The Redskins’ one and only album is a soul-punk
classic burning with passion, hope and socialism. It was nothing like any other
album of its time, but it’s message resonates in a difficult and troubled time
now as much as it did on its initial release.
As depressing as Thatcher’s Britain was in the high
unemployment and devastated industrial communities of the 1980s, there was an
alternative. In music it began with The Beat’s ‘Stand Down Margaret’ and
continued throughout the dirty decade from the likes of the Style Council, The
Smiths, Linton Kwesi Johnson and Billy Bragg. The Redskins were at the
forefront of the alternative to big hair, spandex trousers and me-first
attitudes. They were about solidarity, peace, and anti-racism. This
Yorkshire-born three-piece were opinionated, committed and musically brilliant
who, in terms of cutting edge polemic and absolute confidence in their beliefs,
have rarely if ever been bettered.
The skinhead three-piece was fronted by Chris Dean, a
sometime NME scribe who was inspired by Joe Strummer, who was accompanied by
drummer Nick King, and bassist Martin Hewes. Changing their name from No
Swastikas to Redskins in 1982, they moved to London and released their debut
single in July of that year.
Their emergence was timed perfectly. In 1979 Margaret
Thatcher’s Conservative Party won a parliamentary majority and soon began the
dismantling of heavy industry, resulting in huge job losses and devastated
communities. Most of this occurred in the north, in places like Yorkshire where
The Redskins were formed. Fascism and far-right activity was lurking around and
the band hated that lot too.
In the early days, The Redskins were more punk than
soul. ‘Peasant Army’ contained an inflammatory, angry chorus and was a rousing
anthem of optimism. It was as good as, if not better than, the a-side, ‘Lev
Bronstein’, who was otherwise known as revolutionary leader Leon Trotsky.
Another single was released on CNT in 1983, ‘Lean On Me!’ / ‘Unionize!’ (they
loved punctuality), and again the b-side was as good as it’s supposed superior.
CNT was an independent label that released early singles for the likes of
Sisters of Mercy and The Mekons, and took its name from the confederation of
anarcho-syndicalist unions in Spain.
‘Lean On Me’, was a paean to working-class solidarity
(“together we’ve a world to win”), and was described by the NME as a “modern
soul classic”; Then came further singles ‘Keep On Keepin’ On!’, ‘Bring it Down!
(This Insane Thing)’ - a minor chart hit no less, and ‘Kick Over the Statues’.
‘Keep On Keepin’ On!’ was released at the height of
the miner’s strike, with the band at their most prolific, playing benefit gigs
around the country and beyond in support of the men and their families who were
baton charged, jailed, harassed and ostracised just for defending their jobs.
The a-side solemnly noted “Can’t remember such a bitter time/ The boss says
jump, the workers fall in line/ They whip us into line with the threat of the
dole.”
A raft of singles had been issued over four years but
where was the album? That curious anomaly was finally rectified in 1986 when
Neither Washington Nor Moscow was issued on Decca. It was something of a
greatest hits collection with several of the singles included with just a
handful of new tracks.
Similarily, the lyrics to ‘It Can Be Done’ could have
been written anytime in the past ten years or so: “Hunger of the 30s/ Hunger of
the 30s back again/ And the rich still rich/ And the poor still the same as
they ever were/ And it seems to me/ We're still not learning from our history.”
Listening to the album in its entirety it seems the
answers are so simple … solidarity, unions, strikes, demonstrations, and not
backing down. Voting for Neil Kinnock’s Labour Party just wasn’t an option.
But, of course, the world isn’t as straightforward as that, and if it was we’d
probably be living in a very different society just now.
And as bolshy as it is, it also seems Redskins are
just trying too hard. Too hard in telling us the world’s problems which we can
all figure out; too hard telling us go on the demo on Saturday, to buy the
Socialist Worker newspaper and to persuade all our friends to join us.
A few months after the album was released the band
broke up, not through arguments about the musical direction they should take,
but the political stance they should or shouldn’t pursue. Dean’s desire was to
write love songs, which was highly ironic given his political outlook. Hewes
was less enthusiastic about the idea and believed there was still a battle to
fight with Thatcher still in power.
Dean disappeared from the music scene completely and
apparently was living a near-hermit existence in Paris and then in York.
Releases during the following three decades were limited to a live album, a
re-release of the studio album, and a compilation of rarities on a hardcore
punk label based in Canada.
Their split was timely, perhaps. Given that Neither
Washington Nor Moscow contained only a few new tracks and was full of
previously-released singles, they may have been struggling for motivation by
1986. They wouldn’t have been spoilt for inspiration had they continued.
Thatcher continued her divide and rule tactics, and the Poll Tax, which meant
people on the dole paid the same on their council house as a millionaire on his
mansion, would have provided a jolt in the arm at the end of the 1980s.
Redskins left on a high, with a wonderful legacy of a
back catalogue full of spiky, punk-soul classics that made an impression on,
maybe a small amount of people, but people who generally took on their ideals,
of using art in politics and of not allowing the bastards you grind you down.
Keep on keeping on indeed.
