Loads of respect to Bristol IWW and Permanent Culture for these films and their ongoing solid organising and radical media work respectively. Check them out:

Bristol IWW
Permanent Culture Now/

Huw Norfolk, aka Badger, our bass player, comrade, friend and one of the best, most dedicated revolutionaries we know is being sought by police after a window smashing action against offices of the Evening Post newspaper in Bristol. Police raided a local squat on the basis of reported DNA evidence. The cops didn’t find the man they were looking for, but made a political investigation, and seized computers, phones, papers. The newspaper, which naturally had their journalists present at the raid, tried to play a key part in the local repressive operations of the police, exactly like every other newspaper in the country. They all justified the police murder of Mark Duggan and excused the daily brutality and disgusting behaviour of the police, printing suspects photographs and spreading hatred and vengeance etc. The Evening Post is a very typical daily newspaper owned by Northcliffe Media, a large regional newspaper publisher in the UK and Central and Eastern Europe, owned by the Daily Mail and General Trust.

The Spannercrew say “Rock on! Stay free and keep fighting mate.” Or as they would say in another rebellion “Move quickly, comrade. The old world is right behind you!” Love and respect always.

1st communication,
October 2011

An open letter to whoever wants to be concerned,
Two months have passed since the police execution of Mark Duggan tipped the
already-fragile balance of power in the UK, unlocking an orgy of defiance across
this island. A well of frustrations finally boiled over and the system was left
reeling by a determined insurrection from a wide range of people. Following these
days and nights of brazen attacks in Bristol (as in other places) a house is raided
in a police and media orchestrated scene as part of their revenge operation for the
blows they have both received in the uprising – they leave without the hostage they
sought there, but I am made aware by their blunder that I am on their wanted list.
Two months have now passed of successful evasion, and meanwhile the winds of
insurgency still blow in many towns and moments – indeed, for many they started long
before this summer. There have also been at least two more deaths at the hands of
the Law in August alone…

My decision is not to comply with my judicial persecution, and I greet D.C.I Will
White and their kind reading this by the names they are known here and everywhere in
different words and tongues: COPS – PIGS – MURDERERS.

I am one of those who simply cannot and will not stomach the social, economic,
moral, psychological, physical conditions not of our making that we are born into at
this point of history. I have never sought to decorate the walls of my cell with
exam certificates, job promotions, sports prizes, status-symbols borrowed from the
wealthy by our labour. I curse those who sell themselves so cheaply to buy such
unimaginative dreams at the expense of a possibility of a freedom truly of their own
making. Since an early age this unwillingness and refusal has put me in conflict,
like countless others, with that reality. And our understanding is growing along
with our fury.

We are the “lost kids” angry and disappointed by false promises, the “uncontrollable
youth” unsatisfied with the paltry futures offered to us, the “useless components”
who reject or are excluded anyway from wage-slavery or the “disruptive elements” who
fight to destroy it from within, the “minority of trouble-makers” within the
constructs of obedient-hierarchical-racist-patriarchal normality, the “hooded
rioters” within the constant revolt against all that and more. We are your children,
and those of your society. And it is time today for the components of that society
to decide if they will be the hand trying to stop us, or the hand lighting their own
conspiracy for self-determination.

Today we are here. Today we throw our rage and anarchy against the station that this
order would prescribe us: an open-ended contract to be locked in the cage of modern
living, of humiliating routine, withdrawn into quiet desperation despite all
distractions, cast into inexplicable loneliness, into inner exile from any greater
values, divorced from any connection to the Earth, walking commodities to be used
and discarded.

Each day, be sure that we are faced with constant battle as each individual must
strive to make their own path and decisions against the flow of the conformity and
submission demanded of us by the jailers of everyday life – if the revolution is not
here, truly it is nowhere. Let us live proud lives of rebellion and compassion,
reclamation and antagonism, poetry and fire.

So, in the midst of this incessant war underlying all in this world – I acknowledge
with a glad and thankful heart all who have ever stood next to me, with the rebels
wherever and whoever they are against the disguised violence that is passivity, the
disguised violence in the suppression of the hostilities and tensions around us that
urge to be realised. Here’s to those who make choices that in different ways break
out of line when everything in the dominant culture advises silence, assuring us of
their strength and feeding us poisoned whispers of our own powerlessness and
insignificance.

