Using a long-take visual style that recalls the work of Patrick Keiller, Kelly's film meditates on the injustice of Lawrence's lack of commercial success. It is funny and moving, so go to see it now if you can. But since the film assumes knowledge of Lawrence's musical background, it would be a good idea first to familiarise yourself with the man's oeuvre. I recommend the following, very beautiful, song by Felt:
The other day I finally managed to see Lawrence of Belgravia, Paul Kelly's documentary film about Lawrence Hayward, the frontman of the criminally under-appreciated groups Felt, Denim and Go Kart Mozart. I've always liked Lawrence's music and - even more - his deadpan and perverse take on modernity ('I knew it was crap, the Internet', he opines at one point in the film). Along with Mark E. Smith and Jarvis Cocker, Lawrence is one of British indie music's most endearing curmudgeons. Using a long-take visual style that recalls the work of Patrick Keiller, Kelly's film meditates on the injustice of Lawrence's lack of commercial success. It is funny and moving, so go to see it now if you can. But since the film assumes knowledge of Lawrence's musical background, it would be a good idea first to familiarise yourself with the man's oeuvre. I recommend the following, very beautiful, song by Felt: Also check out this comic gem by Denim: And this from Go Kart Mozart, which I always think of as a neat rejoinder to news media stereotypes of the lazy working class - a masterpiece of 'reverse discourse': It's been a fun-filled few weeks for the left-liberal commentariat, who have been all-too-smugly savouring the humiliation of the Murdochs at the Leveson Enquiry. Now, the publication of a damning House of Commons report on the News of the World phone-hacking scandal has deemed Murdoch senior to be 'not a fit person' to run a major company, providing a further shot of schadenfreude for the bien pensant pundits of the left. And as the Culture Secretary continues to feel the heat for his part in oiling the wheels of the News Corporation juggernaut in the run-up to its BSkyB bid last year, the same commentators have been enjoying the thrill of the Hunt.
That many on the left should harbour mortal animosity towards Murdoch is perfectly understandable, given Murdoch's role in attacking the working class, both in the media and in actuality, over the last few decades. But the problem is that this hatred is now being recuperated by left-liberals in defence of the status quo. For campaigning MPs like Labour's Tom Watson, the humbling of Murdoch and his political supporters represents a victory for the forces of democracy and transparency over the corrupt networks of power represented by News International and its political allies. It also, we are assured, demonstrates the adamantine impartiality of the British state. As Timothy Garton Ash enthuses in today's Guardian: 'Imagine a fiercely independent judicial enquiry, a cross-party parliamentary committee and a largely free press all investigating the Bo Xilai case in Beijing'. It is indeed a heartening narrative if you believe it. Unfortunately, however, the story of Murdoch's fall from grace attests less to the marvels of British freedom and democracy than to the ability of the state to discipline elements that fall out of step with its agendas. Let's be clear about what happened last year: a dominant faction of the British establishment, clustered around the figures of Gordon Brown and Vince Cable, had grown increasingly anxious about News Corporation's market share and the organisation's pro-US politics - and went gunning for Murdoch. They finally brought down their prey on the eve of News Corp's bid for BSkyB. Ever since then, parliament, the judiciary and the press - far from exercising their independence, as Garton Ash maintains - have largely fallen into line with the Murdoch-bashing consensus. In short, the humiliation of Murdoch was a classic take-down in which all of the apparatuses of state played their part. And the beauty of it all - from the ruling class's perspective, at least - is that, as in the case of Watergate forty years ago, a state-orchestrated campaign to discredit a political faction has been presented to the public as a moral crusade that demonstrates the virtues of a 'free press' and a democratic, self-regulating state. None of this, of course, is to defend the Murdochs or their newspapers, as a few rogue Conservative Party politicians, such as Louise Mensch, and some journalists working for the Murdoch press, like David Aaronovitch, have been trying to do (as a cheerleader of the Iraq invasion, Aaronovitch has something of a history of defending the indefensible). But we should not confuse the state's battles against its enemies with our own struggle for a free, classless society and a genuinely democratic media. |
Archives
July 2020
|