Chumbawamba Interview with back2front zine October 2006
Everyone likes to point the finger from time to time
but there’s one band that have probably been pointed at more than
most, maybe for good reason, maybe not. They first appeared on the Crass
compilation album “Bullshit Detector 2” back in 1982 and
emerged from their peacepunk roots into a militant anarchist band that
took the baton fromwhere Crass had left off. Initially they recorded
their own cassettes anddistributed them from their communal squat in
Armley before making
albums. They were called sell-out from the moment their first vinyl
album, the quite brilliant “Pictures of Starving Children Sells
Records”, hit the streets in 1986. Chumbawamba then began a long
and varied career using every sort of musical vehicle but always maintaining
an anarchist bent and a wicked sense of humour. Occasionally superb
and occasionally, in their own words, just plain crap the band signed
to the dreaded EMI in 1997, had a huge hit single and a multi-million
selling album “Tubthumper”. As the band had spent many years
condemning EMI for its one time involvement in arms manufacture they
were seen as hypocrites and sell outs by long term fans. At the time
singer Alice Nutter commented :
“We thought long and hard before we finally decided what to do,
and we’ll explain the reasoning behind our choices. Our
experiences over the last fifteen years have robbed us of the naive
view that there’s ‘good’ and ‘bad’ capitalism.
We learnt the hard way that 'indie' isn't shorthand for integrity -
it's become a style guideline rather than (how we originally perceived
it) a shortening of the word Independent". As a band we've tried
releasing records in various ways : we started our own record label,
Agit-Prop, but found that we had to choose between being a boss label
and a band. We were OK at the creative end of running a label but we
were crap at the business side and lost a lot of money helping bands
put out records which didn't sell very well. During that time we used
an independent distributor; mad as it seems now we told them that as
anarchists we wanted to work on trust rather than from contracts. It
took us a while to learn that 'trust' is another word for 'sucker' in
the music industry - basically, we got ripped off more by our own naivety
than by the industry. We signed to One Little Indian, our last label
- thinking that we'd found a label that we had things in common with.
We'd known Derek Birkett (OLI's boss) since his days in the band, Flux
of Pink Indians, and we assumed that the label had other objectives
as well as profit. We knew the label would only keep us as long as we
sold enough records, but that seemed like a fair deal. In the end, though,
the label became preoccupied with its financial problems; and as we
were one of the few bands who didn't lose them tons of money in £200,000
videos and ultra expensive promotional failures, OLI were keen for us
to stay safe, don't try anything new, and release an annual imitation
of "Anarchy" to, keep the float topped up. (Which we weren't
prepared to do). The final straw was a sudden interest in taking away
Chumbawamba's artistic control. ("Go away and write some stronger
songs..."). We told OLI that we wanted to leave in December 1996.
When we started looking round for another company we realised that we
no longer made a distinction between 'major' and 'indie'. We knew labels
would see us only in terms of whether we were profitable so we stopped
pretending that we had to, have some vague political trust in whoever
released our records; plus we were fed up with constantly bypassing
the "popular" part of popular culture, not being able to play
in places like the USA, and watching as a million other crap bands were
getting the airtime/press space to talk absolute crap whilst we sniped
tinily from the sidelines. We wanted to work with the labels who'd work
the hardest in our interest. We went to Germany to sign with EMI and
one of the EMI blokes asked us if it was problematic for us to, be signed
with EMI. We said it was, because EMI has symbolic status. Chumbawamba's
early history is rooted in (so-called) "peace punk” and EMI
was always shorthand for everything evil about the music industry. Signing
with EMI for us finally lays the ghost of peace punk, its political
mistakes and its misplaced logic, to rest. It isn’t the eighties
any more... you can't fight a modernized army using outdated weaponry.
We realise that some people are going to be unhappy about our choices,
but it's not our job to placate people with false distinctions between
'good' and 'bad' bosses. Our job is to, spread propaganda, throw up
debate and argument, cause some trouble, and carry on making music which
goes against the grain of these shallow times. We reckon all these things
deserve to reach a bigger audience.”
B2F: I agree that these ideas need to reach further
and wider. Continual preaching to the converted will get nowhere. I
must admit I was quite taken aback, but I didn’t think they’d
“sold out”. In my book selling out means a compromise of
principles and yet the irony wasn’t entirely lost either. I waited
to see what might happen. Chumbawamba used their 15 minutes of fame
to fund assorted underground projects, throw water around the deputy
prime minister John Prescott and shout free Mumia
Abu Jamal on prime time US television among other activities. Things
have now come full circle and the band now are now back on a small independent
label, No Masters, and have gone back to their folk roots, a style which
was always in the background of their music. Anyway make up your own
mind, here’s guitarist Boff with how it all began :
“When the band started there were three blokes
and a super 8 projector. It was anti-Falklands war cabaret strangeness.
