In other words, who cares?

You. Evidently.

*wipes tear from eye*

There are plenty of ordinary sikhs who go round challenging people’s perceptions without the fanfare. As there are muslims and any other grouping you’d care to name. I recall the time you sneered at that camp asian lad dressed head-to-toe in burberry. I think he probably challenged perceptions much better.

What’s more Chaz is probably reinforcing the perception that ‘comer-inners’ need in some way to show their loyalty to the ‘adoptive country’. That is a dangerous path that ’state patriotism’ demands you take.

In other words, who cares?

And to Morrissey afficionados – what is he and what was he to you?

I am deeply cynical and suspicious of fans of anything. Sheep!

End of debate.

I think it is pretty clear that Moz’s preoccupations are not with the politics of the far right, but with the vulnerable machismo of the little boy lost: from James Dean through to the “Davey” of Romper Stomper and the National Front Disco. He’s not an artist who is greatly preoccupied with matters of political philosophy. The only stands he has taken is pedestrian anti-monarchism, misanthropic advocacy of humanity to animals, and dreaming of the decapitation of Mrs Thatsch. No: he’s more a collagist of national and personal culture, who takes bits from here and there – all those lyrics plagiarised and taken on loan – and weaves them into a testament of identity.

So, yes, there’s an affinity between the man who had Joan of Arc burned with a hearing aid, and the son lost to the promises of the National Front, and the try-to-hard stereotypical Bengali immigrant.

I think, however, that if you sing a mocking song about a man from Bangladesh who spends so much time trying to impress you, that doesn’t even realise that his very presence is a source of depression, you are – to put it kindly – not an obvious advocate of anti-racism. This isn’t Joe Strummer singing Armagideon Time in a cod Jamaican accent.

That said, I’ve come across Korean-Americans who call themselves “Tooled up Asian Boy”.

Morrissey’s response to the controversy about his racism is an integral part of Morrissey mythology. What he didn’t do was engage in disproportionate, or self-serving Jade Goody-esque antics. He simply refused to engage with them. To do so, honestly, would have involved him in swapping a discipline of communicating about those things that really matter to him through the medium of the lyrics of unpopular song, to a conventional discourse of interviews and press releases.

Wouldn’t that have been terrible?

Meanwhile, his catalogue filled up with semi-answers: the slightly snide “Asian Rut”, the anti-Occupation of Ireland, “This is Not Your Country”: a song which borrows its title from a line spoken by Hando in Romper Stomper, the National Front Disco, and the football hooligans in We’ll Let You Know, “who will descend on anyone unable to defend themselves”, who sing racist songs which “aren’t supposed to mean a thing”, and who in the end turn out to be no more than wasters, thugs, and failures:

We may seem cold, or
We may even be
The most depressing people you’ve ever known
At heart, what’s left, we sadly know
That we are the last truly British people you’ll ever know
We are the last truly British people you will ever know
You’ll never never want to know

And so the decline continues, and we find ourselves in the company of authors afraid of their “born-again athiest, practising troublemaker” subjects, who stumble around with four days of stubble, stanley knives in hand “waiting for the next great wound”, “to make more mistakes, nd to fluff our breaks, and to stuff our faces with cake”.

It is a depressing vista.

But at the end of it all, Morrissey still wants to stand by the flag, the child of Irish immigrants, feeling proud, rather than racist or racial. There’s redemptive end in sight for this pessimistic trek across the ruins of a culture.

And still, he’s touring.

Shall we say it was a draw?

And the captains swapped jerseys?

What would the other jersey look like?

Here is an NME article from 1992 on Moz’s fliratation with racist imagery which is OK.

No he’s not. He’s taking the piss. Life is hard enough when you belong here because, in the view of the song, you *don’t* belong here.

Still, it is only one song, and there are many more good ones. It is hardly Clapton eulogising Powell.

Anyhow…

When a brown guy does it, our hearts well with pride??!

Naah, you’re underestimating my sentimental nationalism. I have a fondness for:

- English Civil War Re-enactment societies (not that I’d get involved in one, mind)
- Folk music
- Re-runs of Time Team on the Discovery Channel
- Billy Bragg

… all that sort of stuff.

Yeah, it is nice that the guy who is doing it is sikh. He can probably get away with it without surrendering completely to irremediable naffness, for that reason.

I like it in the same way that I like somebody like Bishi

http://www.bishi.co.uk/

http://www.myspace.com/bishimusic

I mean, I like that she works in both indian and english folk styles, and what doing that represents, sure.

But basically I just like the music, you know

When a brown guy does it, our hearts well with pride??!

Ummm, whose hearts are swelling with pride? I think you kind of misunderstand. I don’t think anyone is claiming he’s a superhero or something, the new Monty Panesar. Unless David T’s panegyric which was dislodged by Chaz has caused you indigestion, in which case, I understand.

And the Morrisey lyric is bollocks, by the way. What is he singing to the Bengali kid, don’t embrace platforms and English youth culture because you’ll be dissapointed? And that’s your advice to everyone else? Bollocks to that!

When a brown guy does it, our hearts well with pride??!

Its a more accurate reflection of of St.George innit.

When a brown guy does it, our hearts well with pride??!

Heh, very true.

Sardarji, Sardarji
Sardarji, Sardarji
No no no
He does not want to depress you
Oh no no no no no
He only wants to impress you
Oh..

Sardarji in chainmail
He only wants to embrace your culture
And to be your friend forever
Forever

Sardarji, Sardarji
Sardarji, Sardarji
Oh, shelve your western plans
And understand
That life is hard enough when you belong here

A silver-studded rim that glistens
And an ankle-star that … blinds me
A lemon sole so very high
Which only reminds me; to tell you
Break the news gently
Break the news to him gently
Shelve your plans; shelve your plans, shelve them