![]() Even when we went for a Sunday lunchtime pint, we would exchange our Levis and Fred Perry, for a suit, and a freshly pressed button down shirt and tie. ![]() The sportswear fad, which is so predominant these days, pales into comparison, and as for style, it as much class as a box of Brillo pads. It wasn’t cheap being a dedicated follower of fashion, but as far as I am concerned, it’s the most stylish look of the last 50 years. We had our suits made at one of the many chains of clothes shops that were about in the sixties. ![]() Bruv’ and I earned about £6 a week and had to make do with a Mohair and wool mixture that was less expensive. If you could afford it, you went to your local Jewish tailor, and got him to knock you one up in tonic. My brother and I were confirmed Mods, and followed the dress code, where no self-respecting Mod would be seen out, in anything less than a tailor-made Mohair suit. Oh yeah, if you had money, it swung like a bitch in heat, but for ‘Joe Normal’ you worked Monday to Friday, and looked forward to having it large at the weekend. When reminiscing about this decade, it’s fashionable to talk about what a great time it was to be a teenager, but it wasn’t quite as swinging as it’s made out to be. It was a heady time to be a teenager, not only had we won the World Cup, British music ruled the airwaves. In 1966, when Bobby Moore lifted the Jules Rimet trophy, it felt like a victory for the Hammers, as well as England. Like most teenagers, we were football mad I supported West Ham, and an ‘Iron’, through and through. We were a new generation, with a new attitude, and the first teenagers that could do their own thing. ![]() In came a ‘New Model Army’, the MODS, with their smart, short haircuts, dressed in sharp, Ivy League Mohair suits, with a dash of European flair, Desert boots, and scooters. The music of the sixties influenced a new generation and, like a turbo charged Dyson cleaner, out went Rock ‘n’ Roll, motorcycles, and greasy haircuts. Like most switched on kids of my generation, I listened to the new wave of Britpop, which snowballed rapidly, and sounded the death knoll for the artists from the fifties. As I look back at where I came from, it’s hard to believe what has happened. In many ways, my lifestyle mirrored that of the fans that followed The Jam, The Style Council, and Paul Weller’s long, and never ending solo career. ("Shout to the Top" has remained a popular dance club track for this reason, covered by an actual Philly soul institution, Loleatta Holloway, with the UK production duo Fire Island in the late '90s.) Although Weller was again exploring mostly political themes in his lyrics during this era, there's a Curtis Mayfield-like spirituality to "Shout To The Top," a positive message in the face of Great Britain's worsening political and economic milieu of the times that perfectly suits the soaring melodic rush of the tune.When I was growing up on a notorious Council estate in South-East London, during the sixties, I had no inkling of my future. Lee (who would soon become an official member of the Style Council, not to mention Weller's wife) and Alison Limerick, and Talbot's bass-heavy piano riffs, "Shout to the Top" really cooks in a way that the group's earlier uptempo singles never quite managed for the first time, the Style Council sound genuinely funky. Powered by a lush yet propulsive string section, soul-chick backing vocals by Dee C. Continuing the unbroken string of great singles the Style Council released between the spring of 1983 and the summer of 1985, late '84's "Shout To The Top" is an unapologetic homage to the Philadelphia International sound of the early to mid-'70s, a style of music much beloved by old soul boys like Paul Weller and Mick Talbot.
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