When forming in 1980 in Wood Green, north London, Infa-Riot instantly became the borough’s greatest Oi band by default. Appearing on compilations such as the notorious Strength Thru Oi!, their 1980s career culminated in two albums, Still Out of Order and the somewhat ignored (though probably worth reevaluating) post punk follow-up Sound & Fury. In their prime, Infa-Riot were known as a band that didn’t shy away from playing Rock Against Racism gigs. On one occasion, this stance apparently earned them beatings from Skrewdriver and their enrourage in their dressing room.
Following a hiatus of no less than 26 years, Infa-Riot reemerged in the last decade to record Old and Angry and perform slots at events such as the annual ‘Boot Boys Christmas Knees Up’ at the 100 Club. Here’s Infa-Riot lead vocalist Lee Wilson interviewed by Football Factory author John King, who hardly needs an introduction. Topics discussed included being British, the superior mentality of the British, and how everyone still looks up to the British. Ahem.Continue reading →
God knows how many London music venues have shut down in the past decade. Just off the top of my head, there’s the Astoria, 12 Bar, the new 12 Bar, Buffalo Bar, T Chances, Intrepid Fox, Big Red, Archway Tavern, Metro, Hackney Trash Bar, Silver Bullet, Gossips, and probably many more I can’t remember. While it’s normal that city landscapes change, these places haven’t been replaced by new venues. The music side of London just seems to wither, leaving behind a cultural wasteland populated by yuppies.
Paul Talling probably smelled the coffee a bit earlier than others, for he began taking picures of venues that would soon vanish as early as 2003. His book London’s Lost Music Venues is out today on Damaged Goods Books. Andrew Stevens talked to him – and of course, he was especially curious about the croptop aspects of London’s lost venue history.Continue reading →
How do skinhead girls get involved in the scene? Is it the music, the look, or the culture that grabs their attention first? Surely, the reasons differ – it’s safe to say, though, that football doesn’t tend to be the initial spark. Except when you’re from Genoa and your name is Guendalina Chiari. Our correspondent Francesca Bologna spoke with the long-standing face of the Italian skinhead scene about her football and music recollections from the 1980s-90s. Continue reading →
The sun is setting and the day is late, as they walk over this wasteland of hate. Their music is grimy and raw, just like their natural habitat. But sometimes, they feel the lure of a rather different sound – one that is cool and rational, if somewhat bleak; maybe a bit like the layout of their housing estate. Our guest writer Andrea Napoli, who runs the coldwave label Avant! Records, investigates the missing links between skinhead and post-punk.
When I was 16 or 17, I went through a skinhead phase back in my hometown of Como, a small Northern city in Italy mostly famous for its beautiful lake. However, if you’re into Oi – and I assume you are if you’re reading this – you may also know Como for local bands such as Asociale and Erode.
I don’t remember how exactly I got into it, all I know is that I loved all the proper bands and the outfit was there too: cropped hair, Fred Perry polos, Gazelle trainers, oxblood Harrington jacket.
It only lasted one year, this whole full-package thing. I’ve always been kind of reluctant to buy into a full-on look or uniform, mostly because I felt like it didn’t allow for other sides of my personality to come out. How can one be a skinhead and listen to, say, the Gun Club or Pussy Galore, I wondered? Or Joy Division?Continue reading →
We noticed that we have a few racists, nazis, white nationalists, or whatever they call themselves are following our page and leaving comments. Partly that’s a just fact of life: anything skinhead-related will attract them. We’re also aware that the history of this subculture has always been complicated, and we think we’re doing a decent job accounting for this. We have no intention of spinning fairytales about some harmonious ‘spirit of 69’ past that was suddenly upset when Ian Stuart started singing for the National Front. This past never existed: whether in 1968, 1977 or 1982, there were always skinheads who were bigots, and there were always skinheads who weren’t.
It has also come to our attention that some people think our blog is ‘ambiguous’. It’s true: we don’t run the kind of blog that bombards you with crossed-out swastikas, reminds you every five minutes that “boots & braces don’t make you a racist”, or shouts “nazi” at you because you listen to dodgy bands. When we started the website, we thought there were smarter and funnier ways to make clear where we stand. We also know that life isn’t simply the guys with the white hats vs the guys with the black hats. There are shades of grey in between, and if you think you can steer clear of that ‘greyzone’, good luck with that – the world is a greyzone.
This week we interviewed Philippe Nicolas, who with his band Skinkorps made some poor decisions in the past. We don’t think it’s inadmissible to talk to the impure, and we believe our readers are intelligent enough to form their own opinions without our benign guidance. What’s more, we thought it was fairly clear from our questions where we stand – it’s hardly an interview along the lines of “let’s leave politics out of it, Oi Oi”.
In fact, we’re proud of the interview because we think it helps to illuminate a chapter of 80s French skinhead history. We also think that Philippe is an excellent guy who deserves our friendship. He’s putting his face out there and tells you exactly what he thinks, whether you’re far-right or a so-called ‘antiracist skinhead’ who uses every opportunity to voice his ‘concerns’ about Muslims. If you don’t believe us, visit his Skinkorps Facebook page.
In other words, we’ve been fairly relaxed, and we’ve been moderating our Facebook page with a light touch. We aren’t Stasi types who investigate other people’s friends lists like others comb beaches with metal detectors. But it has occurred to us that maybe our relaxed approach has blurred the lines somewhat – to the point where RAC types think that we should interview their bands, or who remind us that Serge Gainsbourg was “a Jew” when we post something about his hairstyle back in the 60s (as far as we’re concerned, such people aren’t good enough to shine Gainsbourg’s shoes).