And of course as the clash continues and escalates with increasing recognition that
everything we desire lies beyond the ruin of their rule, the enemy will carry on
retaliating against those people with every vile method in their book: propaganda to
misrepresent our passions and aims; the loyal “opposition” of political parties and
unions presented as the democratically acceptable way we should amend our “extreme”
expressions to; the surveillance, infiltration and invasion of our friendship groups
and spaces; the arrest, interrogation and imprisonment of our comrades-in-struggle.
We don’t forget, and we don’t forgive.

Enough silence.
Action replaces tears.
for solidarity and self-organisation,

just another fugitive.

Well, that was exciting! 10 days around France, Belgium and Holland with good friends and family joining us, meeting awesome people and seeing some truly inspiring squats, autonomous spaces and projects.

Paris: The first night kicked off well with Random Hand from U.K. Top band and we hope to see more of ‘em! This was Raffy’s first time seeing Spanner (he’s 3 years old) and he went mental! He showed the locals a fair few moves with his face totally alive! We’ll be watching this one with interest…

AOS3, touring with us for the first half, did the business despite Jon leaving his guitar at home! Good to see it’s not just us who do that sort of thing! We met some top people and stayed in a lush collective house in Paris.

After chasing rubbish trucks around the streets with Raffy in the morning we followed the  local knowledge and sniffed out some proper amazing falafel, as is our tendency!

Le Quesnoy: Absolutely bonkers night in a  small pub that was packed with punks, skins and what looked like their mums and dads! A really mixed crowd that was bouncing hard! Les Fumieurs, our hosts for the night are a local ska band and they got it going in style! We love these small venues because the energy ricochets all over the place! Ben got a bit of an unwanted souvenir from a local young punk who was all elbows in the dance: a cartoon style bump and a black eye for the rest of the tour. When the guy was gently reminded that it was a dance, not a fight he looked pretty shocked as he realised what he’d done. Oblivion, eh? We’d found some tasty looking fungus in the woods nearby earlier and put the “to eat or not to eat” question to the crowd. No one really knew, so we decided better safe than sorry, so put it to good use, finishing the night off with a full pelt, textbook fungus ambush on our friends and comrades from the CCL (Libertarian Cultural Centre of Lille) as they left for home. They didn’t stand a chance.

Gent: We arrived early to catch some of the Gent anarchist bookfair, which was impressively organised. We met old friends the Usual Suspects and shared some amazing food courtesy of the local anarchist action kitchen collective. The circus toys kept us occupied for some serious playtime before the gig (the incriminating evidence is under secure guard!), which was a whopper!

Donderhond from Belgium opened up with their fired up, slightly maniacal folk punk and that got everyone right in the mood. At which point all power was lost to the stage. Aaargh! The POWER! After what seemed like an hour it got sorted and we had a corker, including the first outing of our bonus back to the nineties track, which proved to be a bit of a crowd pleaser… Badger sustained some bass thrash injuries but loved it!

AOS3 smacked it hard after us, with their new found VJ, Kaden, at the controls! He was thoroughly enjoying himself. We would have liked to have stayed for the Balkan hotsteppers, but needed to get Raffy to bed, so opted for an earlyish one. The last night’s sleep with loved ones before they headed home to Bristol was not the best, as the sound of rats scurrying around filled our ears! Nice place though! A land squat with lots of organic gardening on the go and some well friendly people.

Liege: This was a bit of a wild card, as we hadn’t had any real contact with the organisers. Turned out good though and was pretty busy for a Sunday night. The Goulag squat has been in existence for a bit over a year. They’re producing biodiesel from used veg oil. They also have some very cute dogs who didn’t really live up to the euro squatter attack dogs image and cook an impressive vegan dinner!

This was AOS3′s last gig of the tour and they belted it out from the cage! Yes, the gig was effectively in a cage. I’m sure you could find a metaphor in there somewhere! They also broke TWO of Ben’s guitar strings! “Oh my god, AOS3 broke my guitar strings. I will never wash them again!” Incredibly, Ben didn’t break a single string all tour! Our mates Cop on Fire from Belgium did what they do best:

