The List/Punk Rock Revival/John Cooper Clarke

The following article is extracted - without permission - from the 'The List' magazine in Scotland. We hope they don't mind. If they do, we'll remove it. But our hat is off to them for commissioning the exclusive poem which follows it...

REFRIED PUNK

Punk's poet laureate John Cooper Clarke used to be a mortuary attendant - and indeed still looks like a particularly distressed member of the profession who has been dragged backwards through a cat fight after a heavy evening of snorting industrial strength white powders. While his wasted looks and dress sense are an integral part of the Clarke experience, he will be remembered for the nasal whine of his street - smart poetry when, God forbid, he himself is pushing up daisies.

Clarke first penetrated the public consciousness with the punk explosion of 1976. The fact that he was the warm-up man for the Buzzcocks and The Fall without being ripped to bloody rags is adequate testimony to the power of the bitingly funny yet eloquent poems. Clarke showed a generation that poetry could be rebellious while sharing the same concerns and speaking the same language as the man in the street. Middle age hasn't dulled is tongue nor wit.

An exclusive poem written for The List

PUNK ROCK REVIVAL

By John Cooper Clarke

the rip-off riff's authentic ring
a singer who can't really sing
can only mean one fucking thing
punk rock revival

affect the look of a man obsessed
predisposed to the predistressed
now you know you're properly dressed
punk rock revival

wear your hair the wrong way round
spike it up in a vaseline crown
button up your button down
punk rock revival

PVC and nylon fur
and D-rings are de rigeur
the way we are is the way we were
punk rock revival