Category: Opinion

By Ozzy Styles

My name is Ozzy Stylez and I am one of Birmingham’s many, many “benefits scroungers”, the likes of which you have no doubt seen or heard about on Channel 4’s hot new documentary Benefits Street.

I had hoped to appear on the documentary myself, as I have always harboured ambitions of fame and notoriety. Unfortunately I didn’t quite match the criteria that the documentary makers behind the controversial new series were looking for.

For starters my teeth are in pretty good condition (according to a dental nurse I know) and my skin has yet to take on a pallid, leathery appearance. This is most likely down to my infrequent drink and drug use. I also don’t own a tracksuit, and the clothes that I do wear –  usually a pair of smart fitted jeans and a warm jumper (or flattering shirts in the summer months) – are frequently washed and occasionally ironed.

Perhaps I could change my ways a little to be considered for the second series, but I can’t afford a new sport themed wardrobe, nor can I afford to start smoking or drinking frequently. It is a shame, but that is the reality of life on £71.50 a week. I actually used to live in the Winson Green area of Birmingham where Benefits Street is set, but unfortunately for my hopes of appearing on the show, I was gainfully employed at the time.

I suppose that I do live an enviable existence though, one that would make many of this nation’s employed green with jealousy. I wake up when I want and usually start the day by casually sliding my laptop across the duvet and searching the job market at my leisure, applying for anything that I am suited to. Unfortunately there are about 51,105 others in my position chasing only 6,949 jobs in the Birmingham area (according to last February’s TUC figures) so I frequently come up against dead ends and rejections.

This can be a fairly demoralising way to begin a day, so after a few hours I get up, wash and dress, feed myself and then begin to think about the evening meal that I will cook for my partner when she returns from her job. Because she is in work and living with me, I am not entitled to housing benefit. This puts extra strain on our relationship as she can’t afford to pay my half of the rent on her meagre salary, despite what the government might expect her to do. When money is tight couples argue more, no matter how much they love each other.

At one point during the opening program in this new documentary series, a rather menacing sounding weed farmer dressed up like Heisenberg from Breaking Bad claims that “Basically everyone does something on the side when they’re on benefits, it can be from selling tobacco [to] going shoplifting.” He has a point; my sideline is creative writing and playing music in a band. I suppose that I always saw myself as an entertainer, and I use some of the long hours in my frequently tedious unemployed days to pursue artistic endeavours that I didn’t always have time for when I was at work. Rather than waste time being bored I try as best as I can to realise the dreams I have always held in my heart.

However, my attempts to entertain, document and explore the world I live in through artistic means of expression have been somewhat trivialised by the current government, and the cuts to arts funding announced by Chancellor George Osbourne last July were a kick in the teeth to me and others like me. The chances of me being able to earn a living doing the things I am good at and enjoy are getting slimmer.

Instead I am expected to fight against 7 ½ other people for each of the jobs on the market in my area. There is no guarantee that I will actually enjoy any of these roles either. But it is my duty to slave away at whatever scraps are thrown at my feet, ignoring the dreams that I have had since I was a boy, to join this grim rat race so that I can bare my teeth to the legions of Daily Mail readers looking down at me with disgust and seethe, “I have worth, I contribute to society.”

I found myself in this situation because I was made redundant. I was not fired for gross misconduct, I wasn’t sniffing aerosols at work and I wasn’t slacking off. I didn’t get bored of going to work, but rather enjoyed my job and had made good friends with many of my colleagues. I tried to do my job to the best of my ability, but the company that I worked for was a small business that was struggling to stay afloat in an extremely difficult economic climate.

It is my opinion that our nation is not being bankrupted by a culture of ‘benefit scroungers’ despite what the government and incendiary documentary makers might have us believe. If Channel 4 really wanted to make a documentary that got to the heart of this country’s financial woes, then they should have considered the activities of the heads of some of the UK’s biggest grossing corporations, namely those who use off-shore bank accounts to avoid losing a few of their many millions to pesky taxation. After all, only 0.7% of social security payments are lost to fraudulent claimants (and yes, two of these claimants live on James Turner Street and appeared on Benefits Street). However, whilst this accounts for about £1.2 billion, this shortfall is made up for in the £16 billion of benefits that go unclaimed each year.

