Friday, January 16th, 2009

“And yeah, I'd love to tell you all my problems, You're not from New York City, you're from Rotherham, So get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook”, sing The Arctic Monkeys. And we know who they mean. All the Ali G’s still finger flicking about, the half-arsed adolescent wannabe terrorists who live at home with Mum and eat turkey drumsticks for tea, as in the docu-drama Monkey Dust, or the aspiring white Yardies of East London.

Now this last group don’t actually come from the impoverished government-built shantytown or ‘yards’ of Kingston, Jamaica, where poverty sucked the souls out of the inhabitants and turned many into violent criminals. No, they’re from the government-built cosy maisonettes of E14, where apathy has sucked the souls out of the inhabitants and turned many into bored, lazy teenagers.

A teacher friend of mine was telling me about this particular sub-group of society the other day. He said it’s funny because they put on their ‘Yardie’ accent to look cool in front of their mates and to fit in, but whenever he’s pulled one of them aside after class for messing about, they’ve immediately dropped their affectations and have said in a polite, East London accent, ‘Yeah, sorry sir.’ Just like in a sketch show. I think the funniest comedy twist on this British cultural insight is with the Little Britain character Anne, who’s a psychiatric patient. She acts mental so she doesn’t have to fit into society. Whenever her mobile rings she stops her fake incoherent screeching and answers it in a polite, slightly posh voice.

Apparently the white Yardies of East London, probably like all these sub-subcultures, practice their feigned mannerisms and accents at home, more than likely in front of the mirror. Now this got me thinking. The Arctic Monkeys sing in ‘Fake Tales of San Francisco’, “So get off the bandwagon and put down the handbook”, and it does seem to me that these kids do all indeed have these handbooks, these guides. Different manuals for each group on how to survive in the urban playground. Well how else would they convincingly pull off their posturing in front of the bullies? And how else would they all know when one of them says in a thick Jamaican East London patois, ‘Mi a go Smithy’s yard’, that it means, ‘I’m off to Smithy’s Mum’s house’? It must be all there for them in their ‘Yardie’, ‘Jamaican hip hop’ or ‘Mental Patient’ handbook.

Then I wondered why I hadn’t had one of these handbooks to help me through my growing years. I mean the only handbook I’ve ever owned is a Brownie Guide one. Hmmm. Perhaps that does answer a lot.