Two women, a dog and three cats moved into an empty house in Armley,
Leeds and promptly joined the band. Other people came and moved in,
lived there for a while, some joined the band, others didn’t.
There were frequent police raids and a garden full of vegetables - and
bizarre haircuts and vegan footwear, for a while. Then the band started
to take it all more seriously, so for a few years they rehearsed and
played and put out independent-label cassettes and records. John Peel
championed the first single and meant the band could play further afield,
in empty church halls in Bristol and redundant slaughterhouses in Swindon.
These were exciting times, with the band intent on switching between
thrashpunk
and acapella harmony singing. By the late 1980’s Chumbawamba discovered
dance beats and primitive samplers. They toured the USA in a van, shocked
people who decided they’d “gone disco”, and came home
broke A couple of personnel shifts came and went. The squat almost collapsed
beneath its own weight. People moved out, others moved in, and Chumbawamba
took itself seriously and toured throughout the early nineties. After
a period of relative success playing with Credit to the Nation and working
with One Little Indian Records, a slump period coincided with OLI’s
disillusionment with the forthcoming album by the band. Taking part-time
jobs for a while, Chumbawamba passed round tapes of the finished album
in the hope of someone being able to manufacture and distribute it.
EMI and Universal, bizarrely, loved it, and offered enough money to
keep the band working for several years. Much discussion followed. Band
meetings were fraught and electric. Seizures and fainting, hollering
and shouting. Armed with good contract lawyers, Chumbawamba decided
to go with the multinationals and see where it took them. The album
‘Tubthumping’ (an album written about what was happening
in northern England at that time) spurned a one hit wonder and Chumbawamba
flew around the world poking fun at the stupid business they were in.
Some of it was ironic, some simply crap. They returned to earth and
carried on making belligerently unformulaic records for smaller labels,
changing styles to suit whim and bloody-mindedness. They continue to
this day as a rockin’ bunch of geriatric teddy boys playing the
hits of Chuck Berry with an old Casio keyboard and a wardrobe of mothballed
stage wear.”
B2F: Tell us how the band got
going and what motivated you down this path? Tell us a little about
the early DiY years, cassette culture and squatting ?
“We started in various other bands, punk bands,
learning how to play and generally wanting to just make music. We came
together not through the idea of the band but by living together and
by moving into a squatted house together. Here, we’ve got a spare
room, this is what we’re trying to do — sharing money and
repairing the house and garden — oh and by the way, there’s
this band which I’m sure you can do something in. We constantly
swapped instruments and tried different musical ideas out - went through
a phase of being called ‘The Four Duncans’ playing only
children’s plastic instruments.
By dint of the bands we were listening to, we got more and more into
wanting to say something about the world we lived in. First the Clash,
Slits, the Jam, Wire etc and then Crass, Flux and Conflict. When we
made our first cassette demo to sell at gigs, we had people telling
us we’d sold out. We ran our own printing press in the basement
and produced booklets and leaflets, and had a funny green van that was
used on most local political campaigns. We must’ve looked like
a real rent-a-mob. The van always broke down or was stopped by the cops,
seemingly always hobbling from one demo to the next. The saving grace
through all those years (I reckon) was having women in the house and
in the band. It kept us from turning into a lad’s rock n roll
party. Our ethos was, if you can’t pitch in and do your share
of the cooking and washing up then what’s the point in talking
about revolution ? ”
B2F: The band’s political
ethos made a major shift from peace-punk ideology around the Great Miners’
Strike 1984-1985 to espousing what Kropotkin called ‘propaganda
by the deed’. Your stance became proviolence. What caused the
militant shift and is this perspective still important for you nowadays
?
“Well we were sort of reacting to the way campaign
and demo politics had created its own strict rules. After a few Hyde
Park CND rallies they sort of became just ‘good days out’.
Great to go and listen to Tony Benn or watch Gil-Scott Heron or whatever,but
in real terms, under Thatcher/Reagan, it felt like this huge movement
wasn’t going anywhere. Everyone was into creating ‘alternatives’
instead of confronting the real issues. The Miners Strike was great
for us lot, it woke us up. It all happened on our doorstep and suddenly
we were aware that this was a big issue in that world of peace-punk
and CND rallies. We liked getting involved in a different way. I wouldn’t
say it was all effective, and there was an amount of ideological confusion
and jumping in the deep end, but it was good that people went through
it. It was important to ditch the way protest had been boxed and compartmentalised.
