CULTURE – THE LAST PART OF OUR LOOK AT HOW WE GOT HERE…

HAVING LEFT THE LAST ISSUE ON A BIT OF A CLIFF-HANGER, I’D LIKE, THIS TIME, TO ADD A CAVEAT TO MY PROBABLY SOMEWHAT INFLAMMATORY WORDS…

For every one of Harley’s new owners ‘buying in’, there’re probably a hundred out there who’d never concede such a thing for the very reason that it goes against what they believe. Remember that for bikers to be recognised as a subculture, they must display shared beliefs and values, and whatever your opinion is, what can’t be denied was the impact the new Evo’ had on the British biker market place, and its timely link with the new custom magazines and custom shows that where springing up at the time. It was a powerful influence for the British riders to embrace – an American style of biking in Britain and, with it, the leather cut/vest/whatever and all the imagery rolled into one. It’s worth a footnote to explain that until now, as already stated, the British biker had rejected the old British bikes of the past and, except for the odd Triumph T140 or Norton Commando, it was rare to see them on British roads. That was until the resurgence of classic bike magazines had a revolutionary effect on the old British biking scene. Rusty, oily bikes once thrown to the back of the garage or shed, rejected by their owners, were now tagged as ‘classics’, and classic bike magazines were the catalysist for much of this re-interest in British bikes. In the 1970s prices plummeted, but now they took off as enthusiasts sought them out to ‘restore’, and auto jumbles selling parts became, and still are, popular. The older generation, particularly, remembered the days of the Rockers, and were keen to, finally, get their hands on the bike of their dreams. But is this part of the culture of being a biker? I think it’s right to say that it recognises the history of the biker, particularly the 1950s and 1960s, but is it the same thing? For example, is it just a hobby, rather than a belief, and do these ‘restorers’ have shared values? Exclusivity is an interesting point – the cost of some bikes rises significantly, and many argue that biking’s now the preserve of the wealthy, rather than the workingclass hero. It was at this point that, if there is such a thing, along came a counter to the counter-culture – rat bikes and, later, the survivalist ideology. Rat bikes really emerged in the 1980s, primarily after the BSH issue with the Future Bike survivalist 750/4 on the cover. There had, of course, been rat bikes before it, but it started a new genre, the survivalist, and that merged with the existing rat bike ethos to begin an alternative approach to being a biker. If the typical HOG owner was riding an expensive, chrome-plated Harley-Davidson, all wearing the company-provided branded clothing, their bikes adorned with every Harley-sanctioned accessory, then rat bikes and their owners were the opposite – they shunned chrome, and brands, preferring matt black paint, and a dishevelled appearance. It’s difficult to get a definitive description of what a rat bike is, and perhaps that’s the point – it’s the cheapest motorcycle, maintained at minimal expense, with work carried out by their owners, nearly always painted matt black. There’s a complete rejection of expensive, high maintenance bikes, and other biking genres. When it comes to biking culture, would you put the rat bike owner in the same category as, say, a new Harley owner or sports bike rider? Maybe not, although there is always a cross-over – they’ll always socialise, and’ll meet at common events such as rallies and shows, and at cafes, etc., so in that sense they have common norms of behaviour. Looking back at the 1980s, there’d seem to be some division in terms of categories of bike owners from the Easyriders reader to the HOG member to the sports bike riders, and the rat owners. It’s uncommon for a