So, just to clear things up: all Creases Like Knives contributors lean to the left to varying degrees. We aren’t apolitical, neutral, centre, or right-wing – we’re left-wing. We won’t rub it in your face all the time, but that’s what we are. Moreover, we’re children of the Enlightenment: we believe in people’s ability to reason and in their ability to change. That being said, on our page it’s us who make the rules. We won’t promote stuff that we think is moronic just to prove to a bunch of cretins that we aren’t “snowflakes” or “crybabies”. We couldn’t care less what these people think.
The cue is partly in our choice of interview partners. If your record isn’t squeaky-clean but we believe that you’re a decent person, we’ll talk to you. If you’re ‘ambiguous’, we might talk to you anyway and get to know you. But no, there won’t be any interviews with overt nazis or racists. There will be no pin-up galleries of the fat bassist from Brutal Combat – there are plenty of websites and FB groups for that, and this ain’t one. We won’t interview the new breed of ‘libertarian’ RAC lite garbage – as far as we’re concerned, these guys have nothing interesting to say and their music sucks. We’ll go further: if your sole lyrical concern is whinging about people on benefits, if you only kick down without ever bothering to punch up, you’re free to do that outside – but not in our pages.
If you’re an RAC type reading our blog, fine – maybe you’ll learn something in the end. But be aware that we don’t owe you shit. If that’s a problem, go bother someone else. Attend your crappy festivals with 12 sad old men standing somewhere in a field in the Midlands. Do your own band interviews and share them with your two or three mates. You won’t be missed.
Skinkorps – what’s your take on them? Asking Creases Like Knives contributors and friends, I get a broad range of views. “They had a bad reputation”, says one of them, “and some provocative attitudes too, but probably no interest in politics”. – “Ultimately, they were just a regular Oi band, no different to The Last Resort or 4-Skins”, argues another. – “They were one of the dodgier French 80s bands”, counters a friend. And a French acquaintance adds, “We pretty much take for granted that Skinkorps was a right-wing band”.
Whatever truth – or untruth – to each of these statements, it’s beyond dispute that Skinkorps from Rouen played some of the most bone-crushing Oi of the 80s. A typical Skinkorps song was mid-tempo to sluggish, featured a loud bassline that carried the tune along and a rough vocal with that arrogant, domineering intonation so characteristic of French bands from the period. The lyrics were often humorous, sarcastic, even cynical – too ambiguously so for some tastes.Continue reading →
How many skingirl vocalists can you think of? There were certainly not very many in the 1980s. But in Italy, Lorena Plescia was singing for the original Roman Oi band FUN as early as in 1982. Our new correspondent Francesca Chiari spoke to her about the early Roman skinhead scene.
This is the first of several articles dedicated to women who have left a mark on the skinhead scene of Italy.
Do you remember the days of 2014? The international ‘Oi’ music landscape was awash with overproduced pop/rock garbage, but then Crown Court came along with their aptly titled Trouble From London demo, delivering a sudden, well-aimed kick in the nuts. Tunes like ‘Hammer A Nail’ and ‘B.T.P’ delivered Oi music as it should be: raw, gritty, and oozing the grime of inner-city streets.
Subsequent releases easily lived up to the promise. What’s more, they contained beautiful references to Haringey/Tottenham, north London home to both Crown Court’s vocalist Trevor Taylor and Creases Like Knives. There’s ‘No Paradise’ off the English Disease EP, for instance – an ode to Trevor’s stomping ground near Manor House tube station. Or ‘Sammy Skyves’ off the Capital Offence debut album – a worthy monument to the legendary black lad who was a leading Tottenham Hotspurs bootboy in the 60s.Continue reading →
Farming is the latest skinhead movie, even if it feels more like one from the 80s or 90s. Based on writer-director Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje’s youth – very loosely, I should imagine – it tells the tale of a Nigerian boy named Enitan, who is raised by British white working-class foster parents in Tilbury. The friendless Enitan is brutalised by a gang of racist local skinheads. Since he can’t beat them, he joins them. But his ordeal has only just begun, as he becomes both victim and victimiser. While continuously receiving racist abuse, he doles out beatings to other non-whites in a bid to gain acceptance from his ‘friends’.Continue reading →
Without a doubt, New York’s Templars were the greatest Oi band of the 90s, reinjecting grit, bite and danger into a genre that had been threatening to turn into laid-back ‘street rock’. What the Crypt style lo-fi explosion was to 90s punk rock, the Templars were to Oi. Omne Datum Optimum, although more rock ‘n’ roll and less ‘brickwall’ than their previous efforts, is this editor’s favourite 90s skinhead album.
While remaining close to the street, the Templars have forged their own sound and imagery without flogging too many cliches. Although a self-defined ‘anti-political’ band, their lyrics are often ripe with anger, even despair, at forces beyond our control fucking up our lives: just check out songs such as ‘Situation Critical’ or ‘Waiting For the Blood to Flow’. Ultimately, though, the skinhead ethos of fighting instead of claiming victimhood prevails: ‘Victim’ is probably the single most on-point tune about not wanting to be one.
Enough introductory talk, you all know the Templars anyway. I’m passing the mic to Girth, who had a chat with Sir Phil Templar.
Whatever truth – or untruth – to each of these statements, it’s beyond dispute that Skinkorps from Rouen played some of the most bone-crushing Oi of the 80s. A typical Skinkorps song was mid-tempo to sluggish, featured a loud bassline that carried the tune along and a rough vocal with that arrogant, domineering intonation so characteristic of French bands from the period. The lyrics were often humorous, sarcastic, even cynical – too ambiguously so for some tastes.
Creases Like Knives 