The Spinster's Exploits

I was deeply uncool in my youth. Unlike some of my best friends, I did not go to amazing gigs and damage my eardrums by being too close to the speakers at concerts. I missed most of the bands that came to Cardiff and only embraced many of my favourite ones in later years.

I remember punk as weird, and was cynical about the mohawks and safety pins and saw them as tourist fodder on London postcards and photo opportunities. I was passingly amused by the peaches on the beaches and the Sex Pistols’ Jubilee “celebration” of “God Save the Queen”. And that was about it.

It seems Punk is still going strong and there is a huge celebration/event somewhere today that set me thinking. I was pretty sure I saw Siouxsie and the Banshees in Cardiff Top Rank! And amazingly – I did! I went with a cooler friend and felt like a tourist and remember watching all the punks going wild from an upper balcony. I remember that she looked amazing, sang powerfully and gave dire warnings to anyone even thinking of spitting at her! I guess spitting was a tribute too far…

My suspicions of my own memories is because I think of punk as something that came along when I was older, and not part of my cultural heritage! Siousxie went Toprankin’ in 1977 and 78 – so I would have been all of 22 or 23! That absolutely makes sense as that was when I was spending time with that particular friend. I guess my disassociation comes from my lack of interest at the time, but although still not a fan, I can see how amazing Punk was as a breakaway from where pop and rock were going in the seventies.

My other punk memory comes from going to a Welsh language recording of a punk band in Cardiff that would have been a little earlier as it was when I was involved with a very enthusiastic Welsh learner, James, with certain obsessions I met on a Welsh learners’ weekend….

Now this may make sense to those who remember the seventies, but everyone seemed to own a digital watch and some were very complicated. James’s was very complex indeed. I remember he seemed obsessed with his watch, the Welsh language and motorbikes. He was attractive and seemed interested in me, but somehow nothing happened and I returned to Cardiff. And then we bumped into each other. I knew that anything we started, was going to be sexual and it seemed like an interesting idea and cure for my mooning after my third lover whose loss had hit me hard. I soon added ‘sex’ to James’s list of interests!

He was straight forward and really enjoyed sex. And it was fun and uncomplicated. I told him he was my fourth and he’d actually lost count of his sexual partners and would remember another one at the oddest moment – and apparently, I was rather good despite my limited back catalogue!

So this Welsh-speaking watch-obsessed biker invited me to a recording of some Welsh language “youth” programme featuring a Welsh language punk band. I was fascinated! I think it was at either the HTV or BBC studios in Cardiff and was all very organised. They looked the part, sang wild Welsh punk and stomped about menacingly and the young audience obligingly gyrated. And in between, the young performers spoke in beautifully accented, rather posh-sounding, attractively modulated perfect-sounding Welsh when asked for retakes or close-ups. It felt like a perfect symbiosis and a great dramatic performance.