We were suddenly singing about the idea of getting more militant, smashing
windows, going on picket lines and joining in riots. After those pleasant
CND rallies, finding yourself at a colliery gate with hundreds of miners
fighting the police had a buzz of involvement and a spark of life we
relished. I could go on and on about that year, when the Strike turned
a lot of heads around. That peace punk scene had run its course, at
least for us in northern England.”
B2F: Were you disgusted by the
attitude of people who wouldn’t support the miners because the
strikers “ate meat” and “were sexist”? Thatcher
destroyed traditional industry in a number of areas removing not just
jobs and livelihoods but culture itself. Do you think that that cultural
wound can ever be healed ?
“Well I don’t remember if we were ‘disgusted’,
but it really did make us think about this whole culture we were involved
in. And yes, that was a wound that Thatcher opened up which won’t
ever repair, it’s become a defining point for so many people.
Destroying resistance has always been about more than attacking people
— you have to destroy their culture, too. I know the story of
how Gaelic football was banned in Ireland in 1918; the British government
named the Gaelic Athletic Association on its list of banned organisations,
saying it was tied to Irish revolutionaries. The cultural stuff is as
important as the military and political stuff. As for whether the cultural
wound can be healed — Alice (from the band) has announced many
times that when Thatcher dies there’ll be a spontaneous party
at her house. The reaction she gets to this is that everywhere, different
people think the same thing… The Witch is Dead! Party! People
who lived through the eighties and saw, or were part of, that Thatcherite
revolution, will never forget it.”
B2F: Around 86-87 there was a
song in the live set called “Read All about It” in which
support for the IRA’s armed campaign was announced. I understand
that 2 members of the band stayed in West Belfast briefly and based
their observations on that experience. However some people from Belfast
took issue with the fact that the IRA are a totalitarian regime and
impinge upon freedom in the same way as the State and that Chumbas had
only visited one side of a divided community. Can you discuss where
the line is drawn between freedom-fighter and usurper ?
“I don’t think the song ‘Read All
about It’ was a direct result of staying in Belfast. It was a
result of our realisation that Thatcher was waging a war much closer
to home than the Falklands, and that whatever our position on it, we’d
better start finding out about it and reading about it and talking to
people about it. Of course the IRA represented so much politically that
we didn’t agree with, but they were Thatcher’s sworn enemy
and that, at least, counted for something. The first trip to stay in
Belfast was with the Troops Out Movement, which surprisingly wasn’t
overly reverential towards Sinn Fein (there were some heated and fascinating
arguments in the forums and debates there) but even so we kept a distance
between ourselves and the TOM party line. Still, it was an opportunity
to go to Belfast. I can’t deny I had a right good time in the
pubs and bars and like a proper tourist I had a gun pushed in my face
by a young soldier from England. Even amongst the bands and radical
political groups in Belfast (over the years we talked and argued with
a fair few) there was argument and dissent on support for anything vaguely
‘Republican’, and we knew full well that a bunch of anarchists
from Leeds weren’t going to get to the heart of the situation
by reading some books and staying in West Belfast a couple of times.
It just seemed to us that there was a time when Thatcher was so intent
on pushing her anti-Republican agenda to the point of using torture,
murder, and with it the full force of the media, that we chose sides.
The side we chose wasn’t Sinn Fein’s Marxist line or the
IRA’s gangster fetish, but it did match some of the campaigns
both Sinn Fein and the IRA were spearheading. The hunger strikes had
a real effect on us. Before that we hadn’t taken much notice of
what was happening in Ireland, and why. Suddenly there was this young
bloke who wrote radical poetry, was being demonised by The Sun, and
got voted as MP by his own community even though in prison. I know it’s
not as simple as all that, but I think us writing songs about Ireland,
pro-Republican, anti-Thatcher songs, was a good thing for our English
audience. It’s strange though — twenty-odd years later and
I’m still walking a tightrope when trying to talk about Ireland,
at that time. What’s clear to me now is that it was important
for us to see it from our own northern English perspective, because
that was our audience and that’s where we wanted to start people
talking. I still have no qualms about us quoting Bobby Sands on stage
back then, and I still think Christy Moore’s ‘Spirit of
Freedom’ album, focussing on the hunger strikes, is one of the
most powerful and beautiful records ever made. (But I also know how
crap and shallow it would seem to some people living in the middle of
that divided
community to hear people like us trying to encapsulate some kind of
three-minute rebel stance on the situation with a few harmonies thrown
in for good measure).”
