(Morning Star, Saturday 25 March 2006)
INTERVIEW: STEVE DIGGLE chats to the Star about being part of the seminal Manchester punk band the Buzzcocks.
If there was ever a band who could puff out their chests and walk tall, a band who taught instead of learning, who forged instead of following, who spoke to the youth of a generation and would brook no disagreement, it would be The Ramones. Right?
Meanwhile, back in Britain, a Manchester band were throwing their lot in with some London punk rock ne'er-do-wells.
In 1976, the Buzzcocks, hailing from the "grim north," played their first show with the Sex Pistols and they've never looked back, so says the band's erstwhile guitarist and songwriter supreme Steve Diggle.
"Our first gig was with the Sex Pistols in 1976 in Manchester," Steve remembers with a grin. "It took us three weeks to get a band together. It really helped to put Manchester on the musical map and the provincial scenes really sprung up from there, as people realised that you didn't have to be in London to be a part of it all. I think that we were a catalyst for that in terms of coming from Manchester."
Diggle's conversation is peppered with references to how important and influential the Buzzcocks were. Anyone else who tried this would surely deserve a smack. But, when it comes to this confident northerner, you can't knock him - it's all true.
What would anyone's reaction be if they were hailed as punk's forefathers? Diggle is nonplussed.
"It's strange how time has flown. We do take it as a compliment that so many bands around sound like us. We invented the world that we came from, we were distinctive and individual," he affirms.
The Buzzcocks have a new album out.
It's not a Best Of, as one might expect. It's not even a rerelease of their most successful long-player. It's an all new, singing and rocking example of why these guys never went away. Yes, you read right - never went away. Anywhere.
"There is a lot of interest in this album." Diggle scratches his head. "Even though we did have one out three years ago. It's almost like people think we've made some big comeback. But it is a good album, so I think it deserves the coverage."
Diggle isn't at pains to point out their expertise, by the way. It's just something that seems to reaffirm itself.
So, after three years, how are the band sounding? Well, the album's a brash, searing take-no-Guantanamo-prisoners account of modern life - that it's rubbish, of course, but more than that. The world's changing in a terribly distressing way and, from our little corporate boxes, we're all complicit in some way.
As Diggle pointed out on his solo album, the Bruce Springsteen-approved Serious Contender, the brands that we buy are buying us off - lock, stock, the bleedin' lot.
From his solo record comes Diggle's best example of his feeling of dread. "I've got a song on my solo album called Starbucks Around the World, which has the lyric 'paper cups all look the same.' It means that we're all suffering from this corporate industry that runs everything. People are sitting in offices somewhere making marketing strategies and messing with our lives.
"Punk and the whole movement which we were part of questioned it all," he finishes triumphantly, confident that he has been part of a movement that judged everyone around them and who, years later, are still calling it how they see it. So what of today's young pretenders? What of the Buzzcocks-for-today, the social commentators and devil-may-care working-class intelligentsia like, say, the Arctic Monkeys?
Diggle seems unconvinced as to their socialist credentials. "They have an easy use of language, but they're not dangerous. It sounds like they're spirited, though, which is good. I like Hard-Fi, singing about coming from Staines and searching for a better life."
With all that's happened for the Buzzcocks - the booze, the bust-ups, the tours and the tantrums - they have earned their punk rock stripes. Diggle agrees emphatically.
"We just stand back in amazement that we got through. We seem to have gone from strength to strength. This album is a true return to our form and there are certainly some classic moments on there."
After all this time, Diggle is still fairly pragmatic about his lifestyle choice.
"If music is in your blood, you can't deny it. You can change the music over time and I think that I've changed into something else. I'm a conscientious objector to work after all this time." He laughs. "Something always spurs you on and writing new songs keeps the interest up and keeps your mind and heart in it. It's the age-old process of a blank piece of paper and just pulling something out of the air and making it great."
And great it indubitably is. Is the harmonious output of the band at odds with any sort of volatility in the relationship between Diggle and bandmate Pete Shelley?
"He has his business and I have mine," Diggle immediately jumps in. "I think that our songs complement each other, but we do have very different influences, as people more than through music. I like to write more social songs about the world and Pete writes about the love side of things. There are limits to how far I can go with my style, so it's a good healthy mix for us to have. People have called my lyrics existential and I guess that's accurate. I just want to make a point and let people decide for themselves."
With his social awareness expressed throughout his music, does Diggle feel that this is something that people should choose as their life plan? Or are careers teachers duty-bound to put off young Buzzcocks fans who hear punk's anarchic call?
"I didn't think of it as a career, it was just an urgent, direct thing. I just thought that one gig might lead to a couple more gigs. At the time, a lot of young people did feel the angst of 1976. There were coming up for one million people on the dole and the audience were just questioning things. We had an awareness of life which I think is lacking now."
So maybe punk fans need to re-evaluate. Because, if there was ever a band who could puff out their chests and walk tall, a band who taught instead of learning, who forged instead of following and who spoke to the youth of every generation and would brook no disagreement, it would be the Buzzcocks.
