DON'T LET THE BASTARDS GRIND YOU DOWN

The history books may record that the Beatles and U2 both played to the locals of Stroud, but it was my brother's punk band, Custom Software, that really spoke to the visceral spirit of life in the cutting edge Cotswold town where I grew up.

Being a child of the 80's, the whole concept of punk was pretty much alien to me but I had some sense of its energy in the renegade spirit of my older brother (South London born) who I remember back then as being like a cross between Arthur Seaton, Johnny Rotten and George Emerson.

At the crucial moment in the history of music in which Custom Software was formed as a group, we were all living together in the semi-derelict Trafalgar House, which felt like a cross between Rising Damp, The Tardis and The Old Curiosity Shop.

Did someone say draughty? We spent years without a fridge which was fine because the whole house was a fridge. My brother lived on the top floor which resembled a scene from an old fashioned ghost story, complete with dusty wooden crates collected from the fruit grocers where he worked part time whilst consuming copious amounts of hot Ribena.

They say heat always rises but in the case of Trafalgar House it appeared the opposite was the case with any flicker of warmth plummeting like a stone through the ground floor and never coming back up again. I often felt as if my big brother was proving some point of pride with his masochistic machismo just to demonstrate how much of a spartan he was by keeping the windows open in a room that was already ice cold freezing.

The only thing insulating the top floor of the house was my brother Colin's vast collection of original orange and white classic Penguin paperbacks which he devoured consistently. A Room At The Top was not only a literal reality for him but also a favourite of the kitchen sink, working class novels he partially modelled his own punk persona on, along with that other Northern classic, Saturday Night & Sunday Morning by Alan Sillitoe which was to have further significance down the line.

Talented at football as well as doing a handy line in Cotswold stone walling, Colin was quickly becoming an unconventional polymath, studying Shakespeare for his evening college English literature course and writing polemical lyrics for his newly formed punk/funk band, Custom Software.

A Jack Charlton of all trades, it always seemed to me back then that Colin was the master of re-invention: from grocer to builder, student to artist, footballing wizard to fitness instructor, no profession had been overlooked by this big brother. Even to this day, he continues to add increasing skills to his stack which makes one-string wonders like me look increasingly worthless.

Just kidding! ^^

Living on the greatest street on earth (named after Nelson, no less), it was convenient for my brother and his new punk band to have an unofficial residency at The Marshall Rooms which had famously hosted many iconic bands before they hit the big time.

It was an unusual, but privileged situation, to be able to stroll down the street from Trafalgar House to the Marshall Rooms - sort of like having Stroud's version of the Hacienda pretty much outside your door.

I can't remember too much about the concerts themselves except for my brother generally hollering with conviction and seeming to have a stage presence that resembled a whiter, thinner version of James Brown.

Regional celebrity can bring with it its own burdens and for Colin it was having to shout out his younger brother on Severn Sound radio when I was tucked up in bed.

Having an almost famous brother was definitely a benefit rather than a hindrance when it came to impressing classmates and reciting the somewhat controversial lyrics of Custom Software's biggest hit, "Don't Let The Bastards Grind You Down", inspired by the catchphrase of working class hero Arthur Seaton in Saturday Night & Sunday Morning. Of course, the dinner ladies weren't so impressed with a bunch of junior school kids shouting the words "bastards" at the top of their voices but such was the electrifiying effect of Custom Software's all too brief moment in the annals of Punk music history.

Maybe it's time for a comeback?

Maybe not.

Happy Birthday, Colin!

19/04/2022