The Jam - 'About The Young Idea' at Somerset House

What are Saturday afternoons for if not to re-live your youth and marvel at the passing years? Yesterday we went to the exhibition about The Jam at the venerable old Somerset House, 'About The Young Idea'. It was full of middle aged men reliving their youth (as I was) and showing off to their families - 'look! I used to have that tee shirt!' - as well as a surprising number of youngsters who weren't born when The Jam split.

I couldn't quite get past the niggling thought that all this stuff I was surrounded by was about my past as well as about rebellious youth, about fighting the establishment and yet here it was as an exhibition. My memories and history are now nostalgia and worthy of an exhibition. When did that happen? I went to The Clash retrospective exhibition a few years ago in Soho and loved reliving the experience and this exhibition is four or five times bigger with so much more stuff. Badges, clothes, records, posters, music paper covers and fanzines, guitars, video walls, and all sorts.

It was fun reading some of the little snippets of Jam history that littered the display, much of which was new to me. Such as Paul Weller seeing the Sex Pistols and deciding to take the band in a new direction. Like The Jam's first review was of them playing at Berwick Street market with The Clash in the audience. Lots of interesting stuff.

The clothes all looked so small. Were we all that skinny back then and of course we were because we were young. I wouldn't even dream of trying on the Union Jack jacket these days - the seams would split if I even looked like I was going to try it on. It was nice seeing the jackets - and even the shoes - that featured in videos and TV appearances. The Jam always had a specific image that made them stand out.

It was also nice to see all the badges - badges used to be important. They demonstrated your beliefs and which tribe you belonged to but don't really seem to exist these days. I still proudly wear my Poly Styrene signature badge on jackets and coats just as I wore my original X-Ray Spex badges from 1978 when I say Poly at the Roundhouse in 2008. Some things are important.

But I loved seeing the old tour  posters, music paper covers and leaflets and recognising the names - some of which I remember buying back in the day. Siouxsie & the Banshees featured a few times but also lesser known lights like The Saints and Patrik Fitzgerald who also supported The Jam on tour.  I have almost as many songs by The Saints in my collection as I do for The Jam and I have more Patrik Fitzgerald (the 'punk poet' I've blogged about before). Siouxsie outnumbers them all of course.

It's a good exhibition, nicely displayed and filling the maze of rooms, along with videos of the band playing and guitars hung all over the place. It was very busy yesterday so looks like it's been a success. It's on for another couple of weeks so go and take look if you can.  It's not in the same league as the 'Bowie Is…' exhibition a couple of years ago (that's still touring the world) but it's more evidence - if any was needed - that recent popular culture is worth collecting and looking at again.  I wonder what the next one will be?

The Sex Pistols at The National Portrait Gallery

I went to the National Portrait Gallery the other evening to hear David McAlmont talk about his fascination with paintings about English kings called Edward and their wars against the Scots and Welsh. It was, I think, the hottest evening of the summer so far so the air-con in the NPG was most welcome. But my reason for blogging is the postcard I saw in the NPG shop on the way out, a portrait of the Sex Pistols from 1990 that I've never seen before.

Here we have the original Pistols line-up of John Lydon, Paul Cook, Steve Jones and Glen Matlock. Sid replaced Glen in 1978 and that was his downfall. I saw the Pistols in 2007 and John referred to them at the end of the gig as the best band in the world and, that night, they were. And the loudest.

I've seen Glen around London a few times in the past few years, most recently back in January at Viv Albertine's gig at Bar12 and last year at the Marc Bolan celebration at Shepherd's Bush. Keeping it real, Glen.

The Pistols were also the poster boys for an exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery in 2007 about photo-journalism called 'Daily Encounters'. I didn't see that exhibition but loved the poster on the railings outside the Gallery.

One of these days I'll have to have a browse through the Gallery's catalogue for pictures of other heroes and curate my own exhibition. A portrait of Poly Styrene is in the photo collection and that was shown as part of the Devotional exhibition in 2007 (that was a good year for punks, it seems). I wonder who else is in there...?

Viv Albertine @ the 12Bar Club

As you might remember, I backed Viv Albertine's PledgeMusic campaign to fund her first solo album and it was released in November 2012. I was more than happy to support Viv and was delighted with the result. Viv offered us the opportunity to support her at a showcase to promote the record and the autobiography to be published later this year and I jumped at the chance. The showcase was last night at the 12Bar Club on Denmark Street (also sometimes called Tin Pan Alley) in London.

After a long day at work I finally left for the gig and arrived at Denmark Street just before the start time, gave my name at the door, had my hand stamped with the date (it's a long time since that's happened) and the bloke on the door said to go straight on through. So I did. 

My heart fell slightly when I walked in since the place was dingy and small, but I went to the bar to order a Guinness to celebrate seeing Viv, my first Guinness of 2013. The bar staff just talked to each other in Polish paying no attention to customers so it get's a minus mark for service. Then I walked on and found a small maze of rooms with bare walls and walls covered in ska and TwoTone posters and found the gig room which is about the same size as my living room with bare brick walls and a teeny stage. I stood at the back, roughly in the centre so I'd have a good view.

