Eve Libertine's New Album is as Relevant as Ever - a Protest That Never Lost Its Edge
Eve Libertine sits in front of me, her eyes twinkling with mischief, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Her voice takes on a stern tone, but she laughs soon after, revealing the irreverent humor that has defined her life and music.
"The truth is, we never had much fun," she says, her words dripping with sarcasm. "We were angry, trying to say things in a way that would shock people into listening." This sentiment echoes the essence of Crass, the anarcho-punk pioneers that Libertine sang with in the 1970s.
For those unfamiliar, Crass was born out of the Dial House farm commune in Essex, where its core members - Penny Rimbaud on drums and Steve Ignorant on vocals - clashed with the establishment. Eve joined the band later, bringing a scorching vocal cadence that propelled them into more experimental territory. Her time with Crass was marked by confrontational performances, biting lyrics, and unapologetic activism.
One track from this era, "Bata Motel," has been revisited on Libertine's new album, Live at the Horse Hospital. The song's depiction of living as a woman under male gaze was deemed "sexually provocative and obscene" by Manchester police, who charged her with obscenity in 1981.
The case was later dropped, but not before the band faced ridicule in court. A defence lawyer attempted to justify the album's alleged immorality by citing Peter Cook and Dudley Moore's Jesus Wanking Album, which sparked laughter in the courtroom. In hindsight, Libertine recalls it as "all a bit of a joke."
However, for her, Bata Motel remains an anthem that speaks to women's struggles with body image and self-objectification today. The lyrics have become more relevant, rather than less so.
Libertine's music has long been characterized by its provocative nature. Her new album treads the line between performance art, experimental music, and earthy ritual, reflecting her continued commitment to challenging social norms.
But beneath the bravado lies a complex individual grappling with her own fears and vulnerabilities. She questions the limitations of ideologies that can isolate individuals - something she's experienced firsthand in the punk scene. "Our ideologies can hold us back," she says. "I don't call myself anything with an -ist on the end, because it can be co-opted."
So what drives her art? Anger, compassion, rage - and love. This multifaceted mix fuels her creative expression, pushing boundaries that never lost their edge.
As I conclude this conversation, Eve's words linger in my mind: "If anyone else laughs you'll be in the cells!"
Eve Libertine sits in front of me, her eyes twinkling with mischief, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Her voice takes on a stern tone, but she laughs soon after, revealing the irreverent humor that has defined her life and music.
"The truth is, we never had much fun," she says, her words dripping with sarcasm. "We were angry, trying to say things in a way that would shock people into listening." This sentiment echoes the essence of Crass, the anarcho-punk pioneers that Libertine sang with in the 1970s.
For those unfamiliar, Crass was born out of the Dial House farm commune in Essex, where its core members - Penny Rimbaud on drums and Steve Ignorant on vocals - clashed with the establishment. Eve joined the band later, bringing a scorching vocal cadence that propelled them into more experimental territory. Her time with Crass was marked by confrontational performances, biting lyrics, and unapologetic activism.
One track from this era, "Bata Motel," has been revisited on Libertine's new album, Live at the Horse Hospital. The song's depiction of living as a woman under male gaze was deemed "sexually provocative and obscene" by Manchester police, who charged her with obscenity in 1981.
The case was later dropped, but not before the band faced ridicule in court. A defence lawyer attempted to justify the album's alleged immorality by citing Peter Cook and Dudley Moore's Jesus Wanking Album, which sparked laughter in the courtroom. In hindsight, Libertine recalls it as "all a bit of a joke."
However, for her, Bata Motel remains an anthem that speaks to women's struggles with body image and self-objectification today. The lyrics have become more relevant, rather than less so.
Libertine's music has long been characterized by its provocative nature. Her new album treads the line between performance art, experimental music, and earthy ritual, reflecting her continued commitment to challenging social norms.
But beneath the bravado lies a complex individual grappling with her own fears and vulnerabilities. She questions the limitations of ideologies that can isolate individuals - something she's experienced firsthand in the punk scene. "Our ideologies can hold us back," she says. "I don't call myself anything with an -ist on the end, because it can be co-opted."
So what drives her art? Anger, compassion, rage - and love. This multifaceted mix fuels her creative expression, pushing boundaries that never lost their edge.
As I conclude this conversation, Eve's words linger in my mind: "If anyone else laughs you'll be in the cells!"