B2F: That’s interesting
because I think very few people have analysed the Irish situation to
any great depth often being content with the black and white distortion
of a media bent on the great quest for sensationalist headlines where
anything remotely green was somehow wrong. Many people do not realise
the oppression of both working communities in this situation by those
who maintained the fear and lived off the misery. (The UVF actually
realised this years ago and pulled their support away from the DUP).
Do you still raise the question or is that tight-rope too dicey and
what role can alternative
media offer ?
“We don’t raise the question because it
doesn’t seem to get asked anymore. We’re a band that often
walks on those ‘dicey
tightropes’ and very often falls flat on our faces. Basically,
we’re on the side of people who want change. Who want things to
get better. That’s a starting point. The whole Irish situation
was, and is, something we have to approach as English people, talking
to English people. Through the late eighties we were playing to English
student audiences who were so amazingly unaware of the Irish situation.
All we seemed to have over here was the knee-jerk anti-IRA stuff which
the media peddled. It was our instinct as an anarchist band to try to
articulate some of that stuff (the song you talked about was about media
distortion of the situation). At the time Gerry Adams’ voice was
still being blanked on TV, whilst Ian Paisley was allowed to spout his
war-mongering bloodcurdling rhetoric whenever and wherever he liked.
Mind you, the ‘dicey tightropes’ are always there. We had
it in the neck for a while from animal rights people, from the DiY community
(especially in the USA), we get it every time we make a move which steps
slightly sideways.”
B2F: Chumbas have always had a thing for football.
I appreciate that football at a community level is a positive feature
of local life for many but when it becomes the domain of the Companies
it turns into farce. The football star becomes the commodity and children
aspire towards the great plastic goalposts in this season’s kit.
Is it simply the involvement of the companies or is it the structure
of the game itself, and by extension all sports, being male dominated,
competitive and concerned with domination of one side over another allowing
patriotism and racism an easy back door ?
“I don’t agree at all with your latter assertion. And about
football, I sort of agree, but with reservations. I was born and brought
up in Burnley, a dilapidated town with a dwindling population and an
extinct industry. Burnley has a football team just about holding its
head up in Division One (not the Premier League), no money, small squad,
no famous players but a central place in the community. Kids in Burnley
don’t wear Man Utd or Arsenal shirts, they wear Burnley shirts.
The buses are Burnley FC’s colours, the players drink in the local
pubs, and the team are big news in the Burnley Express whether they
win or lose. So my view of football is tainted by growing up with this
world a million miles from Sky TV and David Beckham and multi-million
pound wages bills etc. Of course it’s all still commercial, still
marketcommodity entertainment, but it does have a peculiar and powerful
role in the life of the town. And in a town which the BNP have targeted
for local council seats, the role of the football team, with its multi-racial
make-up and overt anti-racist stance, is essential. And no, I don’t
think all sport is bad just because it’s competitive. I reckon
competition is fine as long as it doesn’t go hand-in-hand with
the Nike-promoted “Second Is Nowhere” ethos so prevalent
in USA sports (or in USA culture in general, in fact — “anyone
can become President”. So that’s just under 300 million
failures every election, then). And if you take away the overblown commercialism,
the patriotism and the male dominance, you’re still left with
many many millions of people who play sport to
keep healthy, to be part of a community, to have a laugh, to test themselves,
to get out of the house, to see more of their world… I live opposite
a school playing field, and the sight of kids running around playing
football almost every day — both
organised and unorganised — fills me with more hope than any number
of things those kids have as alternatives (TV, Playstation, drugs, whatever).”
B2F: Hmmm…well it is a game of two halves
after all.
“No, I don’t agree. I’ll give you an example. England
played a friendly game recently, and towards the end of the game there
was a double substitution. The England manager brought on two substitutes
at the same time. Sean Wright-Phillips and Peter
Crouch, one a tiny (5’2”) black lad and the other a blonde-haired
geeky-looking 6’7” lad. And weirdly, it made me really happy
to be from this strange country where we’re such a mongrel mix
of culture and style and influence, made me think that this sport is
one way to see what a mixed-up, interesting place we live in. I mean
I’m not saying it was ebony and ivory living together in perfect
harmony, but it was a real one in the eye for bigots and racists. It
transcended football, basically. And I think this happens quite a lot,
nowadays.”
B2F: For many years you incorporated elements
of street theatre into your live set. How important is it to include
the visual perspective as a means of communicating your ideas and does
this defeat the consumer spectacle that divides performer from punter
?
