Billy Bragg and the Search for Love in the Eighties
There was a time in the mid to late Eighties when folk music made a minor comeback. Not the capos and cardigans variety you might find in a Sixties coffee shop, but a new type of folk singer with modern views that fit in with the times. Whether they were exploring problems in the world or delving into their own personal universe, the main thread seemed to be honesty. Presenting themselves as someone who had something to say and was willing to bare their soul at a time in pop culture when you had to shout to be heard did not seem like a winning plan. No matter the decade, there always seems to be a handful of artists making meaningful music that runs parallel to the crass, commercial music dominating the mainstream. I was a fan of a lot of that crass, commercial music, as well as synth-pop, goth, and all forms of the “college rock” of that time, but this fresh take of the genre was a welcome addition. The folk artists, with the frankness in their lyrics and unpretentious, yet cool nature of their fashion, appealed to me. Suzanne Vega, John Wesley Harding, The Proclaimers, Michelle Shocked, and Billy Bragg were the artists to which I latched on. However, Bragg was the one who stood out the most. He was ten years older and felt like listening to a wise, big brother when playing his tapes as I drove back and forth to my college classes. The sound of his voice and the language he used were very English but easily understood by anyone willing to actually listen.
Bragg was very politically-minded. His music reflected that. The causes he would rally around were noble. If there was any injustice in the world, you can be sure he’d have something to say about it. He extolled kindness above all and brotherhood among men. If you are picturing a wimpy dude, politely singing and quietly strumming, you would be wrong. He usually performed alone with an electric guitar, which he would attack, as he sang and spoke to the crowd. Funnier than any comedian I have seen on stage, with four-letter words and a warm intimacy, he could connect with a crowd in a way that I don’t often witness. When he sang his most popular song we all sang along, to which he replied, “I hear you, brothers and sisters.” I have only seen a few performers since that held this power over an audience - John Wesley Harding, Shelby Lynne, and Glen Hansard also had this gift. While I listened to and agreed with his politics, his love songs and tales of young, broken hearts were what spoke to me.
Political songs are written to be grasped easily and repeated, the message being the most vital thing with the music coming second - sometimes a distant second. Even though his songs supporting a cause were strong, the love songs seemed to be more nuanced with a willingness to connect to the romantic side of the listener’s brain and, by extension, their heart. My cousin and I were best friends growing up and shared a love of Billy Bragg during our college years, even battling through a hellacious rainstorm to see him play at the Cabaret Metro in 1988. Our lives were spent focused on school and the far-fetched notion of finding love. I can’t speak for him, but for me, the lyrics I was hearing, I was also living. The desperate search for a partner, the willingness to put yourself on the line to find that person, and the injuries sustained when those attempts didn’t work out. The following are snippets of lyrics that spoke to me then. Hearing them again never fails to bring back some of those emotions even now.
A hot day, the smell of hairspray /And the sound of a shower running softly / It’s things like this that remind me of how I felt
Most important decisions in life / Are made by two people in bed / I found that out at my expense
Now I feel like I’ve won the cup every time we make love / Forty-five minutes each way, at halftime I hear a brass band play
She danced with me and I still hold that memory / Soft and sweet / And I stare up at her window / As I walk down her street
The boys who came to the shop / Always made her laugh much more than I did / When I told her this must stop / She didn’t bat an eyelid / She said you know honey it’s such a shame / You’ll never be any good at this game / You bruise too easily
Some brief distraction from your memory / Is all that I hoped that she might be / And as I let her warm her feet on me / Wish you were her
His lyrics speak of longing and a desire for intimacy, looking back on old relationships and reliving the parts that made them special. For my cousin and me, each semester would bring new classrooms full of possibility. Through all of the false starts and awkward exchanges as we struggled to find that connection, Bragg’s music was there for us any time we needed it to be. All of those romantic visions of over-the-shoulder glances from the desk across the classroom, walking together across a leafy campus during the fading light of a fall evening, late-night study sessions in the library, or sitting close to someone as they doodle in the margins of your spiral notebook never materialized.
In the end, we both ended up finding love, yet it wasn’t with a classmate, it was actually with people we met through work associations. It is true that these things come along when you’re not looking for them. Although my wife and I didn’t meet and fall in love against the cinematic backdrop I had always envisioned, it was magical nonetheless. I still hold those memories soft and sweet.
