Illustration by Stéphanie Thieullent
“Ari Up: John Lydon’s step-daughter dies.” The Telegraph’s headline was horribly reductive. Ari Up, information pills try who died on Wednesday at the tragically young age of 48, treatment was the punk legend’s step-daughter but that was just a small and tangential detail in a fascinating life and career. With The Slits and later with the New Age Steppers and solo in several guises, medical Ari Up was a musical icon in her own right, not a bit player on the fringes of the John Lydon circus.
The granddaughter of the owner of Der Spiegel and daughter of Nora Foster who was at the centre of the London music scene for years (befriending Hendrix and dating Chris Spedding before finally marrying Johnny Rotten), Ari Up was born from privilege and chaos in equal measure.
Nora’s tendency to invite poor punk musicians to bunk down at their house put Ari at the heart of the scene and got her guitar tuition from Joe Strummer. She was 14 when she formed The Slits with Strummer’s former-flatmate Palmolive. Her fascination with reggae gave the band a dubby feel that was in sharp contrast to the guitar thrashing of many other punk outfits.
Illustration by Aniela Murphy
Illustration by Abi Daker
The Slits debut album Cut, with its memorable image of the band naked but for grass skirts and a liberal coating of mud, featured a cleaner sound than their live performances. While the band’s cover of I Heard It Through The Grapevine is still an indie disco staple, the record is studded with gems particularly the amateurish piano and bouncing bass of Typical Girls.
Illustration by Faye West
The Splits broke up in 1981 and Ari moved with her husband and twins to Indonesia and Belize before heading for Jamaica, an appropriate location given her an enduring love of reggae and dub. She performed and recorded with Lee Scratch Perry and released a solo album, Dread More Dan Dead, in 2005.
In 2006, The Slits reformed to some critical acclaim, releasing the Return of The Giant Slits EP which was followed by a new full length record, Trapped Animals, in October last year.The Slits final work together, a video for the Trapped Animals track Lazy Slam, was released yesterday in accordance with Ari’s final wishes.
Illustration by Gemma Sheldrake
A whirling dervish of dreadlocks and energy even when The Slits returned in their middle-aged incarnation, it’s with sad inevitability that Ari Up will be pegged as John Lydon’s step-daughter first and a musician in her own right second. But more thoughtful souls will remember her as one of punk’s most distinctive voices whose work with The Slits confounded and confronted the heavy-handed misogyny of much mainstream punk – The Stranglers, I’m looking at you.
The death of Ari up has deprived music of one of its most original and unpredictable voices. It’s a truly sad day.
Illustration by Stéphanie Thieullent
“Ari Up: John Lydon’s step-daughter dies.” The Telegraph’s headline was horribly reductive. Ari Up, link who died on Wednesday at the tragically young age of 48, information pills was the punk legend’s step-daughter but that was just a small and tangential detail in a fascinating life and career. With The Slits and later with the New Age Steppers and solo in several guises, Ari Up was a musical icon in her own right, not a bit player on the fringes of the John Lydon circus.
Illustration by Gemma Milly
The granddaughter of the owner of Der Spiegel and daughter of Nora Foster who was at the centre of the London music scene for years (befriending Hendrix and dating Chris Spedding before finally marrying Johnny Rotten), Ari Up was born from privilege and chaos in equal measure.
Nora’s tendency to invite poor punk musicians to bunk down at their house put Ari at the heart of the scene and got her guitar tuition from Joe Strummer. She was 14 when she formed The Slits with Strummer’s former-flatmate Palmolive. Her fascination with reggae gave the band a dubby feel that was in sharp contrast to the guitar thrashing of many other punk outfits.
Illustration by Aniela Murphy
Illustration by Abi Daker
The Slits debut album Cut, with its memorable image of the band naked but for grass skirts and a liberal coating of mud, featured a cleaner sound than their live performances. While the band’s cover of I Heard It Through The Grapevine is still an indie disco staple, the record is studded with gems particularly the amateurish piano and bouncing bass of Typical Girls.
Illustration by Faye West
The Splits broke up in 1981 and Ari moved with her husband and twins to Indonesia and Belize before heading for Jamaica, an appropriate location given her an enduring love of reggae and dub. She performed and recorded with Lee Scratch Perry and released a solo album, Dread More Dan Dead, in 2005.
In 2006, The Slits reformed to some critical acclaim, releasing the Return of The Giant Slits EP which was followed by a new full length record, Trapped Animals, in October last year.The Slits final work together, a video for the Trapped Animals track Lazy Slam, was released yesterday in accordance with Ari’s final wishes.
