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God Save Jamie Reid

There's more to the work of Jamie Reid than first meets the eye, as Ian Lowey discovered when he met the man largely credited with creating the punk aesthetic.

When Jamie Reid took a Cecil Beaton silver jubilee portrait of the queen and superimposed a safety pin through her bottom lip, he created one of the most iconic pop cultural images of the late-20th Century; a simple visual statement that in terms of its universal familiarity, stands alongside Andy Warhol's soup can and the Beatles Sergeant Pepper album cover.

Having graduated from Croydon Art School (alongside Malcolm McClaren), Reid first made his mark politically and artistically with the Suburban Press. This was a local Croydon-based magazine, co-founded by Reid in 1970, as a kind of shit-stirring mix of local politics, cut-and-paste graphics, absurd humour, agit-prop/ Situationist aphorisms and a lot of subtly subversive mischief-making; all conceived as a spirited antidote to the prevailing earnestness and beard-scratching inertia of more orthodox left-wing politics.

The Suburban Press ran for five years, during which time Reid was able to hone his soon-to-be hugely influential combination of cut-up graphics and cryptic sloganeering, which would eventually be brought to wider public awareness, via his collaboration with Malcolm McClaren, and Johnny Rotten and the boys.

With Reid's anti-design forming the perfect visual foil to the Sex Pistols incendiary anti-rock and roll, the resultant package became one of the most brilliantly effective examples of guerilla marketing ever seen: one which served to critique and undermine passive consumerist society whilst at the same time raking in 'cash from chaos'. And within punk itself, Jamie's oblique, enigmatic sloganeering made the more earnest proselytising of contemporaries such as The Clash, look woefully pedestrian. Yet if shock and outrage is said to represent the first stage in the assimilation of subversive ideas, then perhaps it was inevitable that, far from destroying rock and roll, the Sex Pistols have become 'classic rock', whilst punk graphics have been appropriated to sell anything from vodka to high street fashion. But there is an enduring legacy in as much as Reid's easily-copied, rough-hewn visuals helped carry the DIY punk ethos over into other areas of endeavour, such as zines, self-produced comics, independent film-making and fine art. Some cultural critics have even pointed towards punk's influence on the Young British Artists of the early-Nineties: something which is most immediately exemplified by Gavin Turk's 'Pop'; a lifesize fibreglass cast of the artist assuming the identity of Sid Vicious as he appears in the 'My Way' sequence of 'The Great Rock & Roll Swindle'. Not that Jamie has much time for the YBAs,

'It's funny, I never really think of them as a Nineties phenomenon, but more as being part of the legacy of Margaret Thatcher; it's all gestures and very elitist. As a movement it reminds me of nouvelle cuisine; you get very little for your money.'

So, who in his view are the true inheritors of the punk legacy?

'There's loads of examples, but ultimately it's the DIY ethos which counts. Also, it's very easy to view things solely within the context of western culture and fashion; but a specific example of someone I've worked with who has been directly influenced by punk, is the Finnish film director Aki Karusmaki. But instead of getting a mohican and a guitar, he and his brother took over cinemas and out of that formed a production company and made films. Also, in North Africa punk was a big inspiration on Rai music. Ultimately, punk is more to do with ideas and less about just the fashion and being in a four-piece rock band.'

And why does Jamie think the whole punk thing become mythologised to the extent that you can now imagine 40-year-old men being asked by their wide-eyed siblings, 'daddy, what did you do during punk?'

'I think a lot of it is like looking back on war stories,' he laughs. 'Punk was like an exorcism which cleared up a lot

of the shit that was left over from the Sixties. A lot the energy and creativity of the late-Sixties had become very corporate by the mid-Seventies. But then, that happened too with punk. Initially, punk was about spontaneity and it also carried with it a really vicious sense of humour, but sadly that has become lost with the process of mythologisation.'

 

Extracted from a longer illustrated article which appeared in issue 4 of Nude (Sept/ Oct 2004).