Free 1982 by Jian Ghomeshi Page B

English Beat were about dancing. And most important, the Beat had groove. It was infectious. It seemed like everyone loved the Beat.
    The Beat only ever released three studio albums. By the mid-’80s, two of the main members had moved on to form General Public, and two others had gone on to form Fine Young Cannibals. But neither of these bands would ever trump the Beat. And only the Beat had a senior Jamaican saxophone player named Saxa. You might think it was silly that the sax player was named Saxa. But it wasn’t. He was cool, even though he was old. Black musicians with beards and hats were already cool, and they looked even cooler when they were old. They got better. Not like Mr. Margison in the Thornhill Community Band, with his balding head that became red when he was angry. Saxa was still performing with the Beat in 1982. And ’82 was probably the best year for the English Beat. It was that year that the Beat released their third and final album, Special Beat Service , featuring the song “I Confess.” It was also that summer that they were playing for the last time with their original lineup.
    The Beat were dazzling fun at the Police Picnic. Lead singer Dave Wakeling caught a Frisbee during “I Confess” and threw it back without missing a lyric. Ranking Roger was hopping around the stage, and Saxa was waving his arms between sax lines. Wendy really liked the Beat. We were dancing andpogo-ing with our hands in the air. Forbes the punk was jumping around like a madman with his arms in the air, too. His flailing had the effect of exposing his hairy armpits. His armpits came very close to my head at times. He was tall. He was giving the finger to people in what seemed like a form of affection or appreciation, much like the way the punters had cheered for Siouxsie when she told us to fuck off. The fun was widespread and the mood in the stadium was undeniably unified. For a little while during the English Beat’s set at the Police Picnic, with the sun shining brightly and Wendy at my side, it really seemed like things couldn’t get much better. But events were about to take an unfortunate turn.
    At some point, the promoters behind the second annual Police Picnic had thought it a good idea to include Joan Jett and the Blackhearts on the bill. After all, Joan Jett had a hit song and had come from some cool musical roots. She might sell tickets. She was a legit rocker when she formed the Runaways as a teenager in the 1970s, and she had worked with members of the Sex Pistols and X. But what the promoters misjudged was that Joan Jett had become very popular in the mainstream. And that was not cool. Not with this crowd.
    Let me try to explain. There was a strong divide at the time between those who fancied themselves alternative and those who followed mainstream music. The alternative music lovers were really into the innovation and changes that were happening in music. They were strongly influenced by what was coming out of England or New York. There were sometimes noisy and harsh sounds. This new music would at times also incorporate many non-rock sources and influences. The enemy was the mainstream, the corporate American acts. They were seen asbeing stuck in the past, manufacturing airbrushed “meat and potatoes” commercial radio songs, albeit with electric guitars. Joan Jett had been an alternative original, but after her slick, radio-friendly “I Love Rock ’n Roll” became ubiquitous that year, she was regarded as part of the mainstream. The enemy.
    When Joan Jett hit the stage, the reaction wasn’t pretty. From the moment she and her band emerged from the wings, the crowd was less than welcoming. The New Wave and punk audience started booing her mercilessly. And even before Joan Jett played the first chord on her guitar, a banana peel came shooting out of the crowd and just missed her head. The band tore into their opening song and Joan Jett began singing, but the crowd reaction just got worse. Wendy and