“Well, that spectacle dividing performer from audience is a pretty
solid fact of live music. We used to talk about ways to challenge that
gap, but it’s really hard. When you go to a gig you tend not to
want the band to start playing with the format too much, you want to
hear and see what’s going on. I mean, there’s a lovely thing
on ATV’s first album where it’s a live gig and Mark Perry
(lead singer) says he wants to break down the star/audience barrier
and invites people on to the stage, and… people just get up there
and yell obscenities and start fights. We always used the visual part
of the show because we realised that in a culture where people grow
up watching TV it might be a good idea to use the audience’s visual
sophistication to make the whole show more memorable. Make it more ‘readable’.
If you’re parodying a game-show host on stage, then stick on a
gold lame jacket, make it a bit more complete. A lot of the stuff I
grew up listening to had a big visual thing going on — even the
Pistols were full of theatrics. Lately we realised that a way to get
around that approach was to do the opposite — talk to the audience.
Get involved in conversations from the stage, talk about the place you’re
playing,
ask people in the audience what they think about things, get them singing
along. It’s such a different thing for us, but we’re
trying it because it’s interesting and challenging and we didn’t
want to wear the gold lame jacket forever.”
B2F: You have utilised a number
of approaches and constantly reinvented yourself by the styles of music
you play. Is this a deliberate approach for you or do you to some extent
follow musical fashion as a way of keeping credible from a commercial
standpoint ?
“Well we sometimes follow musical fashion but only because we
love the music. There’s not much attempt at ‘credibility’
— I think we’re so far away from what the ‘taste-makers’
decide is ‘credible’ that it’s laughable to us. We
started doing acapella singing, using wah-wah guitar rhythms, writing
singalonga choruses, ripping off sampled vocals, looping sampled beats,
because we loved listening to them. We’d literally hear something
and someone would say, “Let’s have a go at that!”
The other thing is that we constantly run scared of getting in a rut.
I can’t abide the idea of becoming the kind of band who has “a
sound”, and who sticks to it.”
B2F: Everybody is stealing from someone else as you have mentioned.
Is originality merely a re-arrangement of what has already been done
before in a new format ?
”Oh probably, yes. There are exceptions, where something comes
along and shocks you, you can’t work out where it came from, and
it sounds new and fascinating. But mostly, we’re living in an
age where stuff is largely recycled and twisted. Some of the things
I love right now, culturally, are great to me because they take stuff
I know from the past and mix it with something modern. I have to be
careful now, though. I don’t want to become the ageing granddad
who sits in the corner dribbling and saying everything sounds like something-or-other
“from my day”.”
B2F: You promoted filesharing
a few years ago with a series of free downloads. Can you think of any
particular ways of combating the likes of the RIAA and those trying
to demonise MP3 culture? I notice some P2P folk are putting a disclaimer
on their files for example.
“I can’t think of a way other than people
constantly finding ways around the whole thing. Well, we could make
a point by
executing people like Madonna and Metallica, which would be some good
forward publicity, but it’d have to be followed up by a concerted
campaign to encourage millionaire record company execs and over-fed
musicians to spread their obscene wealth to those at the bottom more
and in time encourage fans to invest in helping those bands who need
support.”
B2F: The playing of practical jokes has long been
a hobby of yours. Do you do them just our own amusement or do you think
they make some kind of impact politically? Tell us a few of your own
personal favourites ?
“Practical jokes don’t abide by any pattern or structure.
They don’t, do they? You just sit there and the next thing you
know,
someone’s had a stupid idea that you think is worth making an
effort for. Sometimes it ends up turning into a record, sometimes it
just fizzles out. Sometimes you just can’t afford to make it happen.
Even putting a bucket of water on a door takes a fair amount of effort
to prepare. My favourite was a photo-sequence we did for Class War paper
once. A long time ago. We were fans of the paper but treated it with
a certain amount of, er, tongue-in-cheek. Or a pinch of salt. Or something.
They had a section where people were invited to write in to say how
they’d “Bashed the Rich”. So we set up some photos.
Me and Dunst, dressed in suits and carrying briefcases and newspapers,
are walking along a busy street in Leeds. Suddenly a skin headed ruffian
(Harry) steals up behind us, and finally, in the last shot, he showers
the two rich bastards with a ‘shit-filled condom’ (apparently
a favourite weapon of the time amongst Class Warriors). They duly printed
the photographs along with the caption ‘Leeds Comrades Attack
Rich Scum’, or somesuch. There you go, a bit pointless and a lot
of effort. See, that’s what you can get up to when you don’t
have a proper job.”
B2F: Signing with the multinational company EMI
enabled you to reach a huge audience and further your ideas but to many
you’d compromised your ideals as the fact that EMI no longer manufactured
weaponry did not detract from the fact of who they were and what they
represented as an expression of big business corruption. However you
used your money and fame to further certain causes important to you.
