Typical Girls? The Story of the Slits

Zoë Street Howe
Omnibus Press
Legendary as first-wave punks and pioneering women, yet largely ignored by the myriad punk histories over the decades, The Slits finally get their bio as the 30th anniversary of their debut album, Cut, approaches.

Hanging her book on this peg, Street Howe (see pic) gives a very abridged back story to the album and also pretty much fast-forwards through everything after the band broke up, but the golden years of 1976-81 are given their due, with an array of funny, insightful anecdotes from a range of colourful characters such as Don Letts, Keith Levene and Vivien Goldman about what it was like being around the Slits in that heady time when the world was introduced to what would become known as punk.

This then branched off into the infinitely more interesting post-punk, with its reach into the diaspora of reggae, dub, experimental noise, art rock and all of the "waves". The Slits were there through all of it and were still evolving when they broke up at the end of '81. The book includes interviews with band members Viv Albertine, Ari Up, Tessa Pollitt and Palmolive, and also some of the ones who left early on, such as Kate Corris.

Told in a rather breathless, golly, gee-whiz style, the book lacks a solid social and political context for The Slits' story. It is also peppered with dismissive phrases such as "die-hard Women's Libbers", a phrase I haven't heard in about 25 years.

This anti-feminist thread is backed up by Street Howe's comment in The Quietus: "I loved their strange, funny, experimental sound and look, and was inspired by, from what I'd read in the odd interview, their refusal to label themselves 'feminist', or even 'punk'."

Why is this inspiring? What is wrong with aligning oneself to a group or movement? Surely this is exactly what the Slits did: they called themselves a gang or a tribe and were close-knit. Ari Up has long referred to being part of a "revolution". Surely one cannot have a revolution without acting in tandem.

Strange, really, because, when I met the author recently, she said she identifies as a feminist, but she was at pains to illustrate that The Slits didn't want to be categorised.

Ironic, then, because the memory of The Slits has largely been kept alive by underground women's movements such as Riot Grrrl and Ladyfest (the Manchester event hosted the re-formed band) which are avowedly feminist and see the value of standing together in the face of continuing misogyny.

But if The Slits baulked at being adherents to a movement, their sense of being independent and in control of their work has certainly been picked up by thoughtful and adventurous souls in the intervening years.

It is unfortunate that the book uses the word "seminal", a word whose etymology is linked to semen, to describe The Slits. But the band is extraordinary, their legacy impressive and their story well worth telling.

Viv Albertine at Cafe Oto

Cafe Oto
10 June

Ah, sunny Dalston. How well I remember it from days of yore: squatting in a house with no heating, collecting wood from the skip next door, boarding up smashed windows...

So, no Tube strike or distraction of international football could keep me from returning to my spiritual home for a gig by former Slits guitarist Viv Albertine. Out of the public eye for a number of years, she only returned last year for a measly two gigs with the re-formed (but hardly reformed) Slits before deciding life as part of Ari Up's backing band was not for her.

Happily, the experience did get her playing her trusty Telecaster and writing some new sweet-sour pop songs. Yes, pop. No snarling punk rawkness was on show here. Just Viv, guitar in hand, keyboardist (and author) Zoë Street Howe and pianist Steve Beresford. The set was short, sweet and, save a nasty smack in the mouth on her mic, without undue incident. In the house were old muckers The Raincoats and Tessa Pollitt, as well as other "I-was-there-in-'77" stalwarts mixed in with the jazzheads who'd come to see the other acts on the bill.

Love und Romance still seem to be preoccupations for Albertine, as she declared, "This is really depressing. I don't believe in love anymore" while introducing "Don't Believe/In Love". Other titles included "The False Heart" and "If Love", which worms into the brain with its "la-la-la-la" refrain.

There was a bratty, nursery rhyme quality to the lyrics which sat happily with her rhythmic strumming style. Perhaps a bit sedate for the old guard but everyone has to grow up.

23rd London Lesbian and Gay Film Festival: an organic otherness

A quick recap of the first few days of the festival, which I've only been able to attend sporadically so far.

Opening night on Wednesday featured Karin Babinska's debut Pusinky (Dolls), a road-buddy-teen melodrama of three Czech teenaged girls' disintegrating relationships as they hitch-hike to the promised land of Holland for some summer work. Betrayal, sexual awakening, rivalries, suicide attempts. I felt I'd seen it all before. Indeed, the set-up and events reminded me very much of two films I've viewed in the last six months: the Russian drama Everybody Dies but Me and the German film Beautiful Bitch.

As such, the film felt like a throwback to the bad old days when coming out as a lesbian was treated with a lot of hysterical hand-wringing. And why is it de rigueur in every coming-of-age drama for female friendships to be cast aside? A strange choice for an opening night film. On the plus side, I did snaffle several free chocolate bars laid out between the seats.

Last night I attended the much-anticipated premiere of the Raincoats doc, with added Q and A and live performance. Quite an ambitious undertaking and largely successful, with one big proviso.

Directed by bassist Gina Birch, the Raincoats film (still not sure of the title) combines brilliant archival material from the band's beginnings in the throes of '70s punk with interviews with band members and admirers including Geoff Travis, Chicks on Speed, Peaches and David Thomas of Pere Ubu. The latter's comments, delivered through shut eyes, were amusing, even if he did appear to suggest that they had no memorable songs. He also said something about "an organic otherness" that rang true in unexpected ways.

Among those in the audience were interviewees Viv Albertine of The Slits, just now getting some new material out, and Jane Woodgate of The Mo-Dettes, now establishing herself as a sculptor. Where have all you original punk women been, I asked Viv. "I don't know", she said, before adding that now seems a good time to get back in, as it reminded her of the punk times.

There was so much love in the room. And when a four-piece version of the Raincoats took to the stage, it was to a very supportive hometown crowd. Every cocked up note and false start was greeted with an appreciative cheer. "You are getting the full Raincoats experience" cracked Gina.

Still, I left troubled. You see, while it was delightful to see this band get its due, VERY, VERY late in the day, and while I enjoyed the atmosphere and the gig rocked, what stayed with me was what wasn't said: where was the queer content? Why, at a lesbian and gay film festival, with a panel of mostly lesbians, was there no mention of the L word? Why does this still happen in 2009? I left feeling as if we really had returned to the dark ages, when these things just weren't spoken about and lesbians were invisible. Like the film, a work in progress.

Slits Reunion

The news that the re-formed Slits are performing at this weekend's Ladyfest Manchester marks a coup for the festival. I am a bit envious. I saw a version of The Slits back in 2004 but didn't really feel it qualified, as singer Ari Up was the only original member and had brought a group of New York session musicians over to London for the gig.

This lineup, however, includes Ari Up, bassist Tessa Pollitt and guitarist Viv Albertine, and so is truly worthy of the name. I never thought it would happen. When I interviewed Albertine in 1996, I asked her about a possible reunion. This is an excerpt from an article I wrote for Scene Update in 1997:

Obviously, the world needs The Slits, but would they ever re-form? Viv doubts it. “Tessa [Pollitt] reckons we should do it when we’re 65. Little old ladies. That is very Slits, actually, to be really old and do it. That’ll look great with the guitars” she says, cackling. “Fantastic.”

So, they are early by a good number of years! The Slits will also play in London on 3 December.