At first I thought, 'o dear' but then I travelled back in time to the late 70s/early 80s and remembered this is exactly the kind of club I used to go to way back when - small rooms, brick walls - this one just seems to have survived over the last 30 years! It was perfect for a showcase for Viv and I felt strangely comfortable. The stage was about 3 feet tall and just big enough for four people. The room probably holds about 50 people and it was full. It was gloomy with a few lights on the stage and that was it, with the band setting up their instruments (keyboard, violin and a bloke sitting on a wooden box as drums).

Shortly after 7:10pm, someone got on stage in a coat and scarf, carrying a few bags, someone with shoulder-length brown hair. Off came the scarf, coat goes on the stage at the back with her bags and up stands Viv, putting on her guitar before turning round to say hello to the crowd. She wore a white pleated skirt, orange shirt with big collars and a tight suede jacket and said she hoped we didn't mind that she was dressed as a yummy mummy. I didn't mind at all.

The three-piece band came on and, just as they were about to start the first song, Viv's mobile phone went off! She said 'It's probably just Mick...' and crouched down to rummage for her phone and switch it off.

Viv and her band played four songs: 'Don't Believe', ' Becalmed (I Should've Known)' (a song for when you've cocked up big time), 'I Want More' (which is what Viv thinks about before bedtime) and 'Confessions Of A MILF' (I love the line when the little wife sings 'I chose being an artist over being a wife so now I'm going to lead a very lovely life'). They're all favourites so I was happy. I sung along and tapped my feet and nodded my head in time to the beat (man).

There was a slight moment of annoyance during 'I Want More' when a late arrival decided to push past behind me to get to the other side of the room and the bloke politely said 'sorry'. Co-incidentally, Viv fluffed the words and stopped the song to start it again and do it properly so I got the full song and could focus on it and thoroughly enjoy it, joining in to sing, 'No compromise, I want more!”. The bloke? O yeah, that was Mick Jones. I've never met a Clash before (I know it's not quite meeting, but y'know...).

After the four songs the three-piece band left the stage and Viv picked up her MacBook to read from her forthcoming autobiography. She joked that she'd increased the size of the text (and showed us the screen to prove it) to avoid having to go to Specsavers. She then read out the chapter about the White Riot tour with the Clash in 1977 with references to Mick Jones and how they split up at the end of the tour. It's remarkably honest and Viv is terribly brave reading it out knowing that he's in the audience. She also got a lot of laughs as she told the tale of Norman, the tour bus driver, refusing to drive if the Slits were on board and having to be bribed, of locking Ari Up in the toilet so she didn't dance in the aisle of the bus, and the support bands getting together on the final night of the tour to jam a version of the Velvet's 'Sister Ray'.

Part of what Viv read aloud was to do with the gig in Newcastle. Viv recalled it as being and looking poor and grey. My memories of Newcastle in the '70s are definitely on the grey side, lacking in colour and life, so I share her views. I found this blog about the gig (that I didn't attend since I wasn't a student but I bought the record) and it shares some of Viv's recollections.

Then it was all over. Viv said goodnight and we did the clap-clap-clap thing until the background music started playing again and Viv put her laptop away. People started moving away, space cleared and that was it. I didn't take any photos since it didn't seem right.

I moved to the side of the stage thinking, 'I'm not leaving without saying hello' and, of course, Viv was chatting to someone she seemed to know, then someone else came up and someone else for a hug. I'm standing there. Then I thought, if I don't say something I'll miss my chance so I said, 'Hello Viv, loved the show' and she started chatting to me. Asked my name and, after I told her she replied with 'O yes, you're one of my backers, thank you' – I was quietly delighted to be remembered!

I said I was pleased she'd played 'I Want More' since it's one of my favourites and that I agreed with what she'd said about Newcastle on the White Riot tour. She told me to pick up my freebies (that I think of as presents) from the desk at the front and told me to get a poster, a handwritten setlist and a CD single. I said 'bye' and she said 'bye'.

On the way out I had to squeeze past Glen Matlock. I think he's stalking me … After meeting him a few times at gigs over the last year or so I've decided he seems to follow me round (the cheeky fellow, but he obviously knows that I know the best places to go).

Then I went up to the front desk to pick up my presents, carefully rolled up the (numbered) poster to carry home as a trophy and left the club with a big smile on my face and lots of memories to cherish as I headed to Tottenham Court Road station. I felt a bit like a teenager again, seeing a hero and rushing home holding my trophies carefully. I listened to Viv on my iPod on the way home (a big difference from being a teenager), thinking and reminiscing.

Viv was fab. She sang songs, she did riffing, she did chatting, she did reading, she did laughing, she did intense honesty and she did loveliness. She is a hero. She's playing at Nambucca, a club on Holloway Road on 23 February so I've bought tickets to see her. It is my job as a fan.  As I've blogged before, it's the job of my heroes to tell me about new records, books and tours and it's my job to get them, attend gigs and tell everyone I can about them. It's a sacred deal, y'know.