A strong woman is a weak man’s worst nightmare; sticking their noses into stuff that shouldn’t concern them. Art, Education, Music, Politics, an ever growing list, which will only get bigger as the girls get smarter. Intelligence and competence are the new tits and arse to grab the male attention, and to keep their eye line a little higher.

It wasn’t always thus as we know, women should be seen and not heard was the mantra, even as recently as the late seventies, but not for women such as The Slits, Poly Styrene, Chrissie Hynde and Vivienne Westwood to name a tiny few. No better place to gain an insight into what is like for a woman trying to get along in a male dominated arena such as the music business, than Viv Albertine’s book “Clothes Clothes Clothes, Music Music Music, Boys Boys Boys”.

Brutally honest, often showing a side of her personality that many others would shy away from. Her perpetual problems with bodily functions, embarrassing sexual exploits and a constant self effacing description of her limited musical prowess, all go into the mix to give a conflicting picture of a confident/unconfident woman. She would be totally outspoken and single minded on the one hand, but a nagging self doubt would never be far away from the surface. Punk, as it was for so many other people, was the vehicle that would drive her desire to be a musician, the ethos of punk was the fact that anyone could do it. You just had to have a little bit of talent, but a wealth of imagination to put your ideas into a piece of art, be it music, painting, or ceramics. (All of which Viv did at some point). She joined the fledgling Slits after seeing them play their ramshackle noise at  early gig, fronted by a 14 years old Ari Upp, and slowly developed into being their organiser, lyricist, guitarist, and songwriter.

She was romantically  linked with some of the main players of the punk scene; Mick Jones and Johnny Thunders being the most serious of her liaisons. But the male ‘suits’ at the record companies, and even some of  the fans didn’t know whether they wanted to fight them or to fuck them. For me they just inspired me politically to become a male feminist (if such a thing exists, without being patronising), and musically to embrace the natural progression from punk to the post punk bands. The Pop Group, Gang of Four, Delta 5 (more opinionated ladies), still gave out the attitude but instead of shouting and posturing, they put a dance beat to it. Albeit sometimes a dysfunctional, erratic, rhythmic syncopation, it none the less enhanced my learning curve in my drumming techniques. I was already a massive reggae fanatic, particularly dub, and The Slits were a big influence on me.Viv moves on from the band and music altogether, getting into film making, production, and a wide variety of visual arts projects, with a considerable amount of success, as well as a period as a dance teacher at Pineapple studios.

Eventually and inevitably she settles down and gets married to become a ‘Hastings housewife’, but it’s never that simple in Viv’s life. Several years of trying for a baby on the IVF programme end up with numerous heartbreaking results, until eventually she is rewarded with a daughter. Her husband is referred to in the book as just that: husband. Her daughter also remains nameless in the text, and for a while things are looking good. Once again though the doubts and uncertainties creep back into her psyche; is she a good mother, wife, house maker, person?

The book ends with her explanations of the writing of the book, plus the recollections of how her first musical output since The Slits came to fruition, ‘Confessions of a MILF’, produced by Mick Jones, which brings things more or less full circle. Possibly.

If you only read one book this year, make it this one.

Gareth Ashton