockhausen. To Can, Neu!, Tangerine Dream and Eno and  other musical forms beyond the four on the floor. It made me listen to news reports about space, developments in science and technology. It made me question post modernism and the rethink Marx. It politicized and spoke with understanding.

It changed the world a little bit.