These figures are in turn dwarfed by the £25 billion lost to wealthy tax dodgers who choose not to bare their teeth to the nation and say “I contribute to society” and keep all the money they should pay in tax for themselves. Channel 4 might need some convincing to make a documentary about these people, who seem like normal God-fearing folk on the surface. It would certainly be less of a freak show and make for less invigorating TV. It was telling that Benefits Street (itself a tasteless play on the phrase ‘benefits cheat’) was immediately followed by another jaw dropping, eyeball popping documentary about men who like to dress up as dolls and take pictures of themselves.

I am pretty sure that if the Inland Revenue were to be given guns, black SAS style uniforms and sunglasses, and a documentary team followed them around the country as they kicked in the doors to the offices of wealthy business owners banking off shore to avoid paying tax, then they would see a similar reaction to the one they got in the first episode of Benefits Street when they followed petty shoplifter Danny as he tried to break his ASBO and push past police to return to the Bullring for a ‘meeting’.

They would no doubt capture on film a reaction of initial self righteousness, followed by anger as the situation escalated in seriousness, followed by full on gnashing of teeth and spitting as the highly motivated and violent Inland Revenue SWAT team smashed his face into his solid oak desk with the butt of their semi-automatic weapons, bent him over double to put the handcuffs on him and read him his rights.

The truth of the matter is that when an animal is cornered it will fight for its life, no matter how much money it’s earning. And I know a lot of people that would happily pay the price of a TV licence to watch that program alone.

_______

Little is known about Ozzy Stylez.

Those that have tried to find out more about him have met with a series of increasingly more mysterious accidents. What we do know is that he resides in the middle bit of England and could be at your next event, quietly judging you over a White Russian with two different coloured straws and an umbrella in it.

Questions and comments can be sent, at the individual’s own risk, to ozzystylez2@hotmail.com

By Ann Sulaiman

Things on my bucket list, number 2400 – 2403:

– Finish my first comic

– Explore Norway

– Go to the Roadburn Festival in the Netherlands

– Buy a winged horse and name it Fluttershy

“My, Ann, what an odd list!”

”The horse?”

”The festival! What is this – ‘Roadburn’? Why would you want to attend a Dutch biker convention?”

First of all, it’s a heavy metal festival, not a biker convention. Now before you walk out on me, because I threw the words ‘heavy metal’ out there, let me explain my eagerness to go:

For one, word on the street is that Roadburn has its own cult following, and with good reason, if you love doom metal and its subgenres.

The deep, low roars of funeral doom, the rock ‘n’ roll moves of traditional doom (for the record, see old-school Black Sabbath and Pentagram), the staggering crush of death doom (namely disEmbowelment and Hooded Menace) – hell, even stoner doom which draws on the rhythms of stoner rock for its down tuned psychedelia. (If you like stoner rock, that is, but I digress.)

In short, the chance to catch quality doom metal, live, in one spot sounds damn tasty to me.

Secondly, it’s been said that the lure of Roadburn is so great, that bands seem to reunite just to play it.

The aforementioned disEmbowelment, who are considered pioneers of the death doom sound, came back together after nineteen years to play Roadburn 2012; before swiftly returning to obscurity.

But Roadburn’s also a pull for bands just striking out, with young acts keen to make it over to the festival.

Case in point, Rhode Island upstarts Pilgrim performed their own, fresh take on old school metal, while fellow Americans Castle played a dirtier, smokier brand of heavy rock the same day.

Then England’s own traditional doom outfit Witchsorrow took the show at the Green Room stage on the Friday afterward.

What these three bands have in common, aside from a genuine quality and spirit behind the music they play, is that they’re all newcomers seeking to make a name for themselves in the doom genre, let alone heavy metal. So what better place to do this than a place where they can also rub heads with the likes of other, more established bands such as Electric Wizard or Sigh?

And if that’s not enough, my next point should further clarify my eagerness to get to Roadburn someday.

