To many in the early Eighties, The Style Council and Billy Bragg were the first musicians to prompt an awareness of politics, particularly that of the left. And while the ill-fated yet well-intentioned Red Wedge project may have dented Paul Weller's belief that political pop can change things, Sir William Bragg of Barking has stuck nobly to his guns.
Margaret Thatcher may have been ousted a lifetime ago and Bragg may be preaching to a long since converted audience of thirty/fortysomething parents but he's still sparking on all cylinders. And while some of us tonight may wince at the man's -now a dad himself- between song rants about social and political injustice, it's because we're embarrassed that, in the daily grind of work-debt-beer-telly-sleep, we've forgotten our teenage ideals.
Part of the reason we go to Billy Bragg gigs these days is to prick the conscience, to nudge the memory, to feel as though we'd man the barricades once again. The main reason we're here though is that he remains one of this country's finest singer/songwriters - equally at home with affairs of the heart as he is politics- and a consummate entertainer, capable of warmth, wit and telling a good story.
Tonight Bragg and his Blokes play a selection of Woody Guthrie songs as featured on his 'Mermaid Avenue' collaborations with Chicago's alt-country outfit Wilco - long lost, un-used Guthrie lyrics which Bragg and Wilco wrote music for. They also dish up old favourites and new songs from an as yet unrecorded Bragg album which he reckons is tentatively titled 'There Ain't Nobody Who Can Sing Like Me'.
Things kick off with a fleshed out rendition of 'Milkman Of Human Kindness' - one of the finest, most tender love songs ever penned - and proof that Bragg's voice has gone from a gruff bark to plaintive soul tones over the last fifteen years. Another fine example of the Bragg love song is 'Price I Pay' from 1988's 'Worker's Playtime'. Introduced as a "critique of the capitalist system" this once gentle ballad is cranked up into a northern soul style stomp.
Brandishing a typically English cup of tea - tea-bag still bobbing around inside- Bragg introduces new song 'England Half English' - a jaunty, Ian Dury-esque celebration of a multi-cultural England- with the line "from Morris dancing to Morrissey." England's very own Woody meanwhile, runs through a robust version of Guthrie's 'All You Fascists' - taken from 'Mermaid Avenue II'. This is followed by Bragg's attempt to reclaim the two-day weekend with glorious new song 'Saint Monday'.
The miners strike may be long gone but 'Between The Wars' has lost none of its lump-in-the-throat potency, while a new song featuring the character "Dread Belly" is another Ian Dury-tinged music hall knees-up. 'Greetings To The New Brunette' is followed by the dripping country of Guthrie's gorgeous 'California Stars' and upbeat oldie 'New England', Bragg seemingly having a dig at The Smiths with the line "heaven knows I'm underpaid now".
The encore finds Mr Bragg as nature intended. One lone troubadour and his guitar, the Blokes - including ex-Small Faces and Faces organist Ian McLagan- taking a well earned breather. 'Myth Of Trust' and the tear-jerking 'Levi Stubbs' Tears' get an airing, before Bragg joined by his bassist for another new song 'Tears Of My Tracks' the sad tale of a man forced to sell his vinyl collection, sung in the sweetest of Smokey soul falsettos.
The band reconvenes for the Smiths-like celebratory breeze of 'Sexuality', before comedian Phil Jupitus joins them for 'Bestiality', a cleverly re-worded chortle of a showstopper, rhyming the like of 'badger' with 'tadger'.
During the show tonight Bragg referred to his music as organic and spoke of his hopes that in years to come it will be the sort of music rediscovered and appreciated by the young, far away from the triviality of the charts and those dreaded boy bands. Oh to be that teenager at a car boot sale thirty years from now, picking up a battered copy of 'Life's A Riot' for fifty pence. To start all over again….
IMAGES: HAYLEY MADDEN