Can you describe some of these causes and if you have any regrets about
this juncture in your career? Is it a method of fighting the system
from within for you and what is your relationship with the company now?
“We did the EMI thing (this is in a nutshell) because we wanted
to give up our crap jobs, wanted to get out of the indie ghetto, wanted
to create argument and debate amongst the purists and stamp-soapers,
wanted to be able to sell our records in places we’d barely heard
of, wanted to be able to pay the people who worked for us, wanted to
break the rules, and wanted to have a laugh for a year or two at somebody
else’s expense. No, that’s all a bit frivolous, but you
get the idea. We really got sick of arguments with drunken vegans questioning
our leather footwear. I specifically remember Dunstan in 1996, standing
outside a venue surrounded by about six black-clad blokes, having to
argue about his shoes. His shoes! Every time I’m asked about the
EMI thing now I get a wry smile and a flashback to that. What EMI were
to us was a vehicle for us doing some fantastic things for a while.
Believe me, we had a very good contract and weren’t about to be
ripped off by Mr Suit and his Evil Cohorts with their Ponytails. We
went into it with both eyes open, got what we could from it, and left.
We earned ridiculous amounts of money in that time. Not because of EMI,
but because we had a popular song which people wanted to play on the
radio. So we had our usual weekly meetings, eight of us sitting around,
deciding from week to week
where the money could go. For a couple of years it was broadly a ten-way
split — eight of us, one tenth for the husband and wife management
duo, and a tenth for people who wrote to us and asked for money. In
addition, all money from adverts and
soundtracks and stuff was up for grabs, and given away to all sorts
of different groups and people. Hundreds of thousands. It
was stupid for a while, and now it’s back to normal. I have no
regrets about all that stuff whatsoever. But no, it wasn’t a method
of fighting the system from within; it was more a way of getting inside
the system and having a nosey round, see what it was like, see how much
it matched our expectations. I loved, for once, having the power (which
isn’t the same as just having the ideology) to turn down big companies.
None of us come from money backgrounds so it was interesting having
some to do something with, for a few years. Being able to come up with
an idea for a one-off song and saying “let’s record it,
press up 5,000, and send them out for free!”. That was good. Being
able to go on David Letterman and sing about Mumia
Abu-Jamal, Letterman threatening to pull our appearance if we didn’t
change the words, us saying No and walking out of the
building. Watching it on TV that evening, knowing he couldn’t
pull it because we were selling too many records. I know, I know, it’s
pathetic really, but we had such a good laugh. Mind you, we spent two
years being totally knackered.”
B2F: Isn’t there a danger though that the
big politics will be lost amongst the small politics ?
“It’s all politics, and the big stuff and the small stuff
are all joined up anyway aren’t they? War, fundamentalism, religion,
the
teaching of evolution or creationism in local schools, racism, bullying,
bigotry, media lies, September 11, oil, petrol in our car,
recycling, etc. It’s hard to see where one issue ends and another
begins.”
B2F: The anti-globalisation movement has been
gathering momentum, focusing around major demonstrations against the
G8, IMF and World Bank tea parties. How do you see this movement progressing
now and what might be the next stage in its evolution be? I realise
that this is a highly speculative question but how does a social movement
of such historical importance ultimately gather momentum and what is
the next stage ?
“I’d say it’s been losing momentum
for a little while. It seems there was a peak, somewhere between Seattle
and Geneva, where the pattern of demonstrating was successful and clever
and got the media and made its point. I think there has to be a change
now, somehow. It can’t just be a repeat of the blackbloc/ surround
the meeting/water cannon and tear-gas stuff. I was at the Geneva protest
in 2001 and felt like I was part of something revolutionary and defining.
Recently I haven’t thought
this as much. For a radical movement to keep challenging effectively,
it has to change. I have arguments with people in Leeds that I know
about this. Mind you, I do think that any kind of mass protest, including
the huge anti-war protests, has a galvanising and inspiring effect on
the people who attend. The fact that up to two million people gather
in anger and are then completely ignored by the powersthat- be can only
inspire a healthy cynicism of parliamentary democracy.”
B2F: The ‘Readymades’ album, which
I regard as one of your best works to date, has a wonderful theme of
water and flow throughout. Is this the flow of folk music as protest
throughout history? Was the theme of water intended or did it develop
organically and is folk music the only true form of protest for the
revolutionary ?
“The theme of water was deliberate and premeditated. It’s
such a lovely traditional folk thing, the sea and the shore etc…
I’m glad you noticed it (most people don’t, I’m sure).
