Hip hop
Ten years ago, the UK was in – what was presumed – a poor state of health. The repercussions of the 2008 financial crisis were in full swing, with the coalition government of the Conservative Party and the Liberal Democrats four years into their austerity programme of cutting public services in a bid to rebalance the books.
Of course, little did we know. Compared to what followed, 2014 could be considered halcyon days. The only referendum in sight was a matter for the Scottish people of independence from the UK. Boris Johnson was Mayor of London, still riding high on the 2012 Olympics-enabled boost to his profile, while Liz Truss was working her way up the Tory’s greasy pole. Rishi Sunak and Keir Starmer had no public profile, the former making his millions in California while the latter was pre-politics and pre-knighthood, having just received the Most Honourable Order of the Bath, whatever the hell that is.
—
—
Yet there was an unmistakable air of a country and people undergoing hardship, only two years after the false dawn of the Olympics. The music industry was still struggling to come to terms with the streaming explosion and – in addition to belts being tightened – the money was rapidly moving elsewhere. Between movements, the album charts were laden with familiar names: Kasabian, Paulo Nutini, Lily Allen, Coldplay, while Ed Sheeran was eating the planet with his second album ‘x’. Meanwhile, on 19 May 2014, Sleaford Mods released a new album: ‘Divide And Exit’.
Officially their seventh studio album (even if the first five are now hard to find), it followed ‘Austerity Dogs’, which – as the name suggests – also had a few things to say about the UK. Yet while that album now bears the hallmarks of the duo finding their voice (so to speak), it was on ‘Divide And Exit’ where everything fell into place.
In truth, Sleaford Mods have barely developed their sound or approach since, nor have they needed to; the world has simply caught up with them. Back in 2014 Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn were unique, with one simply pressing play on a laptop and the other cathartically spitting fire into a microphone. Indeed, apart from a nascent Royal Blood and Soft Play (then known as Slaves), duos in alternative music were few and far between at the time.
While the former bore little resemblance, Soft Play had much in common with Sleaford Mods (raging against society’s ills) but played their instruments live. Ten years on, Sleaford Mods’ influence can be felt everywhere: Bob Vylan and Big Special are both duos, made up of one frontman and one drummer with a backing track of instrumentation, raging against the dying of the light. Meryl Streek and Billy Nomates (a quasi-protégé of Williamson) have taken things one step further, pressing play and then standing alone onstage, with no equipment at all.
Then of course, there are the bands, such as IDLES – who have taken the raw aggression of Sleaford Mods somewhere else – or the pithier sprechgesang of Yard Act. Indeed, there is an argument to be made that what Sleaford Mods do is an entirely separate genre to Punk/Post-Punk (under which they are still classified on streaming sites).
—
—
What’s most remarkable about ‘Divide And Exit’ is how well it stands up in 2024. Yes, some of the references have dated: ‘Middle Men’ directly takes New Labour to task, while on ‘You’re Brave’, Williamson outlines a meeting with music industry types where he observes that ‘Chumbawamba weren’t political, they were just crap.’ It’s still true, but better reference points could surely now be found.
But largely, the album still resonates. The desperation for a lifechanging, mega-rock band is still as relevant as it is on ‘A Little Ditty’ (‘The Wonderwall fell down on you,’), hence the ever-increasing clamour for the Gallagher brothers to kiss and make up. The Royal Family still receive undeserved deference as they do on ‘The Corgi’ (‘The palace gets it right,’) even if Harry’s attempt to contradict the lyric ‘The men ain’t gonna scream no signs of pain,’ has resulted in his expulsion. Indeed, Liveable Shit is now almost prophetic, if you consider Sunak calling the election back in May: ‘Three months of rain. No one likes a fucking Tory reign. The Prime Minister’s face hanging in the cloud like Gary Oldman from Dracula.’
The ‘St George’s Flag twats’ still walk among us, while we are all guilty of ‘Surfing comments, looking at the likes,’ (‘Under The Plastic and N.C.T.) and it’s no surprise that ‘Tweet Tweet Tweet’ remains Sleaford Mods’ set-closer. To be a pedant, one could swap UKIP (‘and your disgrace’) for Reform but otherwise the message remains essential.
In 2014, austerity was just kicking in, but we didn’t know the half of it. In 2024, when there is perhaps a glimmer of hope, it’s a good time to reappraise this seminal album.
It may be a cliché, but ‘Divide And Exit’ was ahead of its time. Long live Sleaford Mods.
—
‘Divide and Exit’ has been spruced up for a 10th anniversary vinyl edition – order it online.
Words: Richard Bowes
—
