From the sublime… On Beauty, Eloquence, Grit and Resilience

Trivium 21c


… to 1977.

The filth and the fury… Never mind the bollocksed grey seventies, the two glorious summers of 76 and 77 did not sate my teenage angst. Sex and Pistol were frightening a whole nation and bringing it to its knees. Little did we know that the bastions of the establishment: the church, media, army, police and politics were getting up to no good behind their net curtains, we just opposed them because there was the sniff of something rotten in the State of the UK. And it wasn’t Johnny. In 1977 many teenagers were becoming no-good boyos and girlos just through a little choice made in a record shop. Saturday Night Fever? No. Bat out of Hell? No. Abba? Hell no. The one band that did it for sheer visceral excitement were the dangerously dayglo Jamie Reeded Pistols with punk’s finest explosion. I caught a glimpse of something greater, later…

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