…dark and dangerous throbbing dub punk. We like that band a lot! We finished the night off with some zany dancing and an emotional farewell to the AOS3 crew as they left for the ferry back home.Leiden: A windmill too far! “How many times have we passed that fucking windmill?!” It took us a while to arrive, but when we did we liked what we saw! A really small, front room sized gig space which we knew would be good! After a truly painful tuning up fiasco lasting best part of an hour (don’t ask how or why and thanks to Rik and Marcel for their patience!). Food was awesome again and we met a new friend (and top chef!), Flo, who came with us for a few gigs after. Ben only got eat half his dinner before it was time to play, which made for a fast set. We were all impressed with the ripping sound of Active beat, from U.K. but we are still none the wiser as to how the fuck they fit 3 drum kits and at least 5 amps in their van which was no bigger than ours. WTF?! The distro and Kebele infoshop that we took on tour with us was a big hit this night, as were Jason and Richie’s dancefloor manouevres. The next day was another scorcher so we headed for the beach for a customary Brits abroad streak and got well fleeced for our chips. Should have dined and dashed really…

Amsterdam: The ADM – now that’s what we call a DIY squat. A huge site, home to around 120 people in all sorts of trucks, trailers, wagons, self built homes, yurts and boats. Some serious creativity and DIY principles in action here, with workshops of all kinds and wicked art and sculptures all over the place! It’s been going 12 years and has a lot to show for it, including a bulldozer scarred gig hall serving as a reminder of the landlord’s last attempt at a DIY eviction. We had a cabin in the woods to stay in and this was a good choice of a place to have our day off! We headed into town in the evening and had a long hike across town, in an almost pilgrimage style, to the  meet an old friend in the “Molli” bar, an infamous haunt of anarchists, squatters and trouble makers. When we got there they were closing up, but we used all our powers of persuasion to get one in there. Good people! At the next bar the night got interesting. Firstly there was the Brit tourist who did a whitey after 10 days in the Dam! After making sure he was okay and waiting for the ambulance, we settled down for a drink. Then it kicked off as a guy got put on his arse for stealing phones and wallets in the bar. Risky, our driver and so much more besides, a punk rock pensioner who’s been around a bit, wasn’t having any of it. As a huge Italian antifa skin was about to put the boot in to this guy on the floor, Risky launched himself at him to restrain him. This had the effect of a) stopping the guy getting a serious kicking, b) giving him time to do a  runner – with a phone and c) getting the assembled antifa skins and friends pretty darned cross – with us! So, it started to look like we might be substitute punch bags for their wrath! Risky was adamant that he wasn’t gonna see someone get their head stomped for the sake of a mobile phone and asked the guys to think about the implications for them and their bar if they’d seriously injured the thief (or worse). He’s got a point, really. Anyway, we managed to defuse the situation and made a tactical decision to head for another boozer! I knew that de-escalation stuff would come in handy somewhere!

Next day we went for a little tour of some of the anarcho spaces, from the impressive Fort bookshop (envy!) to the top quality Cafe Bollox where we had toasties, and plenty of em! We had a laugh with the ticket inspectors on the train at the fact that all that separates first class and the riff raff is a piece of glass and different colour seats. They couldn’t be bothered to check our tickets and it was definitely one of those quality moments! The cops in the station however, were more traditional in their wielding of authority. “Put a shirt on!” they barked to our handsomely tatooed Badger. because everyone feels safer when punks keep their shirts on, right? We smiled and nodded. He didn’t put his shirt on. These kids don’t just talk about it, they’re living it! Long live anarchy!

In the evening we were treated to a full on skipped vegan feast that was truly incredible. Ben dosed up on sage tea  from a nearby garden, as his throat was ragged by this stage in the proceedings. The gig was wicked and we met some well good people that night at the ADM bar.

In the morning we cooked nettle soup which went down well, did some washing (they had washing machines! Now that would be a confusing revelation for the right wing journo muppets!) and struggled to tear ourselves away from the place. We’ll be back!

Den Haag: AAAHAAARGGHH!!! To the pirate baaaarrggh!!! What a place! Who says punks can’t sort their shit out! They’ve built it all here! Yes, there will be ruins, but this lot know a bit about DIY for rebuilding our lives after the fall of capitalism… industrial spec kitchen, cafe and bars, gig space, living space, shower rooms… the list of all they’ve built just goes on and on. And all the authorities have done recently is erect a gurt fence out the front, blocking access to the beach and the view over the harbour. Not very impressive, and probably soon to be recycled into something much more useful – allegedly. The gig itself was a blast, kicked right off with young local punks, Gas. They rocked HARD! We were fuelled right up with vegan lasagne, got a bit of a dancefloor frenzy going…

…and joined the kids after for a right old skank up to some old school ska and rocksteady. At some point Jason and Ben managed to sidle up and gain control of the decks, with mixed results!

