In 2017 I unexpectedly fell on hard times and had to take on a second job fast. It was a shit job, frankly, but one that had me walking all over London for long hours. By the end, I knew London’s streets, alleys, and corners, its whole geography, better than ever.
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Following our recent article on the mysteries of rude boy fashion, we decided to dig a little deeper. While searching for material on rude boys in general, we found a 2006 piece that struck us as the best primer we’d come aross. Ironically, it wasn’t written in Britain – let alone Jamaica – but by a self-described ska fanatic from Italy, Sergio Rallo, for Skabadip.it. That site was a direct offshoot of Skabadip.com, the first Italian website devoted to ska and related genres, founded by Alessandro Melazzini.
A couple of notes before we begin. First, bear in mind that this piece appeared 23 years ago, and new information may have emerged since. Second, in Italian the term ‘rude’ is used much more freely than in English, referring to a broader attitude and scene rather than to rude boys in the strict sense. For example, Italian skinhead bars where reggae and Oi are played are known as ‘rude bars’ – the Sally Brown in Rome and the Bluebeat in Lecce being notable examples. Hence, towards the end of his article, the author applies the term ‘rude’ to all manner of things. What follows is our translation of Rallo’s piece:
Some time ago, a devoted reader of SkabadiP wrote to me asking about rude boys. He wanted to know what they were really like, what they thought, what their lifestyle was like and if they had a philosophy. As usual, I replied at length, within the limits of what I know. However, I also made the mistake of forwarding my email to Alessandro, the boss, who immediately seized the chance to order me to tidy up my reply so he could turn it into a nice little article for SkabadiP, that fine purveyor of ska culture – probably just to satisfy his own mischievous curiosity. After adding some more information following further research, here’s my article:
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Our mate Jabari Adisa, aka Corky Boxcutter from Chicago, has recently published his first book, Jackpot: The Dread Skinhead. He also commented on our article about the rude boy style, and we think his take is worth sharing as a standalone piece:
“A few thoughts.
1. Rude Boy has always been a counter-culture and not a subculture. Rude Boys in both Jamaica and in England were a scorned, distrusted class (as you correctly call out in regards to the music), but at a certain point, being a rude youth became a badge of courage / defiance, a culture of resistance onto itself. That’s when you start to see ‘Rudie don’t fear’ and other pro-rude, proud rude tunes. And by the time Rhygin comes along, it’s a legitimate mentality.
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When the picture below popped up on social media, some commented that it showed a bloke called Bubbles and his crew from Brixton. Apparently, it was taken circa 1968/69 at the top of Granville Arcade (now known as Brixton Village), which is located at the junction of Coldharbour Lane and Atlantic Road. I liked the photo, but I couldn’t tell whether this lot were rude boys, skinheads, or neither. Clothes-wise, nothing strays too far from the original skinhead look.
Then it occurred to me that, although rude boys are mythologised in reggae songs and often mentioned in passing in retrospective accounts of the original skinhead era, they remain photographically under-documented – which explains my considerable ignorance of their style, and why I can’t really place the lads in the picture.
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Paul Burnley: Skinhead Diaries 1980–1986. A Coming of Rage Story
This book is the first part of the autobiography of Paul Burnley – in reality Paul Bellany, son of the famous painter John Bellany. As most readers will know, Burnley was briefly the vocalist of the National Front skinhead band Public Enemy from Maidstone, and later the singer of the London-based No Remorse – one of the most self-consciously extreme nazi bands on the Blood & Honour scene. This volume, however, covers his teenage years before he joined No Remorse – roughly 1980 to 1986 – when he became a ‘rudeboy’ and then a skinhead, quickly drifting to the far right under the influence of his mates and various formative experiences.
Skinhead Diaries is self-published through Amazon, so much of the dosh is going straight into Burnley’s pockets. You may ask why I handed over my cash for the book, and why I’m helping promote it on this blog? To answer the first question, curiosity got the better of me. All things considered, I found it unlikely that my money would go on to fund some far-right terror cell. More plausibly, I’d be buying a retired ex-nazi a few pints. If that makes me morally complicit, so be it.[1]
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Readers will remember my exhaustive interview about the Polish skinhead scene of the ’80s and early ’90s, and this anthology, published by Bad Look Records of Warsaw (more specifically, Warsaw-Służewiec, which also happens to be the neighbourhood of my childhood), more or less picks up where that interview left off. It contains all issues of the Warsaw skinzine Przepraszam, czy tu biją?, which translates as ‘Excuse me, do they beat up people here?’ and ran from 1994 to 1997 – five issues in total.
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The trusty MA-1 flight jacket is somewhat reviled among the more self-consciously ‘traditional’ elements of the skinhead scene and even associated with ‘boneheads’ by some. This is because it became ubiquitous on the scene especially from around 1982 onward – the United Skins era and after. But, as we will see, it was present throughout skinhead history, with the earliest photographic evidence dating to 1969. Without a doubt, it’s also a timeless piece of gear, oozing tough, functional USAF pilot cool, which many early skins wanted to emulate at least to a degree.
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I never thought we’d end up mentioning Billy Idol on Creases Like Knives, but here we are – he references skinheads on his new single ‘Still Dancing’, released a couple of weeks ago. The third verse goes:
Skinheads stomp
Right down the road
Teddy Boys stood
Clutching their combs
Reggae blitz rock
Deep to the core
In Brixton
Punks trying to riot
Up on the high street
Causing a ruckus
Who wants to fight me?
Pogo slam
No need to remind me
Before the year draws to an end, let me squeeze in just a few reviews, mostly of records that people have sent or handed me in recent months. We’re still in no danger of ever becoming a ‘professional’ publication – as always, some of these good folks have been waiting for months to get their stuff reviewed. I hope they still appreciate the thoroughness and sincerity I’ve tried to put into these write-ups. Many thanks to Timebomb Records, Un Vie Pour Rien, Hellnation, Magura, Golpe de Gracia, and Manufaktura Legenda! All reviews by me this time.
Matt Crombieboy
Dirty Job: The World’s Decay LP
(Timebomb Records / Hellnation / Subculture for Life)
One thing straight away: this is my favourite Oi album of 2024, and it hit me somewhat by surprise – even though I’ve been following the band’s activities from quite early on. Formed in the Milan area by members of bands such as Ostile and, formerly, Brutti e Ignoranti and Stanley, they first landed in my adopted hometown of Bologna in February 2023, playing at the Forever Ultras’ clubhouse. They immediately stood out from the majority of young Italian Oi bands by maintaining a certain skinhead orthodoxy, both in sound and appearance, rather than dissolving it into ‘ultras rock ’n’ roll’ or coming off as just ‘random tattooed dudes playing street rock’. The music struck me as harder than most of their peers – not faster or heavier, but harder – and disciplined to the point of feeling almost a little militaristic. Ancient ‘war Oi’ like Vengeance sprung to mind.
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Rip Off from Bologna are mainly known for one fateful event today: their performance at the Certaldo Oi festival in 1983, which became notorious as the ‘Italian Southall’. Vocalist Rozzi delivered a speech threatening to “hang the punks and the communists”, while two members of Rip Off’s crew stood on stage giving fascist salutes. All hell broke loose in the crowd. The whole night turned into one continuous mass brawl, and in the aftermath, Oi bands in Italy struggled to get gigs for years.
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Creases Like Knives 