Last week #freedomfriday was delayed due to the Hard fork, but the week before was about the right to bear arms, which was quite a tough one for those that didn't grow up in a gun culture. It was so fascinating to read about those who did, however, and it's to @eaglespirit's and @freedomtribe's credit that they are making this a thing - every Friday, we'll be writing about an aspect of freedom, and everyone is welcome to join in the fun. There's SBI on offer too for an extra tempter, but freedom is such a worthy topic to talk about that that's by the by for me.

This week's topic is MUSIC FREEDOM. You can write a protest song, create some lyrics, or share your favourite freedom song. This is right up my alley because I love my tunes, and I've been thinking all week about what I'd write about.

One of the stories that's very much part of my J.'s history is UK's Criminal Justice Act of 1994 - Section 63 of this bill gave police the power to shut down any events 'characterised by the emission of successive repetitive beats'. Of course, this clause was aimed at the nation's youth and the illegal rave scene - something that was part of my man's life all through the 90's and is the source of many tales that probably don't need repeating here.

J. marched with 50,000 people marching from Hyde Park to Trafalgar Square, joining the protest against the Criminal Justice Act. The Act would not only stop people gathering for the free parties but give police the ability to stop and search and criminalise 'distruptive trespass' and thus have consequences for squatters, travellers and protesters. It would attempt to put an end to the beautiful rave parties driven by sound systems and gathering tribes dancing to music in unforgottable and often week long events, organised by word of mouth in pre-internet days. Some sound systems were hit hard by this bill, such as Spiral Tribe who had many of its members hit with public order offences.

J describes the gathering at Trafalgar Square as if it was yesterday - the electricity, the tension, the excitement - he talks about police horses charging through the crowd, tear gas and beatings. It wasn't the police that were criticised though - it was the activists, partiers and anarchists that were already feared by Middle England, who had backed the Act in the first place. Back in those days no one could understand these new tribal gatherings that spoke of chaos and loss of control, but were anything but for the youth who danced all night to such joyous repetitive beats. And of course everyone feared alternative lifestyles and the drug scene, and the business opportunities that was presented by this scene couldn't be ignored - why should they be having these dance parties out in fields and in warehouses when they could be brought into paying clubs?

Those I've spoken through that lived through the party scene of the early 90's in the UK speak of it as a golden age, to which Britain never returned. Whilst they never entirely stopped, many of the big sound systems moved to Europe and eventually the big alternative dance festivals were legitimised by business and opportunists and gave way to the festivals we all know today.

Despite thinking they'd be dancing forever in the early 90's, for some, these halycon days were destroyed by the Criminal Justice Act, but never forgotten.

Thinking about freedom of music, I think about how music brings people together in a way that can be frightening for existing power systems and authorities. Raves represent a challenge to the status quo - working class and upper class, Protestant and Catholic, black and white mingled together and danced in foot stomping sweat twirling ecstatic joy. And we can't be having that, can we? Because music can be revolution, mobilising people toward a common cause.

Freedom songs or protest songs have always been part of humanity's greatest moments, from protest songs for civil rights to equality and voicing anger against laws, atrocities, oppression. In South Africa under apartheid, there were many songs that voiced protest against the white government - all were banned. Not that doing that did much good in the end:

"You can blow out a candle
But you can't blow out a fire
Once the flames begin to catch
The wind will blow it higher"
Peter Gabriel: Biko

People will gather and sing and dance despite any censorship or bans - music is a powerful force for unity and tribal strength. If you've ever been on a dance floor and felt the tug at your heart, the base drop, the crescendo build up of a song and the joy on people's faces when it does will know what I mean. This is all the stronger when the music becomes overtly political - by giving voice to the community through lyrics and music, you draw people together against all the things that threaten to tear them apart.

Music calls us to 'get up, stand up' and not 'forget our rights', the words we're familiar with:

We sick an' tired of-a your ism-skism game -
Dyin' 'n' goin' to heaven in-a Jesus' name, lord.
We know when we understand:
Almighty god is a living man.
You can fool some people sometimes,
But you can't fool all the people all the time.
So now we see the light (what you gonna do?),
We gonna stand up for our rights! (yeah, yeah, yeah!)

And sometimes, music just wants us to be in touch with these freedoms, to dance with wild abandon and to free yourself from the worries of the world. One of the most beautiful moments I had on Discord was last week with @trucklife-family and I listening to Xavier Rudd on Discord, wildly singing our hearts out on opposite ends of the world, caught for a moment of joy in absolute freedom and abandon of all the things that were weighing us down:

Time and time and time we see these
Acts against humanity, well
Each for each and each will be then
Shed blood for what they each believe, well
On and on and on we go well
Some will you see and, some won't be
True for you and truth will lead you
To a sense of, well now, peace>

Cheers I up, it does.

With much love and repetitive beats xx

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