Illustration by Gemma Sheldrake
A whirling dervish of dreadlocks and energy even when The Slits returned in their middle-aged incarnation, it’s with sad inevitability that Ari Up will be pegged as John Lydon’s step-daughter first and a musician in her own right second. But more thoughtful souls will remember her as one of punk’s most distinctive voices whose work with The Slits confounded and confronted the heavy-handed misogyny of much mainstream punk – The Stranglers, I’m looking at you.
The death of Ari up has deprived music of one of its most original and unpredictable voices. It’s a truly sad day.
Illustration by Stéphanie Thieullent
“Ari Up: John Lydon’s step-daughter dies.” The Telegraph’s headline was horribly reductive. Ari Up, who died on Wednesday at the tragically young age of 48, medicine was the punk legend’s step-daughter but that was just a small and tangential detail in a fascinating life and career. With The Slits and later with the New Age Steppers and solo in several guises, more about Ari Up was a musical icon in her own right, not a bit player on the fringes of the John Lydon circus.
Illustration by Gemma Milly
The granddaughter of the owner of Der Spiegel and daughter of Nora Foster who was at the centre of the London music scene for years (befriending Hendrix and dating Chris Spedding before finally marrying Johnny Rotten), Ari Up was born from privilege and chaos in equal measure.
Nora’s tendency to invite poor punk musicians to bunk down at their house put Ari at the heart of the scene and got her guitar tuition from Joe Strummer. She was 14 when she formed The Slits with Strummer’s former-flatmate Palmolive. Her fascination with reggae gave the band a dubby feel that was in sharp contrast to the guitar thrashing of many other punk outfits.
Illustration by Aniela Murphy
Illustration by Abi Daker
The Slits debut album Cut, with its memorable image of the band naked but for grass skirts and a liberal coating of mud, featured a cleaner sound than their live performances. While the band’s cover of I Heard It Through The Grapevine is still an indie disco staple, the record is studded with gems particularly the amateurish piano and bouncing bass of Typical Girls.
Illustration by Faye West
The Splits broke up in 1981 and Ari moved with her husband and twins to Indonesia and Belize before heading for Jamaica, an appropriate location given her an enduring love of reggae and dub. She performed and recorded with Lee Scratch Perry and released a solo album, Dread More Dan Dead, in 2005.
In 2006, The Slits reformed to some critical acclaim, releasing the Return of The Giant Slits EP which was followed by a new full length record, Trapped Animals, in October last year.The Slits final work together, a video for the Trapped Animals track Lazy Slam, was released yesterday in accordance with Ari’s final wishes.
Illustration by Gemma Sheldrake
A whirling dervish of dreadlocks and energy even when The Slits returned in their middle-aged incarnation, it’s with sad inevitability that Ari Up will be pegged as John Lydon’s step-daughter first and a musician in her own right second. But more thoughtful souls will remember her as one of punk’s most distinctive voices whose work with The Slits confounded and confronted the heavy-handed misogyny of much mainstream punk – The Stranglers, I’m looking at you.
The death of Ari up has deprived music of one of its most original and unpredictable voices. It’s a truly sad day.
Gathering at Waterloo Station. Photo by Amelia Gregory.
It’s the day of the Crude Awakening. I walk into Waterloo station on Saturday morning and spot a few familiar faces. We wander around trying to look nonchalant, more about giving each other secret smiles. Some people manage to look more discreet and ‘normal’ than others; standing in a group to one side of me is a fabulous gaggle of drag queen laundry ladies, treat all answering to the name of Dot. (A few weeks ago police turned up at a few activists’ houses and were spotted searching them for clothes that matched those worn by people at the Climate Swoop at Ratcliffe on Soar coal fired power station last year. The Space Hijackers‘ Laundry ladies were on hand to give people “an instant restyling that the police fashion hounds were not able to keep up with”.) Suddenly, a little after 10am we give up on the nonchalance and things start to happen. A large collection of ‘oil’ spattered white jackets appear as if from nowhere, legal observers handed out ‘bust cards’ with useful numbers and info about your legal rights, and people started passing around little blue and yellow flags.
Beep beep. All around me I can see people reaching for their mobiles. Before the weekend we had all signed up for a text messaging service that would be sending out updates throughout the day.
We set off in a stream of people down the escalators into the tube. I can imagine it might be a bit of a shock for Saturday shoppers to suddenly come across hundreds of oddly dressed people! On the tube I get chatting to this ace older woman who wants to know all about us and is full of questions, thanks, and words of encouragement.
