Sunday 17 January 2016

The Beaten Generation

Viva Umkhonto!

During the course of 2015 I recommissioned my 21st birthday present from my father – a Micro Seiki MB-14ST that I brought over to the UK from my mom’s place in South Africa. I’ve also been slowly bringing over my collection of vinyl albums, meticulously selected and acquired, and lovingly cared for between the early-70’s and the late-80’s. They’ve also been stashed away at my mom’s place, protected from the elements in plastic sleeves and stored in bespoke cases holding about 50 albums apiece. Over the course of the past few months I’ve been playing some of the gems in my collection, and it’s been very rewarding to reconnect with my past. Both the good and the “interesting”.

Viva Umkhonto!

On one of our trips to Europe in the late-80’s my future wife and I made our regular pilgrimage to the music stores, including WOM (World of Music) in Germany. It was here (in which city, I don’t recall) that I bought the LP "Viva Umkhonto!" a compilation of punk and hardcore music that featured previously unreleased material by European and US bands. The record was released in April 1987 as a collaborative effort by two independent labels, namely Mordam Records (USA) and De Konkurrent (Holland), both of whom were strong backers of the struggle against Apartheid. According to a statement on the back of the sleeve, “All money raised by this record goes to Umkhonto We Sizwe. So this was a benefit album for the military wing of the ANC (African National Congress).

For context, allow me to turn to Wikipedia:

Umkhonto We Sizwe (abbreviated as MK, Zulu for "Spear of the Nation") was the armed wing of the African National Congress (ANC), co-founded by Nelson Mandela in the wake of the Sharpeville massacre. Its founding represented the conviction in the face of the massacre that the ANC could no longer limit itself to nonviolent protest; its mission was to fight against the South African government. After warning the South African government in June 1961 of its intent to resist further acts of terror if the government did not take steps toward constitutional reform and increase political rights, MK launched its first attacks against government installations on 16 December 1961. It was subsequently classified as a terrorist organisation by the South African government and the United States, and banned”.

Viva Umkhonto!

The album itself was definitely banned in South Africa and so possessing it was illegal. I took it into the country through Jan Smuts Airport (subsequently known as “Johannesburg International” and now, “O.R. Tambo International”) on my return from my trip to Europe and kept it safely tucked away in the belly of the beast in South Africa's capital city, Pretoria.

Viva Umkhonto!

In June 1986, on the tenth anniversary of the Soweto uprising, the Nationalist regime declared State of Emergency. It forbade any action that could undermine the Apartheid state, nationwide. Also forbidden were any kind of “subversive statements”, defined as statements that promoted unlawful strikes, boycotts or civil disobedience, attacked military conscription, promoted disinvestment or sanctions, or that “aggravated feelings of racial hostility”. The penalty for engaging in these actions was a maximum of ten years imprisonment. Ouch - I definitely did not want to be caught with this album!

Of the people detained under these draconian regulations (circa-8,000 in the first couple of months) no names were published with the exception of those released at the discretion of the South African Police. Throughout the State of Emergency, newspapers had to engage in self-censorship, at the risk of being closed down by the government, and many used to print disclaimers alongside their articles that read” “This report has been restricted to comply with the Emergency Regulations”.

1983-1985 End Conscription Campaign - SABC News Is Biased

Some newspapers and magazines were not able to appear, and no news came out of the black townships, except through the state’s Bureau of Information. At the time I stuck stickers on the front of my television screen and computer monitor that read “SABC News is Biased” just to remind myself to be vigilant about government disinformation.

Viva Umkhonto!

The music on the compilation album is okay, but it’s the packaging and presentation that I really enjoyed as a snapshot of the times, and as an interesting piece of social history. Along with the record were included a poster and a booklet filled with newspaper clippings and ANC propaganda about the armed struggle against Apartheid.

It also highlights companies that were breaking economic sanctions by continuing to do business with South Africa. The “Throw Well – Throw Shell” slogan is parody of oil the giant’s official marketing tag-line at the time, namely Go Well – Go Shell. I have uploaded a scan of this booklet to my DropBox.

Throw Well Throw Shell

I’m not going to comment on the accuracy or veracity of the information in the booklet, but in those turbulent times – under a state of emergency, with broad media censorship and where owning certain music could earn you a jail sentence – it was thrilling to see what people abroad were thinking and to read material that was not towing the official National Party line.

Viva Umkhonto!

