Bermondsey Joyriders

It’s Friday night at the Brixton Jamm, and I’m scheduled to interview the Bermondsey Joyriders – a band I’ve heard a fair bit about but have yet to experience in the flesh. Little do I know what’s in store for me!

Because this is no ordinary Friday night but the opening of the Olympic Games, I’m almost an hour late thanks to widespread travel chaos across the capital. I needn’t have worried, however, for hardly anyone else seems around as I finally arrive at the venue. Wandering about the two stage rooms and the terrace area, I can’t even spot the PR, never mind the band. Another drink later, and I discover Joyriders bassist Martin Stacey in a dark corner of the main stage room. My god, he really is dressed just like he is on the album cover! I introduce myself and stammer some excuses about the presumably botched interview. He looks at me as if I’m from another planet. To be fair, with my foreign accent, bowler hat and ‘Clockwork Orange’ inspired make-up, I can’t exactly blame him. Martin mumbles something about “We’re all late” and then takes me outside in the hope that we find other half Gary Lammin - but no such luck. Suddenly, out of the blue, he appears on the venue’s balcony – seemingly oblivious to what’s going on. “Gary, interview!! Come down! Gary, Gaaary!” Martin yells and waves frantically as if I was holding a pistol at his neck. I try to keep a straight face. Minutes later, Gary (my god, he is dressed even more outrageous than he is on the album cover!) greets me with a broad smile (and in broadest Cockney) and suggests we get down to business in the VIP area. Meanwhile, Martin lingers about in another corner of the divided room, keeping well away from any possible peril of my questions. I can’t help but thinking that this is like a Marx Brothers sketch!

Music-News:
Gary, the new Joyriders album is titled ‘Noise And Revolution’… Unfortunately, that doesn’t apply to the majority of the current music scene… How much noisier need bands like you get to shake things up?

Gary Lammin:
The most important time for me in music was when I was learning to play guitar in 1971/72. That time really influenced me and I think I was really fortunate, because back then, music meant so much to everybody. I was talking to Martin earlier today and we were reminiscing about how you would queue up at half past eight in the morning outside a record shop, just so you could say you were the first kid in your school to have the new Stones album, or something like that. And that kinda thing don’t happen no more, you know. In some ways the Internet and downloading has been good, but we lost so much because of that. One of the things we’ve lost is the ability to identify with stuff that’s essential, and rock ‘n’ roll should always be essential! In the 1970’s, an album wasn’t just an album; it was a piece of art. There was a real vitality to it and that’s what we’re trying to do with ‘Noise And Revolution’.

MN:
Obviously, your music is steeped in roots and punkitude but there’s a real message in your lyrics, too. Yet, compared to the 70’s anti-Thatcher / anti-establishment riots, last year’s riots merely descended into a “Let’s destroy and plunder” orgy. Where did the new generation go wrong?

GL:
Every generation goes wrong in exactly the same way. They begin to trust people. They’re able to ask questions - and you must always ask questions – but eventually they stop asking questions about who and what they accept. But doing that is not really the answer to get what you want. In a general strike, the government says “Look, I tell you what: go back to work and we’ll make sure that all you’re saying will be heard.” And of course as soon as everybody goes back to work, nothing gets done! And then you’ve broken the revolution because you can bring the people so far, but then it’s very difficult to bring that emphasis back again once you’ve lost it. So you got to keep asking questions, and make sure that the answers are the answers that you want. You know, advertising tells us that we need the latest mobile phone or the latest colour TV, but maybe that’s not what we want. Maybe we want something else. That’s where the Bermondsey Joyriders are at the moment in their thought process.

MN:
Former MC5 manager and poet John Sinclair narrates on your album, but it was John Brett of Bamalama Posters, London, who introduced Sinclair to you in the first place. How did that come about?

GL:
When the Bermondsey Joyriders first went to America, we decided that our template for the tour was gonna be the MC5 and that every single gig was gonna be dedicated to them. At some point in time we started to watch MC5 related DVDs and videos, and we became very aware of John Sinclair. I said to Martin “We need to get in touch with Sinclair”. Whilst we were in the States, we’ve done a fifteen-and-a-half thousand miles tour and we’ve tried desperately to get in touch with Sinclair, but it never happened. So when I returned to London, John Brett had left a message on my answer machine on the day that I was flying back, saying “Gary, we really would like a slide guitar player tonight at Bamalama Poster Shop, John Sinclair will be there reading some of his poetry!” Wow! I’ve spent three-and-a-half months in the States trying to find Sinclair, and then John Brett – one of my oldest friends – leaves a message and tells me exactly where to find him! Anyway, I went down there and it went very well. You know, Claudia, I had this idea for the ‘Noise And Revolution’ album for so many years, the idea of having some narration in between the tracks. And I never put it forward, because I had to find the right person. But because me playing the slide guitar for John went so well, one day I approached him and said “I got a little idea” and I told him about the concept for ‘Noise…’ John replied, “Show me some of the narration” and then he looked at me and said, “Did you write this?” and I went “Yeah”. Then he said “Hey, it’s pretty f*****g damn good, let’s do it!” So bit by bit we put it together.

