A Short History of Crass

Crass emerged out of an Epping commune led by drummer Penny Rimbaud and vocalist Steve Ignorant, sometime in 1977. They picked up vocalists Eve Libertine and Joy De Vivre, guitarists Phil Free and B.A. Nana, and bassist Pete Wright (a made-up name - surely?) along the way but never really considered themselves to be a band. They weren't rock'n'roll and they certainly weren't punk. Rimbaud in particular criticized the Sex Pistols for ripping off their fans, and the Clash for selling out. They had no time for 'blank generations' and ironic appropriation of iconic signifiers. Crass made records to reinforce their political position and not for the music or the art of it. Crass were quite simply 'no fun'.

The early gigs took place at Conway Hall in London and featured some very poor playing but some inspirational sloganeering, influencing a new generation of punk bands with something to say. On record, the music was discordant, white noise guitar, relentless one-string bass, bashed drums, and spoken or shouted words over the top of it all. At various times on the first album 'Feeding Of The 5000', there are digs at the prevailing punk industry, notably 'Banned From The Roxy' and on the follow-up 'Stations Of The Crass' there's the industry-baiting 'Hurry Up Garry' and 'White Punks On Hope'. Crass liked the idea of punk in essence, but were concerned about its potential for corporate co-option into a new mainstream.

'Penis Envy' is probably their most musical moment where Pete Wright's bass guitar comes into its own and there's added wah-wah guitar and church organ for textural variety. Libertine and De Vivre handle the vocals on the album, with Steve Ignorant nowhere to be seen. Without him they are less committed to their direct and tyrannically rhythmic beat, more able to be musical, an approach which was continued on 'Christ - The Album' on his return. But Crass's real place in history hangs on their direct action and use of music as ideological soundtrack.

In 1979, 'Reality Asylum' was judged criminally blasphemous, for which they were arrested, and 'Penis Envy' was put before judicial review and pronounced obscene. In 1982 the Thatcher-baiting 'How Does It Feel To Be The Mother of a 1000 Dead?' had the xenophobic British tabloid media proclaiming them sick traitors, and was followed in 1983 by the 'Thatchergate tape' which, with clever editing, created a phone conversation between Reagan and Thatcher where she admitted to sinking the General Belgrano (Argentine Ship) while he threatened to nuke Europe.

In all, there were five albums on their own Crass Records label, none of which make particularly enjoyable listening, but then that wasn't really the point. And anyway, the joy of consuming Crass was not musical, it was about feeling the injustice and empathizing with it through the passion and spirit coming from the records. 'Feeding Of The 5000' is so brutal that, compared with other punk records of the time, it remains fresh and untarnished by the mythology that has grown up around the period.

Along with like-minded signings Flux of Pink Indians, Crass told us about corporate malpractice, governmental hypocrisy, societal sexism and racism, and more specifically documented personal perspectives on sexual abuse and injustice. The 'Penis Envy' album in particular stands the test of time, transcending the punk moment and perhaps meaning more in contemporary reality of a flawed society that it ever did as a piece of punk iconography. Crass could have made films, published articles or robbed banks, but they chose music as their medium of expression, and pointed out some of the inadequacies of its contextual infrastructure in the process. That helped.