With the benefit of hindsight, it’s fascinating to see how right Matt Johnson was back in 1989 (The TheMind Bomb). Although he wasn’t talking about South Africa, per se, when he sang that we were the “beaten generation, reared on a diet of prejudice and misinformation”, he pretty much hit the nail on the head. Prejudice and misinformation were weapons in the arsenal on both sides of the struggle in South Africa. I was one of the few pale South Africans to have the privilege of being exposed to both sides of that deformed coin.

When you cast your eyes upon the skylines
Of this once proud nation
Can you sense the fear and the hatred
Growing in the hearts of its population
And our youth, oh youth, are being seduced
By the greedy hands of politics and half truths

The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Reared on a diet of prejudice and mis-information
The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Open your eyes, open your imagination

We're being sedated by the gasoline fumes
And hypnotized by the satellites
Into believing what is good and what is right
You may be worshiping the temples of mammon
Or lost in the prisons of religion
But can you still walk back to happiness
When you've nowhere left to run?

The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Reared on a diet of prejudice and mis-information
The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Open your eyes, open your imagination

And if they send in the special police
To deliver us from liberty and keep us from peace
Then won't the words sit ill upon their tongues
When they tell us justice is being done
And that freedom lives in the barrels of a warm gun

The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Reared on a diet of prejudice and mis-information
The beaten generation, the beaten generation
Open your eyes, open your imagination

Viva Umkhonto!

If you'd like to take a listen to "Viva Umkhonto!" I've found a ripped copy of the LP available for download here.

Cheers, MAlfaRK ©

Viva Umkhonto!

Tuesday 12 January 2016

My Death


1974. I'd spent summer in Europe with my parents. My first trip out of Africa. I already owned David Bowie's "Pin Ups" and a SA-only double album release called "Superstar" when I saw the posters for "Diamond Dogs" all over London. It had just been released a month earlier. When we got back to Pretoria I bought the record. My first concept album and one that had me glued to my father's new B&O hi-fi for more hours than I went to school, with Beyer Dynamic headphones keeping me coddled, safe in my own little, private world. Another world, light-years from Apartheid South Africa. "Makes you feel important and free."

I poured over the gatefold sleeve, soaked up every word, every note, every Orwellian innuendo, wallowing in the Moog, Mellotron, guitars and saxophones. Rebel Rebel in my own bedtime. Like many of his other works, "Diamond Dogs" became indelibly burned into my subconscious, and was also the album that marked the deepening of my voice and the transition to clumsy, shy, introverted adolescence. The journey to manhood would not be a smooth one. But I was in good hands. Bowie struck a chord with the freaks, the outsiders and the alienated. In 1974 he symbolized impossible glamour and an aspiration for the future. He made socially uncomfortable people like me feel cool. Bowie became mine. "Halloween Jack is a real cool cat."

Listening to "Diamond Dogs" this evening with adult ears I'm reminded what a dark piece of work it really is. It certainly isn’t an entry point for Bowie, but an album you love only after you’ve already begun an affair with his music. My music.

So (and at the risk of sounding trite) I lost a piece of myself today. But, hell, I travelled with David Bowie for over four decades and had the privilege of seeing him in concert on four occasions. Over the years his lyrics have become my vocabulary and his songs, milestones in my life. So although the great man may have shuffled off his mortal coil, he will live on in me, forever. He's a part of me. He is me. And I'm grateful.

Diamond Dogs

In mourning, MAlfaRK ©

Monday 11 January 2016

News Guy Wept & Told Us...


06h30 this morning. I was awake. Strange, as I'd only got to bed four hours earlier.

But it was then that the musical soundtrack of the first 55 years of my life came to an end. David Bowie died in New York after an 18 month fight with cancer. A redwood falls. I bought my first Bowie album in 1973 and my last one three days ago. A lifetime, but I never thought of Bowie as being old. He remained current up to the moment of his death.

Although his lasting legacy is to embrace innovation and be yourself, I must admit to copying his hairstyle back in 1972, just to piss off my parents. I still wear a version of that cut today. For four decades I've had a strange little ritual, that involves Bowie. Whenever I buy any new music technology - cassette player, turntable, Walkman, CD player, MP3 player - the fist track that I play is by Bowie. I will continue this personal homage for the rest of my life.

Thank you David Bowie for helping me though all the toughest times of my life, for celebrating all the good times and for always being there for the times in between. You'll never know it, but one dark night you actually saved my life. The world is going to be a more mundane place without you and has lost its creative rudder.

Everything is disjointed. Equilibrium is gone.

Goodbye David, and our youth.

Blackstar

In mourning, MAlfaRK ©