Apparently, some artists on the Roadburn bill dedicate their festival setlist to playing whole albums from their back catalogues.

For instance, doom metal legends Candlemass played their first album, ‘Epicus Doomicus Metallicus’ at the festival in 2011, while Canadian thrash legends Voivod Did the same for ‘Dimension Hatröss’ the following year.

Roadburn 2013 saw industrial metal heavyweights Godflesh, who – since getting back together some time ago – treated their fans to a full play of their third LP, ‘Pure’.

I have no idea who’s going to be playing at Roadburn 2014, but this premise is a music lover’s dream.

I’m still kicking myself for not finding out about Roadburn until last year. So come on, bucket list, make it happen. Let me go to the Roadburn Festival at least thrice (yes, thrice, since it sounds too good to only be experienced once in my lifetime).

Then you can get me a horse named Fluttershy.

Ann Sulaiman is Birmingham Review’s resident metal head, and author of Me(n)tal Meltdown.

Read more from Ann Sulaiman at http://metalmelt.wordpress.com

By Ann Sulaiman

On Tuesday, March 12th 2013, metalheads throughout the world expressed their condolences on the news that Clive Burr, the original drummer for Iron Maiden, lost his lengthy battle with multiple sclerosis and passed away in his sleep.

Although, I didn’t know much (if anything) about him until word of his death spread online; and to be frank, it didn’t register with me the same way as the death of Type O Negative‘s Pete Steele or Ronnie James Dio did back in 2010.

However seeing how mainstream press, from Yahoo! News to The Guardian, didn’t give more than a very brief obituary on Clive Burr (which look suspiciously similar to one another), I decided to do some digging of my own.

Here’s what I found:

Iron Maiden fans (who are heralded as being a loyal part of the international metal scene) remember Clive Burr for his work on the band’s first three albums; all of which hold a legacy as being part of Iron Maiden‘s most stellar material.

A friend told me that while current drummer Nicko McBraino has more of a jazz style to his sound, Clive Burr was more of a heavy metal drummer – which fitted the earlier, rough quality of the first records.

Band line-ups are frequently subject to changes for a variety of reasons, from personal issues – such as that infamous rift between Metallica‘s Lars Ulrich and Megadeth founder Dave Mustaine, to simply a lack of passion.

But in Burr’s case, the reason for his departure wasn’t precisely clear.

Especially as it came in 1982, following the release of ‘Number of the Beast’; the album which saw a key progression in Iron Maiden‘s sound from its raw, filthier punk and hard rock leanings towards the galloping, high-end notes that have become their signature today.

Burr even held credit for co-authoring a song from that album, ‘Gangland’; one of Iron Maiden‘s meatier songs from their back catalogue.

In an exclusive interview with the French edition of Rock Hard magazine, Burr had this to say:

”The decision [for my dismissal] was probably made by the band, or… Steve Harris, [as] it’s always been his band right from the start, and, you know, I never came over one day saying, ‘That’s it, I’ve had enough, I quit.’ I simply accepted the decision as it was.”

Clive Burr soon moved on to, temporarily, play for bands like Gogmagog, Elixir and Desperado with Twisted Sister’s Dee Snider; even having a small side project of his own, entitled ‘Clive Burr’s Escape’. Although none of these ventures led to much success, most likely due to poor management and bad record company choices (as can sadly happen with the fickle nature of the music industry).

Then in 2001 Burr’s luck changed for the worst, when he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS).

MS would not only make it difficult for Burr to play the drums again, but would also ironically reunite him with Iron Maiden. On hearing that the illness had crippled Burr for life and put him in risk of homelessness (with treatment costs making it difficult for him to keep up with house payments), the band soon set up the Clive Burr MS Trust Fund, to help their former colleague as well as other MS sufferers.

By January 2007, the charity had raised a total of £235,000 which was more than enough to help Burr pay for his basic needs and the necessary treatment for his condition. It also covered the mounting debt on his house, where he recently died peacefully.