MN:
As you know, tonight is the Olympic opening ceremony, with hundreds of volunteers participating who won’t get paid a penny for their work and time. On the other hand, a serious amount of corporate money has been injected in the whole project. What do you have to say?

GL:
There are quite a few things that have raised my eyebrow. First of all we were told that a lot of stuff will go to local industries and that kind of thing, and then we see – surprise surprise – McDonalds are everywhere! The poster that really upsets me is ‘Move to the beat of Britain – Coca Cola’! Move to the beat of Britain… Coca Cola?! And there are a couple of other things, too. Ok, let’s talk about the good stuff. It’s always great to get people from different cultures coming together, you know. Yet, the core idea, the spirit of the Olympics, is taken over by the corporate mindset. Then they get Ryan Giggs, but he’s a professional. I thought the Olympics were about highly inspired, excellent physical athletes. I also remember that one of the old ethics of the Olympics was ‘no advertising and no logos’. I think the people who criticise the Olympics are right to criticise the Olympics. I mean, there are no local catering firms involved, it’s McDonalds, it’s Coca Cola… And it’s Ryan Giggs - who is a millionaire. I just think that it’s all a real shame.

MN:
With so many iconic music venues closing down, how come the Bermondsey Joyriders haven’t opened their own co-operative café venue yet - allowing worthy but struggling bands and artists to express themselves creatively?

GL:
We are getting a name for ourselves, you know, but we are not powerful enough at this point in time to do what you are suggesting. Mick Jones of The Clash could do that, no problem, but not us. At least not yet.

MN:
Both you and Martin hold an impressive rock ‘n’ roll pedigree, but despite it you still haven’t been offered the big deal. If you had it, would you earn to give to the poor so to speak, or would you indulge in a high-end rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle?

GL:
No, we don’t have the big deal yet but we hope that ‘Noise And Revolution’ might change that. As for how we would handle high earnings… hold on… this is a question for Martin.

Gary gets up to fetch the second Joyrider. “Martin… Come here. Martin! This is Claudia, and she’s asking some bright questions. Claudia wants to know what our reaction would be if a big corporate company came in and offered us the opportunity to earn lots of money with our music.”
Martin: “What company is it?”
Gary: “It’s no company! It’s a hypothetical question she’s asking!”
Martin (slightly turning his head into my direction and politely obliging): “Yes, we have discussed this, and we’re against the whole corporatisation process. We would take the money as long as they gave the same amount of money we produce for a just cause.” A brief pause is followed by another pause. “We can work with them…” Martin continues but then stops halfway. By beat them at their own game? I suggest, in an attempt to complete the sentence. “Yes” is the prompt reply, “maybe we can use the joint money for a joint purpose and do something together.” After this truly enlightening explanation, the word-shy Martin Stacey smiles at me politely and heads direction exit.
Triumphantly, as if he’d just managed to master an incredibly tricky circus act, Gary remarks: “You can see why Martin is the right person to answer your question, Claudia.” Indeed.

After this somewhat comical and truly Brechtian interlude, I feel that perhaps something more light-hearted wouldn’t be out of place.

MN:
Gary, I haven’t seen mutton chops like that since the days of Noddy Holder and Alvin Stardust. Same goes for Martin. What’s with your steam punk look?

GL:
Music journalist Charles Shaar Murrey sometimes stands in and does narration for us when John Sinclair is not around, and he said what you just said… that the sideburns were reminiscent of Noddy Holder. Murray called us ‘psychedelic characters out of Charles Dickens’! As I mentioned before, my time was the 1970s and you know, the look is a suggestion of it.

Steadily, the room is filling with other bands and assorted hangers-on – cranking up the noise levels. I decide to call it a wrap and thank Gary for his interview time. Thirsty, I inspect the rider situation – only to learn the hard way that ‘VIP area’ doesn’t necessarily mean free drinks. What has the world come to? Blast me, but some corporate sponsorship would come in handy right now… as long as it ain’t Coca Cola…