subculture to have subcultures within it, but is there a common area that defines them all? I’d argue there is, in that they all prefer two wheels as opposed to four – unlike the 1950s when people needed bikes for transport, riding a bike’s now a choice. Small cars’re cheap, and so bikes aren’t quite so needed – they’ve become a leisure thing, rather than a necessity. Riders of all kinds gather together at events to be with like-minded people, even though they don’t all share the exact same values in regards to what’s desirable in a bike, but still share the same norms of behaviour. Thus they could still be argued to be collectively a culture. The term ‘brotherhood’, and a perceived bikers’ code of rules, are terms that’re banded about particularly in the media, but the two’re very different, and need separate discussions. Firstly, the term ‘brotherhood’ – from experience I know this’s a term used widely, especially in bike clubs, particularly 1%-type bike clubs. What does it mean? Some’d like to think that your ‘brother’ in a bike club’ll always support you, and help you, in times of trouble (again, the image of camaraderie similar from the Second World War – men together, a close bond, identified by uniform). Many bikers have long-established friends whom they’ve travelled many thousands of miles with on their bikes, and helped each other out over time, but the term ‘brother’ isn't used at all. I know many in the UK who consider ALL bikers to be brothers, whereas many clubs’d only consider other members of their particular club as true brothers, so the phrase’s open to interpretation by the individuals, and is very much a grey area. The ‘bikers’ code’ is often cited in the media by journalists who have very basic (or no) knowledge of biking culture in Britain. They cite the ‘bikers’ code of silence’, for example, when reporting incidents involving bikers being in trouble with the Police, or if they’d witnessed an incident, particularly if it involves a bike club. I’d have to say that, in the forty-five years I’ve been riding bikes, I’ve yet to see a copy of this code, or even hear it being discussed amongst bikers. Again, it seems to be a tool to sensationalise events involving the biking community in the media. I’d agree that there’s possibly an unwritten code to help a stranded biker by the side the road, even if you don't know him (or her), but it’s not always adhered to (especially these days), and many ride past without offering aid to the stricken rider. The media often claim this code when reporting on 1% clubs, but how would they know what the rules of that particular club are? I certainly wouldn’t presume I knew the workings of a 1% club… As these clubs don’t talk to the media (as history’s proved the media can be unkind and, more often than not, don’t give unbiased reports), they leave themselves open to the media stating pretty much what they want – often to the detriment of the clubs or individuals. It’s therefore difficult to say how, and if, the terms ‘brotherhood’ or ‘bikers’ code’ have been influential in the development of biker culture in Britain. Is it just semantics at the end of the day? If someone’s a brother, or you prefer the word friend, does it really matter? The bond is the same – you’ll have to decide for yourself what you feel comfortable with. Myself, I have good friends I’ve travelled many thousands of miles with, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable calling them ‘brother’ but, on the other hand, there’re others I’ve been in clubs with whom I would use the term for – a grey area indeed. I feel it’d be wrong to say that motorcycle clubs’ve solely defined the image of the biker – there are, I’m sure, many thousands out there who identify as bikers who’ve never been in a club, and many who’ve left clubs yet continue to see themselves as bikers (me included). Clubs’ve been functioning in Britain from around 1930, but there’s surprisingly little information available about them before the 1950s – clearly they weren’t especially newsworthy at the time. That was to come later. As I’ve stated, I’m no expert on all aspects of motorcycle clubs, and I’m not sure anyone can truly say they are as they all work more or less independently, and have their own rules and regulations, values, and norms of behaviour, and as such’ve influenced their members, and their behaviours, in different ways, but there’re common themes which may come to light. There’re hundreds of clubs in Britain – some’ve been running for decades, and new ones start up all the time. A rally, often facilitated by a club, is normally a ticket-only event for bikers to attend. This has, I would argue, been one of the mainstays of maintaining the link between just riding motorcycles for fun, and identifying them as a way of life. Hundreds of rallies are held throughout the year in Britain and beyond, and many riders’ll take pride in attending as many as they can, listening to the ‘right sort of music’, being with likeminded friends, knowing that they're ‘accepted’. Rallies’ve been going on since the 1960s in one form or other, and’ve been the driving force for the sub-culture to continue. Rallies, and big shows, are places where kindred spirits meet, get drunk, and have a great time, and this, in turn, has helped old hands and new younger bikers to mingle, bond, and make plans for further meet-ups, etc., and, crucially, give people a feeling of being part of something. The question remains though – how important are clubs to the culture of biking in Britain? I’d argue that the formation of clubs’s been critical in maintaining the drive which’s been crucial to keeping biking culture in Britain unique and sustained. As I write these words, though, I can almost hear the cries from bikers across the country that they’ve been riding years, and never been in a club, and that’ll be true, but for many, clubs’ve provided key influences which’ve shaped the way we are today. Clubs of all types’ve been involved in the raising of millions of pounds for charities over the years, whether it’s a fund-raising event for a local charity or a toy run to the local hospital, and they have the ability to generate the amount

of people and positive publicity needed to make the events meaningful. They also have the manpower to put on the events the rest of the British biking community visit, and so keep the culture active. In recent years a new biking trend’s arrived, a melange of styles influenced, again, by American tastes, this time mixed with British - rockabilly music and styles, and, interestingly, 1950s Rockers. This ‘hipster’ style of biking, you could say, is a pastiche of bygone eras of music, fashion and vehicles – a subtle blend of bikes, beards and music, started in Shoreditch in London. Interestingly, the bikes chosen by these hipsters’re often 1970s Japanese and German bikes stripped to the barest minimum, with a distressed look to the paint work. One website tried to differentiate the difference between bikers and hipsters: ‘Interpretating motorcycle culture is a nuanced science – for the untrained identifying one subset of motorcycle-riding homo sapiens from another can be a tricky business as there are no hard and fast rules. ‘Both bikers and hipsters covert bygone eras – the subtle distinction that delineates them can be broken down into preference for “the urban vs the rural”. Both groups want nostalgia for the 1880s, but the hipster’s prefer gas lamps and cobblestones while the bikers yearn for the herds of wild bison and the grassland of the open range.’ (Internet Biker or Hipster 19/7/2019). I’m not sure we can identify here in Britain with ‘herds of bison’ and ‘open ranges’, but we get the gist of what was being said – these two ‘types’ of bikers have different values and norms of behaviour, and’re only related because they both chose two wheels. What’s interesting is the fact that, if you talk to the hipsters, they don’t call themselves ‘hipsters’ – they call themselves bikers… Funnily enough, with the hipsterstyle of biking, in some regard we’ve gone full circle – riding in towns (rather than the country), going to coffee bars (rather than pubs), rock ‘n’ roll music (rather than heavy metal), greased-back hair (rather than long), and the fact that they call their bikes café racers, just like the rebels of the 1950s.