Heatwave: remembering the summer of ’76

I was browsing the “out now” shelf in my local library and I saw a book called Heatwave. Obviously I had to get it. It was 30 degrees outside. 

Also, the book is about 1976 and everyone’s talking about 1976. Some people are talking about the 50th anniversary of punk and some are talking about climate. Whatever the reason, a lot of people are looking back.

And then, “Burnham to drag us back to the 1970s” shouts the front page of a right-wing rag at the weekend. And friends of my generation are going: bring it on.  Great music, strong trade unions, student grants, a working NHS and public services that were still in public hands. What’s not to like?

Well, actually a lot, if you look at the history. Especially if you were female. Or Black. Or Asian. Or gay.

Heatwave, the book, is by John L Williams and it’s just out now in paperback. It’s a social history of that summer, covering music and culture, sport, news (national and international) and of course the weather. It describes that period as a turning point in British history, even while there are parallels to our own time. 

I’ve written a book

I’ve written a book and it’s out on 5th March. It’s called Atypical Girl.  If you’ve enjoyed reading this blog I think you’ll like it.

Here are answers to some things people have asked me about it.

What’s your book about?

The very short answer is: ‘Punk rock, Liverpool and trying to be normal’. That’s the book’s subtitle.

The slightly longer answer is that it’s a memoir starting in 1976 and going up to the 21st century. It’s about coming of age during punk and how that influenced the rest of my life – including my career as a music journalist. A lot of it is about the Liverpool punk scene around Eric’s club and the post-punk scene that followed. There’s also a subplot about growing up with undiagnosed autism, hence the title (which is, of course, a play on Typical Girls by the Slits).

A People's History of Punk: radio review

 

It’s 2026. And apparently it’s the “50th anniversary of punk”. There’s going to be a lot of Media Stuff about it this year.

I’ve got a few problems with this.

1. The timing is London-centric. For most of us in the rest of the country, our year zero was 1977.

2. Punk wasn’t supposed to last 50 years.

I might come back to that another time. But for now, here’s the beginning of the Media Stuff: a Radio 4 series fronted by Chris Packham.

Book review: Maybe I’m Amazed

“Autism illuminates the way all our minds work – not least our relationship with music.”

I’ve got two things in common with author John Harris’s son James. We are both autistic, and music is a big part of our lives. Well, three things if you count the fact that we both dislike Captain Beefheart. As his father says, James has good taste in music.

There is more that we don’t have in common. We are a different gender, and a different generation. I don’t have a learning disability. And I don’t have an amazing musical talent either: James is a musical savant with perfect pitch.

The book is subtitled A Story of Love and Connection in Ten Songs. There’s a lot of love in the book (love between family members, love for music) and a lot of connection (also with family members and music).

Schrodinger’s retirement

 

I have wondered in the past about whether I am ready to retire. Now it’s starting to feel as if I don’t have a choice. 

Officially I am still working. I update my business website every month. I sometimes post about work-related things on my social media (although I’m more likely these days to be posting about books and music). And I still go on LinkedIn, although I hate it.

And one day last week I went on LinkedIn and in just a few minutes I saw an ex colleague who’s been out of work for six months and is desperate for a job, and three freelances advertising their “availability”.

I have “availability” too. In the past everyone was embarrassed to admit it, because there was a stigma about not being successful. But when it’s happening to everyone, it has to be said.

I’ve been freelance, this time round, for over 12 years and I’ve always assumed I could continue for as long as I wanted. But maybe that’s no longer true.