I wanna be your vacuum cleaner
breathing in your dust
I wanna be your Ford Cortina
I will never rust
–John Cooper Clarke
The Arctic Monkey’s first album, Whatever People Say That I Am, That’s What I’m Not, continues to receive recognition from noted critics and is now ranked among the greatest albums in history. This debut album is among the bestsellers in the history of England, and as a result, they are now seen as one of the last greatest rock bands left. Alex Turner was still a teenager when he composed these deeply moving and complex lyrics. We can see how deeply inspired he was by John Lennon, Noel Gallagher and Damon Albarn, but an influence that is often overlooked and which has influenced the trajectory of the Arctic Monkeys is the madness of John Cooper Clarke.
It is difficult to label Clarke as a poet, musician, and performance artist, for he elevated the punk genre to a literary level. He embodied the fury of the subculture movement by creating a personal freedom based on the written and spoken word. His songs weren’t complex, but behind his sunglasses and acidic sense of humor we find an explosive honesty that takes your breath away. Alex Turner has always spoken of Cooper Clarke as a true, influential master, and he certainly has left his mark in British culture.
This complicated poet was a young singer who rose in the punk scene and who collaborated with different groups until he decided to establish himself as a writer when he discovered that Pam Ayres had been able to thrive and “create a new life” through the written word.
His position as the Poet of Punk was achieved thanks to simplicity. In his eyes, for many years poetry had been dominated by intellectuals and academics, so he decided to develop it in the way he understood and felt it. Reading Clarke’s words was only a small part of the experience; on stage the man exuded the true spirit of punk.
During his time on the punk scene as a poet and musician, he performed his most noted pieces, such as “Evidently Chicken Town,” “Things Are Gonna Get Worse,” and “I Married an Alien from Outer Space.” In his repertoire one particular poem stands out, “I Wanna Be Yours,” as it was later on adapted by the Arctic Monkeys. This theme appears in their latest production, “AM” that mixes the poetry of both artists and serves as a romantic and grotesque lament.
“I Wanna be Yours”
I wanna be your vacuum cleaner
breathing in your dust
I wanna be your Ford Cortina
I will never rust
If you like your coffee hot
let me be your coffee pot
You call the shots
I wanna be yours
I wanna be your raincoat
for those frequent rainy days
I wanna be your dreamboat
when you want to sail away
Let me be your teddy bear
take me with you anywhere
I don’t care
I wanna be yours
I wanna be your electric meter
I will not run out
I wanna be the electric heater
you’ll get cold without
I wanna be your setting lotion
hold your hair in deep devotion
Deep as the deep Atlantic ocean
that’s how deep is my devotion–This poem has now been once again immortalized in song, and its new reinterpretation keeps its rebellious spirit intact. The song and poem express a deep longing and desire for someone; Clarke upon hearing this new homage was pleased with the results. The changes Turner made to the poem were accepted by the composer, as he felt this reimagining a natural part of the creative process.
Secrets I have held in my heart
Are harder to hide than I thought
Maybe I just wanna be yours
With only slight changes Turner was able to create an excellent song that embodies Clarke’s heartfelt emotions. Dotted across their albums we can see the influence this punk poet has had on the band, specially in tracks like “From The Ritz To The Bubble” and “Whatever People Say.”
For his part, Clarke just like the Sex Pistols, enjoyed a brief career that lasted for three years. He developed a strong addiction to heroin alongside Nico from The Velvet Underground during 1982. He was able to recover, but it would take him decades to produce new material, and it was then that he was able to fully understand the influence he has had on popular culture.
Schools across Britain have begun to incorporate Cooper Clarke into the syllabus and dozens of artists mention him as an important influential figure. Perhaps the band that has paid the most homage is the Arctic Monkeys, their single “Fluorescent Adolescent” was inspired by the poem, “Out of Control Fairground.” The BBC even carried out a documentary that spelled out the influence Clarke has had on film and television.
Cooper Clarke may not be a household name but it resonates across several communities. The punk movement set a new trend of “do it yourself” and Clarke’s poems were seared into the minds of different generations that upheld the same values. Here are two of his most celebrated poems:
Evidently Chicken Town
“The fucking cops are fucking keen
To fucking keep it fucking clean
The fucking chief’s a fucking swine
Who fucking draws a fucking line
At fucking fun and fucking games
The fucking kids he fucking blames
Are nowehere to be fucking found
Anywhere in ChickentownThe fucking scene is fucking sad
The fucking news is fucking bad
The fucking weed is fucking turf
The fucking speed is fucking surf
The fucking folks are fucking daft
Don’t make me fucking laugh
It fucking hurts to look around
Everywhere in ChickentownThe fucking train is fucking late
You fucking wait you fucking wait
You’re fucking lost and fucking found
Stuck in fucking ChickentownThe fucking view is fucking vile
For fucking miles and fucking miles
The fucking babies fucking cry
The fucking flowers fucking die
The fucking food is fucking muck
The fucking drains are fucking fucked
The colour scheme is fucking brown
Everywhere in ChickentownThe fucking pubs are fucking dull
The fucking clubs are fucking full
Of fucking girls and fucking guys
With fucking murder in their eyes
A fucking bloke is fucking stabbed
Waiting for a fucking cab
You fucking stay at fucking home
The fucking neighbors fucking moan
Keep the fucking racket down
This is fucking ChickentownThe fucking train is fucking late
You fucking wait you fucking wait
You’re fucking lost and fucking found
Stuck in fucking ChickentownThe fucking pies are fucking old
The fucking chips are fucking cold
The fucking beer is fucking flat
The fucking flats have fucking rats
The fucking clocks are fucking wrong
The fucking days are fucking long
It fucking gets you fucking down
Evidently Chickentown”.–
“Twat”
“Like a Night Club in the morning, you’re the bitter end
Like a recently disinfected shit-house, you’re clean round the bend
You give me the horrors
Too bad to be true
All of my tomorrow’s
Are lousy coz of you
You put the Shat in Shatter
Put the pain in Spain
Your germs are splattered about
Your face is just a stainYou’re certainly no raver, commonly known as a drag
Do us all a favour, here… wear this polythene bagYou’re like a dose of scabies
I’ve got you under my skin
You make life a fairy tale… Grimm!People mention murder, the moment you arrive
I’d consider killing you if I thought you were alive
You’ve got this slippery quality
It makes me think of phlegm
And a dual personality
I hate both of themYour bad breath, vamps disease, destruction, and decay
Please, please, please, please, take yourself away
Like a death a birthday party
You ruin all the fun
Like a sucked and spat our smartie
you’re no use to anyone
Like the shadow of the guillotine
On a dead consumptive’s face
Speaking as an outsider
What do you think of the human raceYou went to a progressive psychiatrist
He recommended suicide…
Before scratching your bad name off his list
And pointing the way outsideYou hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart
You’re heading for a breakdown
Better pull yourself apartYour dirty name gets passed about when something goes amiss
Your attitudes are platitudes
Just make me wanna pissWhat kind of creature bore you
Was is some kind of bat
They can’t find a good word for you
But I can…TWAT”.
