This machine kills time
On Thursday night I went to the Sheffield Showroom to see a screening of Alan Miles' documentary, Breaking Rocks. It was the first date in a mini-tour of Britain for the film, which follows the progress of Jail Guitar Doors, an initiative to help rehabilitate prisoners through music.
Founded by Billy Bragg in 2007, the scheme was inspired by Malcolm Dudley, a counsellor who worked at Guys Marsh prison. Using some borrowed guitars, he had started a small but significant music class to help inmates express themselves and build confidence: the first steps towards true rehabilitation.
This was just the beginning, and the film documents how JGD has grown from just six guitars into a programme grew into an international organisation in only a few years. Bragg's contribution is invaluable to it's success, and his personal involvement in the project extends far beyond being the "public face"; ultimately though, it's the prisoners who are the stars.
Two of the inmates featured in the film have served their sentences, and were present at the screening (along with Miles, Bragg and Reverend And The Makers' John McClure). Both – Leon Fender-Walker and Jonny Neesom – are extremely talented individuals and their performances on the big screen and live after the showing provided all the evidence you could need as to the worthiness of the venture.
Time constraints meant we could only have a couple of songs from each of the guests. Walker [My Space], combines raw talent with infectious energy and worked the crowd like a pro. His music follows in the footsteps of the Arctic Monkeys and Jamie T that disguises sharp, often scathing, social commentary behind the neon façades of "everyday" life in Britain. I defy you to listen to Annabella and not be humming the tune within minutes.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, Neeson [My Space] is the self-styled "angry little white boy". If he does have any lyrics sheets at home (he certainly didn't need them on stage), they must be written in venom. Tracks like Fuck Justice and Gray Walls are incredibly powerful: each individual word pins you to your seat like a nail, yet they're delivered so carefully that they flow like poetry. Amazing.
