One of the UK’s dilemmas in past years was that all its best homegrown musical talent had gestated on the dole. Unemployment had given bands space to develop, time to reflect, and a burning ambition to escape the confines of an otherwise routine life (depending on where they grew up).
So when Tony Blair was crowing about Cool Britannia and inviting the Gallagher brothers to Number 10, he was also making their like extinct by ushering in draconian benefit cuts.
The legacy of such policy decisions is clearly evident today as now we mostly have bands populated by Oxbridge toffs like Keane and Mumford and Sons. Hey ho!
Back in the 90s, I was one such pre-Blair dole-ite soul. When the Dead Fly Studios closed its doors, I engaged in the quaint game of spending my time in creative activity (with Poisoned Electrick Head) whilst living on a pittance, then once a fortnight feigning an air of defeat and sub-intellect to sign for my sustenance. It was a cat and mouse affair, the canny approach being just to play along with every new incentive – Jobclub weeks, interviews, and eventually Work Placement.
#1 Lio
#2 George
#3 Picard
#4 Vint & Pauline 50th Wedding Anniversary
#5 Remi, & Self Portrait
#6 Mum & Dad
#7 Ruth, Drink Me, Zappa, And Aladdin Sane
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