Reynolds’s overarching polemic is this: that punk was not year zero at all, but, rather, the last gasp of a conventional, staid, macho, rock’n’roll – all crude Chuck Berry riffs and no innovation. Post-punk was where punk actually delivered on its promises. It was a time when the good ideas of 1976 (DIY attitudes, independent record labels, questioning everything) were disseminated outside the capital. The tired hegemony of guitar-bass-drums-vocals was questioned by bands building their own synthesisers. Dancing and black music were not shunned.
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