A film worth watching if you have an hour is Alexander Oey's 2006 documentary, There is No Authority But Yourself, a quick introduction to seminal Punk band Crass. It is a simple film constructed mostly of interviews with lead singer Steve Ignorant and drummer Penny Rimbaud who putters around Dial House pulling weeds and cooking dinner. Oey doesn't go much into the background of Rimbaud and Gee Vaucher as art student Hippies, focusing instead on Steve Ignorant's working-class background and his inspiration to embrace Punk after seeing a performance of The Clash one night after work.
When I was an undergraduate, Crass was a huge presence -- its stenciled black-and-white DIY aesthetic was everywhere. Their anarchistic "The system is fucked!" ethos ruled the roost in early 1980s Berkeley. Crass was the gold standard.
Two quick takeaways from There is No Authority But Yourself:
Steve Ignorant commenting that it was possible to live without money in the 1970s, something he believes impossible in today's world.
Penny Rimbaud saying that he believes Beatniks, Hippies and Punks are all the same.
Eventually I am going to get to a Hippies vs. Punks post on Crass. But the band is so essential to understanding Hippies vs. Punks, I have been putting the post off until I feel like I can do it justice.
Finishing up the work week, continuing my Push the Sky Away early-morning immersion, here's "Higgs Boson Blues:
And since it's Friday and tonight will be another Hippies vs. Punks post, I want to mention how important Crass is to understanding the Hippies vs. Punks dynamic. Last year I began reading George Berger's The Story of Crass (2006) but had to set it down. I got far enough to learn that founding member Penny Rimbaud, as well as others, were once Hippies involved in the experimental music scene.
For a shot of love to begin your Friday, here's "Sucks," one of my favorites, from the first Crass release, The Feeding of the 5000 (1978):
Do you really believe in Buddha? Buddha sucks.
Do you really believe in Jesus? Jesus fucks.
Is it alright really? Is it alright really?
Is it working?
Do you really believe in Marx? Marx fucks.
Do you really believe in Thatcher? Maggie sucks.
Is it alright really? Is it alright really?
Is it working?
Do you really believe in the system? Well o.k.
I BELIEVE IN ANARCHY IN THE U.K.
Is it alright really? Is it alright really?
Is it working?
Suffering from a mysterious backache at work today I took refuge in The Feeding of the 5000 (Second Sitting), the first Crass release from 1978, an EP, that was reissued in LP form in 1980.
The news, as Reuters is reporting, that the Obama administration, based on assessment that the Assad government used poison gas, is going forward with military support for the Syrian opposition made for a gloomy afternoon.
Mark the date. This is the end of any hope for the Democrats.
Culturally now we have bantustans. It wasn't always this way. Anything out of the mainstream from the middle 1960's until the late 1970's was called "Hippie." Today we call The Stooges and the MC5proto-Punk bands. But back in 1969 and 1970 when they put out their first couple of albums they were considered by the overwhelming majority of Nixonian America to be nothing but a bunch of dirty, long-haired Hippies. Freaks.
Proto-Punk bands queer the pitch of Hippies vs. Punks. Earlier we briefly raised the possibility that rather than exterminating the Hippies, the Punks were Hippies who cut their hair and their guitar solos (Crass, who we will consider at length on a future Friday evening, for instance). There is no better example of an Uber-Hippie band being a Punk progenitor than the MC5. (Sonic Youth is partly named after MC5 co-founder and guitarist Fred "Sonic" Smith -- Patti Smith's deceased husband.)
The MC5 were radical, the gold standard of radical Leftists. John Sinclair, co-founder of the White Panther Party, was their guru for a spell. The White Panther manifesto is worth quoting here:
Total assault on the culture by any means necessary, including rock and roll, dope, and fucking in the streets.
Free exchange of energy and materials—we demand the end of money!
Free food, clothes, housing, dope, music, bodies, medical care—everything free for every body!
Free access to information media—free the technology from the greed creeps!
Free time & space for all humans—dissolve all unnatural boundaries!
Free all schools and all structures from corporate rule—turn the buildings over to the people at once!
Free all prisoners everywhere—they are our comrades!
Free all soldiers at once—no more conscripted armies!
Free the people from their phony "leaders"—everyone must be a leader—freedom means free every one! All Power to the People!
When I entered public school in 1970 I was in the first grade. My parents, who were liberal Democrats but not radical and certainly not Marxist, let me grow my hair long; it was past my ears but not quite down to my shoulders. Like every other seven-year-old kid I didn't like to get my hair cut and hated to have my shoes tied. When I got to Charles Wright Elementary I quickly figured out that I was the only kid there with long hair. Most other boys had military-style crew cuts. I was an outlier; subsequently, I fought constantly. The black kids in particular, sensing that I was not like the other white kids -- that I was vulnerable; that I was a reviled longhair -- liked to fight me; and what was unsavory about it was that compared to the crew-cut white yahoos they generally knew how to punch, and when they hit they hit hard.
This was the romantic life of a Hippie kid. Fighting. For the most part I enjoyed myself. I learned a few reliable moves, my favorite of which was the headlock (it ended things quickly and I didn't have to hit anyone).
What I was going through reflected the polarity of the culture nationally. It was a big -- much more blue-collar and homogeneous than today -- and violent country. Assassinations and riots were regular features of the political landscape. To be a Hippie in this environment was not to be a devotee of peace and love; it was more like being a Punk in a slam dance.
Keep that in mind when you look at this clip of MC5 performing "Kick Out the Jams." These were Hippies who kicked ass:
