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As a kid, Punk was everything to me. It was the anti-authoritarian lens through which I viewed everything. Even as I grew out of the music, the ideology still informed everything I did. As I got older and read more theory I started to view punk as infantile and puerile. A childish attempt at transgression. A baby spitting its dummy out.
A couple of years ago, a girl I was seeing gave me a copy of this book, and it rekindled my love for punk.
A sourfaced evisceration of the British state and the then-burgeoning tide of globalisation, this book is an Ode to Wally Hope, a man entrenched in the hippy moment who died as a result of his imprisonment in a mental institution. Through his activism and organising of free parties, Wally was much beloved and his death made of him a martyr for anarcho-punks everywhere. This book doesn't pull its punches and while some of what Rimbaud preaches seems like common knowledge today in the early eighties it would have been revolutionary. I can't recommend this, or the album it was published to accompany (Crass' Christ - the Album) enough.
It's short, if not so sweet, and my copy lives in my back pocket at all times.
Jan 17, 2024
Related Recs
Playing Cycledelic by Johnny Moped today. This album was chaos, charm, and genius all rolled into one. And for me, it’s more than just a punk classic – it’s a reminder of where it all started.
Back in the days of sticky floors, cheap strings, and big dreams, I was in a band called Travis Cut – loud, fast, and barely held together. The kind of band that lived for the next gig and maybe the next pint. That whole era, and the beautiful mess of it all, is what inspired my book Three and a Half Minutes of Fame.
The book isn’t just about music – it’s about the scene, the spirit, and the people who somehow survived it. If you ever pogoed in a basement, argued over setlists in the van, or found meaning in a 7-inch single, this one’s for you.
Punk’s not dead. It just writes books now - thanks to the brilliant team at Earth Island
Jul 7, 2025
1994. Dookie drops, and suddenly punk was everywhere – on MTV, on the radio, in the charts. What used to get you funny looks in a pub was now playing over the speakers in supermarkets.
It was wild, surreal, and honestly? Kind of thrilling.
While Green Day were going global, Travis Cut were tearing around the UK in a clapped-out van, playing every floor, toilet venue and back room we could find. The stakes weren’t the same – but the energy was. We were all caught up in that moment, when it felt like anything could happen.
Three and a Half Minutes of Fame is my attempt to bottle that era. It’s not about fame in the way you think – it’s about believing in something loud and fast and real, even when the world doesn’t care. It’s about chasing noise, finding your people, and hanging on for dear life while punk flirted with the mainstream.
That moment in time – part chaos, part glory – is in every page.
📘 Out now from Earth Island Books.
Jul 5, 2025
One of my favorite books about music. Checks all the boxes for me.
Here's the official blurb:
SELLOUT: The Major Label Feeding Frenzy That Swept Punk, Emo, and Hardcore (1994-2007)
The stories of 11 bands and their major label debut albums, including:
Green Day, Jawbreaker, Jimmy Eat World, Blink-182, At the Drive-In, The Donnas, Thursday, The Distillers, My Chemical Romance, Rise Against, Against Me!
Feb 2, 2024
Top Recs from @embracenothing
It seems like everybody got into the Cremator over the past couple years. Understandably so. Easily one of my favourite films ever made. Looking for more I dove into the scene that spawned it.
The CzSk New Wave came about as a result of a period of political liberalisation in the country. Less government interference meant a greater level of auteurship. Following the Prague Spring this came to an end and many films were banned.
Sometimes overwhelming, full of colour and bizarre dreamlike narratives. Other times slow, plodding and weighted with intense political commentary. These films offer something that you‘d be hard pressed to find in another period of cinema. The kind of expressiveness that only comes from new-found liberation and the eye for technical detail that comes from years of rote reproduction under authoritarianism.
5 films to check out:
1 Something Different
2 The Joke
3 Fireman’s Ball
4 Case for a Rookie Hangman
5 Valerie and Her Week of Wonders
When coming up with a top 5 I had to revisit upon realising 4 out of 5 were directed by Jaromil Jireš. Managed to get it down to two, both of which (The Joke and Valerie Her Week of Wonders) are absolute essentials.
Also worthy of note, this was the environment in which Milos Forman cut his teeth.
Jan 17, 2024
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When I was eleven, my grandparents lived in Cyprus. I'd go and visit them each summer. Most days were blistering hot, and there was nothing to do. Eventually, we found a DVD rental place in town with a bizarre collection of DVDs and PlayStation 2 games. It was there that I first came across the cultural detritus of the early 2000s. The Jackass TV series, the CKY tapes, the first couple seasons of Dudesons and a bunch of bootleg skate wipeout comps. That summer did irreparable damage to my mushy little brain. Mixed in among those DVDs was the first season of Dirty Sanchez.
Dirty Sanchez pushed things further.
Imagine an alternate universe version of Jackass, with no budget, where everybody's a Welsh pisshead. Five minutes into the first episode, I knew I was watching something different. The camera work was shoddy. The pranks/stunts were stripped back. The stars were irredeemable pricks. The lack of framing or gimmicks meant that every action had to be more brutal than the last. From Dainton slamming pushpins into his forehead to an unedited full-frontal shot of Pritchard getting the head of his cock pierced, it was pure, unhinged, masochism. I was obsessed.
The show somehow managed to rack up 4 seasons and a film. Each season upped the production quality and tried to implement some kind of narrative structure to the episodes. The latter seasons still wipe the floor with other similar shows in regards to pushing boundaries and showing some absolutely foul shit, but lack some of the the off-the-cuff charm of the first series that makes it so endearing to this day.
An absolute triumph of car crash TV, upon a recent rewatch, it's still a hilarious, white-knuckle shitshow of a viewing experience. The type of show that could only have come from that brief period in the early 00s where it felt like culture was on a death race to the bottom in search of the dumbest shit you could possibly broadcast. Whether or not it was appropriate viewing for an 11-year-old is up for debate, but if nothing else, it poses the question: 'How the fuck was this on television?' and I can't recommend it highly enough.
Jan 22, 2024