While he was still alive, and later after the diagnosis of MS, Clive Burr made a few rare, public appearances with Iron Maiden in 2002, during three charity concerts held for him at the Brixton Academy. Owing to the special cause behind them, metalheads from all over England travelled great distances to show their support.

Noted by both fan (and the band) to be a good person who never lost his sense of humour, you get a glimpse of the kinship between Burr and his former bandmates in the video clip below. Before his confinement to a wheelchair, Burr stands onstage, where he throws drumsticks to the crowd, showing his gratitude to his friends with a hug:

(Click to play)

 And there you have it, this is what I had been able to dig up on Clive Burr – during the brief period that I heard about his passing.

Being as young as I am, physically and as a metalhead, there’s always so much history for me to learn about as well as listen to.

So if you need me, I’m going to listen to some early Iron Maiden.

Ann Sulaiman is Birmingham Review’s resident metal head, and author of Me(n)tal Meltdown.

Read more from Ann Sulaiman athttp://metalmelt.wordpress.com

By Ann Sulaiman

“Does Heavy Metal really need any defenders in the public eye?”

Those of you who know me might remember a spontaneous rant on my blog about a media pattern that irritates me. A pattern often responsible for the question above.

That particular blog post was sparked by an article on the rock/metal news site Blabbermouth, in which Laina Dawes defended Heavy Metal against a study, conducted in the Netherlands, that claimed listening to ‘rebellious music’ led teenagers towards a life of anti-social delinquency, and claimed to have evidence for it.

It wasn’t so much the study that irritated me, or whether I disagreed with Dawes (on the contrary, she has valuable points about Heavy Metal’s role as a catharsis), but the ongoing pattern that seems to take place within the media:

A socially respected professional attacks Heavy Metal – a metalhead runs to defend it. Another socially respected professional attacks Heavy Metal – another metalhead runs to defend it.

Rinse and repeat.

Really, there are more than two ways to feel about this cycle:

Those who want to be left alone by society over their musical preferences, could embrace Heavy Metal’s defense against the scrutiny of the public eye, that polices their every move.

Some might even take the fact that the genre is being lambasted as a cause for celebration; a sign that the spirit of rebellion is alive, well and keeping the mainstream scared.

Or others will just push the whole debate aside, for it brings nothing of value or interest to the table. At least nothing that’s not been raised several times before.

During the 1980’s, Judas Priest were accused of leading the teenage son of a ‘wholesome’ American family to suicide through subliminal messages. Some people believe that pregnant women who listen to heavy metal will harm their unborn babies. And – according to the Jordanian band Bilocate and noted musician Ashmedi (of Melechesh fame) – metalheads in the Middle East have been sent to jail on the pretext of heresy, regardless of their actual beliefs.

It’s nothing new. Society overreacts to different subcultures all the time (you could argue I do the same for hipsters, but I’ll get on to my disdain for that group another time) and subcultures, in turn, defend themselves.

But does Heavy Metal need to be defended in the public eye?

My immediate reaction is ‘no’; simply because I’ve found that even if you speak in earnest about your passion for something, people can still mock you for it. They will still label you a ‘freak’ because they don’t share your understanding, as innocuous as it is.

And it’s not just Heavy metal; other musical genres are unfairly punished too.

It wasn’t that long ago Indonesian punks were being forced to have their heads shaved, and back in the UK Sophie Lancaster was attacked and killed for being a Goth (or ‘mosher’, as she was termed by both her assailants and passers-by who phoned the emergency services).

So to put a stop to such extreme persecution, over musical preference, should Goth, Punk and Heavy Metal defend themselves in the public eye?

I’m afraid that it might be more complicated than my immediate response, especially when you stretch it out to a wider picture. And without doing any disservice to people who have their own privacies, lives and safety violated at the hands of others, due to blind fear and hatred, I don’t have a fitting answer.

But what I do know, what’s more within my own sight, is this.

No matter what we say about the music, what its positive effect are on our lives, or how it makes us feel – mainstream society isn’t going to listen.

Ann Sulaiman is Birmingham Review’s resident metal head, and author of Me(n)tal Meltdown.

Read more from Ann Sulaiman at http://metalmelt.wordpress.com