An all night dance and fierce pool session ensued as the locals tried their luck with the Spanner champions, who remained undefeated, despite nefarious attempts at changing the rules mid game on several ocassions! Breakfast was stonking, although by this time Risky was looking decidedly none too impressed at the vegan “delights” before us! Breakfast was especially good today as it was accompanied by news of riots back home in Bristol. There was much euphoria and fists pumping the air around a computer terminal at the pirate bar that morning! I think that’s when we started getting homesick.

Nijmegen: Back at the Onderbroek, an amazing anarchist centre of 25 years history and standing solid. Again, this lot ain’t workshy when it comes to the proper work of organising their autonomous space. From a sizable and much used cafe space and kitchen to the underground gig space and bar, they do the business! They’ve even got a wholefood co-op FFS! Dinner was again phenomenal and included vegan cheesecake! Oh my gosh!!! However, we have to say we were disappointed in the  no show of the Nijmegen dance posse. We were all ready to continue where we left off last year, with Jason as our secret weapon, but the dance off didn’t materialise. Where were they?! So anyway, we’re pretty sure no shows get chalked up as a victory. Ben forgot his trainers there, which had been giving him trenchfoot like symptoms so no great loss, so we see that as a fitting symbol, a booby prize … or perhaps even a gauntlet for next time! Half the crew saw the opportunity for an early night, to actually get some sleep in preparation for the big one the next night, but some just refused to lie down. Jason and Richie were our delegates to the dance that night and by all accounts we were well represented, with Jason, doing the business as guest (gatecrasher) DJ!

Leuven: Right, this was always gonna be mental! What do you get when you cross Eastfield, Cop on Fire, Usual Suspects, Spanner and some lunatic DJs at the Plan Z squat, hosted by the Freedom in Fire collective? A helluva finale for the tour, that’s what! Lots of young punks, faces  alive, crowd surfing a go go and a right old moshpit! The Plan Z crew fly the punk and anarchy flag loud and proud so we thought we’d treat ‘em to a special bonus track, a fitting complement to Usual Suspects’ “I like to riot”, which made them go a  bit loopy! Embarrassingly, we missed Eastfield due variously to a power nap and losing track of time watching footie in a nearby bar. Shameful. Cop on Fire were on fire and Usual Suspects were, as is usual and to be suspected, brilliant.

Fair to say we had a riot of a time and how the crowd roared when we spoke of the events in Bristol that week. Suspect 001 did what he does best, churning out the 90s cheese and sending the crowed into euphoric uproar. Eastfield had a fair crack at the dance off, but were quickly outclassed, if not outlasted! Jury’s out we reckon! To be continued… That was one hard party to leave, but we had to get a bit of kip before a long journey home the next day. But as far as going out with a biggun goes, we couldn’t do any better than that!

So, 3 hours sleep and a top breakfast with good friends later and we’re on the road heading for the ferry. As is our custom, we miss it, despite some hard, renegade driving from Risky. I’d have him as a getaway driver anyday! “Behave!” On the next one, using up our euros in the bar and getting some weapons training in the arcade. then it’s back to our little island and the long drive home. We put the kit to bed, clear out the van and say cheers to Risky (Wot a fackin geeza!) who heads back to London, probably for a bit more of the same before too long! We don’t believe in heroes, but Risky comes close and we can only hope we’ll still be doing it when we’re his age!

Then  it’s off to Kebele social centre down the road for some dinner and hearing the tales of last week. As we hear some of the stories the buzz from tour is accompanied by a different buzz – happy to be home and proud to live in Bristol where rebellion seems to have found a good home!  This tour was the longest we’d done yet, and felt pretty epic. It was also a good reminder that there are people like us everywhere taking over spaces for people, not profit, fighting back against the attacks of capital and state and living lives to the full, in resistance and creating everyday revolutions everywhere.

Massive respect to all the crews and promoters that put us on, to all the people that cooked for us and made us feel well at home, to AOS3, Cop on Fire, Usual Suspects and all the other bands we played with, to Ginny, Erika, Fin and Kaden for sharing the travels, the work and the play, to Badger for smashing it first time on tour with us playing bass, to Risky (the guvnor!) for being so relentless, so solid and just a proper good geezer. Love and respect always, the Spanner Crew.

These boots were made for skanking!