The Bad Shepherds
The Bad Shepherds are a band I have an inordinate fondness for, they play 70s punk songs on folk instruments and it works, well most of the time.
The songs were the background of my teenage years, not that I embraced them. Younger me held on tightly to her ideals, gypsy skirts and love beads, rejecting punk in the way punk rejected mostly everything else but the music was there, the vibe of change unavoidable and there were some pretty good bands and songs in the mixture. Come the early 80s there is an incriminating photo of young me clad in nowt but a bin bag, black lipstick and docs off to see The Clash. But it was a one off.
As I approach half a century on planet Earth I notice gusts of acceptance blowing in on the north wind. They whisper "One does not have to like it but that`s the way things are" Outrages of all kinds fall under this simple phrase; all the outrage and injustice of the human condition both personal and global. Mostly the breeze is gentle, regretful but peaceful in its acceptance. Occasionally the wind is so cold it brings tears, despair and sometimes it howls. Howls loud, long headache making howls.
The howls and outrage of Punk are long gone, Johnny Rotten now sells butter dressed in tweed. Punk is played on folk instruments with a Celtic twist by a man better known for his comedy portrayal of a punk rocker.
Funny how it all turned out.
The songs were the background of my teenage years, not that I embraced them. Younger me held on tightly to her ideals, gypsy skirts and love beads, rejecting punk in the way punk rejected mostly everything else but the music was there, the vibe of change unavoidable and there were some pretty good bands and songs in the mixture. Come the early 80s there is an incriminating photo of young me clad in nowt but a bin bag, black lipstick and docs off to see The Clash. But it was a one off.
As I approach half a century on planet Earth I notice gusts of acceptance blowing in on the north wind. They whisper "One does not have to like it but that`s the way things are" Outrages of all kinds fall under this simple phrase; all the outrage and injustice of the human condition both personal and global. Mostly the breeze is gentle, regretful but peaceful in its acceptance. Occasionally the wind is so cold it brings tears, despair and sometimes it howls. Howls loud, long headache making howls.
The howls and outrage of Punk are long gone, Johnny Rotten now sells butter dressed in tweed. Punk is played on folk instruments with a Celtic twist by a man better known for his comedy portrayal of a punk rocker.
Funny how it all turned out.