I love the stories we based the songs on — naval mutinies, the
King fleeing down the Thames, all that. And the sample of Lal Waterson’s
voice (‘Salt fare… north sea’) still completely captivates
me. She’s originally singing about fish n chips, I think. ‘Salt
Fare’, meaning fish suppers. Sometimes, live, we sing her original
version of that song. I don’t think folk music is the only true
form of protest, no. I’ve got so much music on my shelves which
I think of as radical music which isn’t ‘folk’ —
Frank Zappa, Public Enemy, The Clash, KLF, to name some obvious ones.
Every genre has its revolutionary artists.”
B2F: I mention folk music as being truly revolutionary
in the sense that it is oral tradition (largely) and not product (mostly)
– therefore it belongs to people on a community level and is outside
the sphere of commodity, though I do realise this has changed in the
last 5o years ?
“I don’t have a problem with ‘commodity’ as
such, though I do love that tradition of people-based culture, singing
together in
pubs etc. We have to be careful with any notion of ‘purity’
in this. I think you can say that the folk tradition changed immeasurably
when recorded music came along, but I’d say that the folk tradition
carried on, for instance through skiffle and gospel — I mean,
these were traditional forms translated for the jukebox. We can look
back now and see the jukebox as part of the localised tradition; gospel,
soul, hillbilly music, brought into our pubs from thousands of miles
away, all adding to the general stew of people’s music. You should
hear Martin Carthy’s version of ‘Heartbreak Hotel’.
It’s gorgeous, and he recorded it (about five or six years ago)
as a way of looping the circle from its history, and through rock n
roll, and back to being a folk song. I think Arctic Monkeys singing
songs about seeing a fight in a taxi queue in Sheffield is pretty folky,
too.”
B2F: Nowadays half the band is on an indefinite
sabbatical. Is this the beginning of the end for Chumbawamba as we know
it or will the band continue without several key members in the form
it now exists ?
“Well, there’s a five-person Chumbawamba playing live right
now. It’s a step away from the Chumbawamba people know, and thank
goodness for that. Same ideas, same political outlook, but with a different
slant to playing in front of audiences. Right now we’re obsessed
with talking to the audience. Pop/rock n roll seemed to move away from
there being any interaction at all between stage and crowd. With acoustic
music there’s no ADAT/amps/drum kit to hide behind, so we’re
forced to come right out and get involved. It’s fascinating and
weird and thoroughly rewarding, for us. I’m fed up of watching
bands who mumble intros and then say ‘thanks’ at the end.”
B2F: Do you think the prices of your CDs are fair? What is the revolutionary
product?
“No, I don’t think the prices of our CDs are fair, but I
do think we’re tied into a commercial pattern that we can’t
escape from very easily. We either accede to the accepted mark-ups (manufacturer/distributor/dealer)
or we sell only from our
website and at gigs. But that cuts out the so-called ‘casual buyer’
people who just see a CD and think, “oh, what’s this…?”
I mean you know and I know that it’s all a bunch of crap, but
it’s the way people have been taught to consume their music.
I’m as bad as anyone — I download something illegally, like
it, look for the official release on the internet, see that there’s
other stuff available… before you know it I have three albums
instead of just the one I wanted. I have to say though that we do put
a fair amount of effort into making the CD sleeves more than just crappy
four-page photos of sunsets and empty recording studios. If people are
paying for a CD then I reckon they should get sleeve notes, lyrics,
pics and a bit of thought along with the disc.”
B2F: Does it bother you that people (the fans)
want to know the tiniest details of your personal lives? It taxes my
mind when people seem more interested in the idiosyncrasies of their
idols than their own lives and ideas. Do you try to avoid the ‘personality’
trip that inevitably comes with the job or is it just something to have
a bit of fun with?
“I think we’ve been fairly good at avoiding banging on about
our personal lives. In general, people don’t ask us. We’re
one of those bands that has enough to say, so interviewers and fans
tend not to bother asking us about what studios we record in or whether
the trumpet player is shagging the engineer.”
B2F: (Is the trumpet player really shagging the
engineer?)
“If I cannot dance to it, it’s not my revolution”
is a quote attributed to Emma Goldman that you used. There is a spirit
of fun and mischief that permeates much of what you’ve done. How
important is this aspect and is it what defined you in a way and lifted
you out of the anarcho-punk rut? I put this because the early punk movement
was often so very serious, clad in black clothes and black cloud politics.
“We always wanted to have a laugh with it all, to make it enjoyable.
We found out after about two years that there are ways of singing about
the horrors and ugliness of the world without having to end up getting
depressed about it all. That’s counterproductive, as a political
artist. As an anarchist I have hope in a future. I never had sympathy
with those mates of mine who got profoundly upset and depressed when
Ian Curtis killed himself. Yeah, anarcho-punk was sometimes a pretty
dismal scene.”
