FOR A GENERATION of Dubliners, now in their mid-forties, the news that The Blades are reforming has generated much excitement and anticipation. Not just as an opportunity to recapture days of our youth but because there was always much more to The Blades than great songs and pulsating live performances.
In the same way as a generation of Londoners had The Clash, or Mancunians had The Smiths, The Blades were our band. They sang about our experiences and lives. The Blades were the quintessential Eighties Dublin band.
Formed in Ringsend in 1977 by brothers Paul and Lar Cleary, the band’s debut gig in the local CYMS hall was abruptly ended when the band did a cover version of The Sex Pistols’ “God Save the Queen” – the organisers thought it was the British national anthem.
Starting in 1980, The Blades released a series of singles; the first five of which Dave Fanning has described as the best debut singles by any band.
The pinnacle of these recordings is Downmarket , highlighting Paul Cleary’s writing ability in combining an iconic guitar riff, with an infectious chorus and lyrics that capture the frustrated greyness of Dublin in 1983:
I suppose I can’t be choosy, when there’s not too many choicesWith the problems of the nation
I’m not waiting at an airport
I’m not waiting at a station
I’m standing at a bus-stop,
Downmarket.
However, Cleary’s perspective on Dublin life, and particularly working class life, was much broader. Throughout his song-writing he pulls at the hypocrisy of politicians and the Catholic Church. The Bride Wore White is a kitchen sink drama of a song, where “he hopes” and “she thinks” there’s no danger in not taking precautions. This was an Ireland where condoms were prohibited due to Church influence.
Nine months later a stranger arrives and the drama is complete when “he drinks” and “she shows no resistance”.
After The Blades split in 1986, Cleary released a solo single Dublin City Town drawing on these themes. He starts by affirming that the unemployed are not to blame for the lack of jobs. Instead the problem lies with over-paid, careerist politicians; before highlighting the
Irish solutions to our social and economic problems.
In a striking parallel with current issues he asks: “How many young girls, just out of school / Are forced to taking the slow boat to Liverpool?” Quickly followed by “We’ve a liquid black solution / To a dodgy constitution”.
The Blades’ music is heavily influenced by Black American music, particularly classic Sixties soul. From 1984 onwards a favourite part of the set was the cover version of Nina Simone’s song Young, Gifted and Black with the audience counting in the brass at the start of the song. The positive reaction by an overwhelmingly white audience, most of whom had never met a black person, was always intriguing.
Yet we identified with the sentiments in the song; in part because of the connection with the US civil rights movement and because we were singing “Free Nelson Mandela”. But it was events closer to home with the Dunnes Stores strikers – sacked for upholding their union’s policy of boycotting goods from apartheid South Africa – that highlighted how political messages and music can be a potent mix.
Cleary was not preachy or moralistic but matter of fact about this. In one live recording almost as an afterthought, just before they played “Young, Gifted and Black”, he says ‘it goes without saying, don’t be a moron and don’t cross the picket line at Dunnes Stores’.
At the heart of Cleary’s song-writing is a class-consciousness and willingness to side with the marginalised. Throughout the 1980s The Blades played benefit gigs for various campaigns, including at Mountjoy jail. Yet, when it came to the biggest “benefit gig” in Ireland, Cleary refused to play.
In 1986 Self Aid, was conceived as a charity concert (like Live Aid) but with Ireland’s unemployed as the beneficiaries. The Blades had released their debut album in 1985 and a slot on the bill that included everyone from U2 to The Chieftains could have lifted the band onto a new level. However, Paul Cleary refused to join the party. He later explained it was a “gut reaction” to bringing unemployment into the realm of charity.
“I was afraid … that kids would be going round with buckets saying ‘a penny for the unemployed’’, and the premise of Self Aid was patronising to those out of work”. Instead, The Blades played the “Rock the System” concert at Liberty Hall in the same year.
Cleary carried these concerns into The Partisans, formed in 1986, where his song-writing is as politically sharp; even anticipating the marginalisation of class as a framing for mainstream discourse. In the song Partisan, Cleary justifies his actions as a partisan that Doesn’t want his class dismissed: “That’s why I fight a losing fight / That’s why I know my left from right / It’s just the way I am”.
All this leads to the question a young Billy Bragg posed – what’s the use in mixing pop and politics? Bragg’s answer, in the song, was a combination of embarrassment and excuses. In contrast, Paul Cleary was unambiguous, there were fights to be fought over unemployment, the right to choose, corrupt politicians, poverty and inequality.
So, on 13th December many will just enjoy the music and be reminded of their younger days. Some may reflect on how they felt about the world then and others re-affirm beliefs formed in their youth that they still hold dear. Irrespective of the audience reactions, many of the lyrics on the night will be as relevant to post-Celtic Tiger Ireland as they were thirty years earlier.
Stewart Smyth works at Queen’s University, Belfast where he researches public housing and social movements. He is a life-long Blades’ fan.
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