On the train. Photo by sinisterpictures.
Our train is mysteriously delayed so we all pile out at the next stop and start walking through the streets of London. Apparently people overhear some cops running through the list of possible targets, trying to work out where we are going. Safe to say, they don’t work it out in time.
Police accompany activists as they reach Fenchurch Street. Photo by Amelia Gregory
When we get to Fenchurch Street station the shout goes out to head for Platform 4. We get onto the waiting train with still no idea where we are going. As the train heads out of the station an A4 flyer which is being passed around the train is thrust into my hand. We’re on route to Coryton, the UK’s busiest oil refinery (responsible for 22% of the UK’s forecourt demand)!
Photo by sinisterpictures.
Hell yeah! I’d guessed that we were maybe going to target an oil company head office but we are actually going to go and put ourselves literally in the path of the flow of oil. Peak oil may be fast approaching but not fast enough that what’s left won’t royally screw up the climate if we burn it. Business, governments and other vested interests have shown time and time again that they don’t want to do anything about it. That means it’s down to us, together.
Photo by Kristian Buus.
The train is a hive of activity. People discuss the target as they go through the goody bags that have been handed out. Everyone tries on a carabiner wrist straps (a crucial part of arm tube lock-ons that we use to blockade spaces, and which make it easier for us to be removed from somewhere we have ‘locked on’ to).
Photo by sinisterpictures.
Even while we are on the train 12 women blockade the only entrance to Coryton refinery by attaching themselves to the underside of vehicles but they won’t be able to hold the road for long without us. The three different themed blocs (Dirty Money bloc, Building bloc and Body bloc) hasten to join them.
Photos by Kristian Buus.
Stanford-le-Hope is outside of the Oyster card zone so none of us have a valid ticket once we pass Grays. In what is to become a theme for the day there are too many of us working together for any obstacle to be insurmountable. We simply walk through the barriers out of the station and make our way to the refinery in our three different blocs, stopping briefly to pick up some kit stashed under a hedge on the way.
Photo by sinisterpictures.
Basically all the seriously under prepared police can do is follow us and watch us do precisely what we want. They have a go at seizing one of the tripods from my bloc and I heard rumours of attempted arrests (and prompt de-arrests) on the other blocs.
Locals join the protest. Photo by Kristian Buus.
Photo by sinisterpictures.
Travelling cross country we make it to our target location on the Coryton Oil Refinery entrance road, just up from the Shell Haven turning (two oil targets in one, woop woop!). There is a truly beautiful moment as, count ‘em, 12 tripods go up in moments and the road is ours. Now, you may not know this already but the ‘traditional’ metal tripods you see on protests are a bit of a pain-they’re blimmin’ heavy and take 4 or 5 people to erect. Bamboo tripods, as trialled in this video released before the action, can be carried, erected and climbed by just one person in a pinch.
Day of the Dead stilt bloc, photos by Jody Boehnert.
Through the day our blockade gradually grows as we are joined by other blocs, including the beautiful ‘Day of the Dead’ stilt walkers. We grow so strong that the police, after marching at the barricade in a little phalanx, are quickly forced to retreat and let us get on with it. But we do lift a small section of the blockade briefly though in order to let the workers out at the end of their shift. As we’ve said many times before, we have no quarrel with the ordinary workers of polluting industries; we’re on the same side.
Photo by Kristian Buus.
Locals tell us that oil tankers normally drive up and down this stretch of road every few minutes so all the time we are there we are preventing thousands of gallons of dirty oil from reaching the capital – 375,000 gallons in total. What’s even better is the fact that this isn’t just us taking action. Crude Awakening is part of a global week of action called for by the Climate Justice Action Network (CJA). We are just one of many protests taking place on the same day by people from 22 different countries… from the Philippines to Argentina.
Photo by Kristian Buus.
Photo by sinisterpictures.
It truly is an amazing day. 500 of us working together to stop the flow of oil with no one able to stop us. Oh, and the police have to hold the train station barriers open to let us on to the train home – the cherry on the cake of an empowering day.
Film by You and I Films.
Categories ,Blocs, ,Climate Camp, ,Climate Justice Action, ,Climate Justice Action Network, ,Climate Swoop, ,Coryton Oil Refinery, ,Crude Awakening, ,Direct Action, ,Jody Boehnert, ,Kristian Buus, ,Peak Oil, ,police, ,Shell Haven, ,sinisterpictures, ,Space Hijackers, ,Stanford-le-Hope, ,Tripods, ,You and I Films
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