B2F: You mentioned you are a fan of the great
Frank Zappa. On an interview Zappa did with that epitome of free-thinking
Larry King in 1993 I think, Zappa was asked about the activity of Tipper
Gore and the PMRC. Zappa replied that he did not think that music made
people go out and do things and used the example that 90% of the stuff
played on American radio was about Love and yet it did not create a
nation of love. Perhaps this is slightly out of context from that but
do you honestly believe that people pay attention to your lyrical and
political ideas ?
“I don’t agree with Zappa here. People like Ice-T and Marylyn
Manson use the same argument. It’s a get-out. I hate that weird
logic. Of course art is part of influencing the world; otherwise why
use art to say anything? Of course it influences people. They’re
saying that the influx of black music from Stevie Wonder and Marvin
Gaye to hip hop and RnB into British culture hasn’t had a positive
effect on young people’s attitude to racism? That the influx of
gay culture in music, TV and film hasn’t had a positive effect
on our homophobia? Music certainly made me go out and do things. It
changed my life. The ultimately successful anti-Vietnam movement was
sound tracked by CSN&Y, Dylan, and Hendrix. The Civil Rights movement
in USA was sound tracked by James Brown, Marvin Gaye…Look at how
even Green Day right now are influencing hundreds of thousands of kids
to question the American myth and it’s warmongering leaders. So
yes, I do think art plays a part in changing people’s minds about
the world and about themselves. It bugs me that Manson tries to hide
behind the shield of ‘blame the parents’. Especially when
he’s saying, ‘fuck your parents’.”
B2F: You have often described yourselves as anarchists
and your material is full of reference to Goldman, Kropotkin, Paris
68 and all things anarchist but do you think this old tag carries too
much historical baggage? Anarchists, next to the Peoples Front of Judea,
are traditionally splitters to the extent that the international movement
dwindled rapidly after the demise of the CNT and the Spanish Civil War.
Bakunin and Marx in Russia, Proudhon and Reclus in France, Malatesta
in Italy… all disagreed with one another to the detriment of the
International and as such revolution is unlikely beyond the fits and
starts of short-lived movements at different stages of history. Isn’t
the same problem still there and do you see a way around it ?
“The same problems are still there, but I personally find the
philosophy of anarchism full of hope and possibility. It’s not
some packaged, boxed-in historical concept as much as a living, changing
idea. I’m not over-interested in whether it has a future as a
worldwide utopian reality — for me, it’s more about the
possibilities in the everyday, a way of doing things right now without
getting tangled up in the egomania and dogma of traditional revolutionary
politics.”
B2F: The BNP still represent a threat in Burnley,
Keighley and other areas in your part of the world. Are you still involved
on a local level and if so how? Billy Bragg suggested leafleting every
house where the BNP or other far right candidates might stand explaining
what they are and what they stand for, a kind of anti-canvassing if
you like. It seems that many people in working areas, particularly the
elderly have little idea of modern politics. Would you agree and do
you espouse any particular strategy for dealing with this ?
“A broad coalition of anti-fascists, spearheaded by Searchlight,
did in fact leaflet many, many thousand of homes in Keighley
before the last local election, in a successful stand against the BNP.”
B2F: Can you briefly tell us what the others are
up to and your plans for the future. Do you believe you can continue
making albums that “don’t sound like the last one”?
“What the others are up to… it’s all on our website
at www.chumba.com. That’s not a cop-out, I just know they tell
it themselves better. As for the future… thankfully, weirdly,
interestingly, I just don’t know. We haven’t talked about
it other than in the broadest, most abstract of terms. Not sure where
we’re going, or how. I do really hope, though, that it’s
somewhere different and fascinating and enjoyable.”
B2F: Tell me about your disturbed childhood and
your relationship with your abusive father ?
“Well, it started when I was very young. I remember one night
when my father came home drunk and…”
B2F: That’s enough of that. I wanted gossip
and anecdotes, not hidden pain and tortured self-loathing…
“But, you said…”
B2F: The verdict from the Harry Stanley inquiry
surely reinforces the notion that, as Robb Johnson would put it, “there’s
no justice anywhere till we put it there.” How important is politics
on a local level to you? Does/should it take precedence over the larger
scale politics ?
“How local is local? I’m currently involved in an email
battle concerning cycle lanes in West Yorkshire. It’s purely personal
and I don’t like to mention it in public. But most weeks I’m
writing songs about politics, stuff that affects us on a local and a
global level. It’s all important. I can’t read the newspaper
without feeling aggrieved and angry and knowing that politics (local
and global) won’t just disappear from my life.”
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