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Music

Last Stop on the Line

Swansea Love Story was made a long time ago now, but we often receive little updates from cast members such as Clinty and we recently found out that South Wales Police had arrested every junkie in the city in some kind of misguided effort to...

Left to right: Tony Sylvester: Heritage Research watch cap, Sierra Designs parka, Filson waistcoat, SNS Herning sweater, vintage Levi’s jeans, New Balance boots; Benjamin Phillips: Aubin & Wills watch cap, Henri Lloyd x Oi Polloi parka, Roy jeans, Red Wing boots; Barry Thirlway: Burberry jacket, Albam jeans and cardigan, Red Wing boots; Graham Rofe: Norse Projects cap, LL Bean parka, Lee jeans, Red Wing boots; Andrew Paget: Ralph Lauren watch cap, North Face parka, Ralph Lauren rugby shirt, vintage Levi’s jeans, Red Wing boots

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Swansea Love Story was made a long time ago now, but we often receive little updates from cast members such as Clinty and we recently found out that South Wales Police had arrested every junkie in the city in some kind of misguided effort to “clean the streets of drug dealers”. The film’s main character, Cornelius Collins, was sent to prison in that sweep-up, but just before he went down he met one of our good pals, Benjamin Phillips, who’s the singer in an amazing hardcore band called 33. Benjamin called to tell us about how he’d met Cornelius and while we were chatting we decided to arrange a show for 33 at the Old Blue Last. That show took place last month. We had so much fun at the show (which was free) that we thought we’d say thank you to 33 for playing by printing a two-page article about them in this issue of the magazine. And that, my friend, is what you’re looking at right now. Vice: The last time I was in Swansea, in 2009, we were filming the documentary and everybody would always go on about the rivalry between Cardiff City and Swansea City football fans.
Benjamin Phillips (vocals): Well, my first memory in life is of Cardiff fans—well, Cardiff hooligans—throwing bricks at my mum and me when I was a little baby in a pushchair. We had to hide in a bakery to get away from them and then they started throwing bricks through the windows, smashing them all. People from Cardiff think they’re better than us because they’re the capital city. It’s that small town/bigger town resentment. Cardiff women recently got voted the “tartiest dressers in Britain” by some tin-pot internet survey. How would you describe their dress sense?
Well, tarty. Haha. And how about the women in Swansea?
The women in Swansea dress fantastic. God bless ’em. Although I’d say their style is not that far away from Cardiff. The rivalry between the two cities is mainly football-based, would you say?
It’s not even just football-based. We’ve been lumbered in with the Cardiff City Hardcore thing. I’ve done loads of interviews and they always ask what it’s like to be a part of the Cardiff City Hardcore scene. I say: mate, I’m from Swansea. And when the Cardiff boys find out you’re from Swansea, what do they call you?
“Gyppos” is the main one. There’s also “Jack bastard”. You can’t beat the classics. The Swansea Jacks is the name for Swansea’s “firm”, right?
Yeah.
Tony Sylvester (vocals): I’m from north London and we always had the Arsenal vs Spurs rivalry, but in Wales the tension between Cardiff and Swansea is more palpable. It’s more like the Old Firm games in Glasgow.

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Tony’s lip tattoo is by Chad Koeplinger.

Was there an incident recently when 33 had finished practising and you nearly had a rumble with some hooligans?
Benjamin: Yeah, well, not really. We all walked past a pub of hooligans and they literally all stopped and looked at us because we were all wearing our mountain parkas and good jeans and our Red Wings. So I guess how we look does have a certain element of that “casual” thing to it. For me, it doesn’t really come from football, though.
Tony: Once when we played with Gallows in Cardiff, Ben did a big speech about the whole rivalry and how it was all bullshit and one of the guys from the Soul Crew [Cardiff City hooligan firm] came up to him and shook his hand. Gallows get a mixed crowd, eh?
Yeah, all sorts. They get a lot of those old punks and people who’ve lived very interesting lives, shall we say. You’ll see some very funny people at a Gallows show. But when you see trouble at hardcore gigs it makes me think of the Keystone Kops: it’s very juvenile and amusing. In all my years I’ve never really seen anything that terrible. I define “terrible” as things like those kick-boxing displays for all the mid-2000s breakdown bands. Do you ever get that?
Our music is more for two-stepping or creepy-crawling. Those kickboxing-display kids are a different generation, but what makes me laugh is when those kids do that they never last the whole eight-bar breakdown. They do a little peacock display for ten seconds and then stand at the back. I love it in hardcore when everybody’s piling on and grabbing the mic. I prefer that to some kids doing a funny little dance for a few seconds in the middle of songs.

Benjamin’s hand tattoos are by Thomas Hooper, Chad Koeplinger and Rob Benevides.

You do look like well-dressed football casuals in these photos.
Benjamin: Well, the majority of hardcore kids tend to be five years behind everywhere else. It’s like hardcore kids discovered Supreme a year ago, and I thought that had died like five years ago or whatever. I think Odd Future are helping them sell quite a lot of those little caps. What are your songs about? They sound like they’re about fighting.
33 songs aren’t really about fighting. It’s more about day-to-day life living in a coastal town and all the hatred, disappointment and, I guess, fighting that comes with that. What is it with coastal towns? I grew up in one and two things I experience when I go there are a spooky emptiness and an ominous sense that extreme casual violence is about to break out at any second whenever I go drinking.
I think it’s because when you’re in a coastal town there’s nowhere left to go. They’re always the last stop on the train. I guess I’ve lived in them all my life because the only places I’ve ever lived were Swansea and Brighton. I don’t know if it’s the sea or what. You also find a lot of people who are running away from things. There’s always a lot of cheap B&Bs everywhere; hole-ups for junkies and Care in the Community types. General vagabondary, you could say.
Is vagabondary a word? I’m not sure.
I have loads of friends that just live life thus: they get pissed on the weekend and get into fights and that’s literally what they live for. It’s getting hammered and either you get laid or get into a fight. I’m not condemning it or ridiculing it at all, it’s just how it is.
Tony: We were loading out a gig in Swansea and we were stepping over people fighting each other on the floor, in the street, and then a cab went past and somebody shouted “Wankers!” out of the window at us. We were with a guy there who was a bit of “boy” in Swansea and he said, “I’m not having that!” So he ran after the cab, caught up with it, opened the door, punched the first guy, walked through the cab, punched the second guy and exited the cab on the other side. And all the time the cabbie is laughing at his own passengers getting beaten up in his car, saying, “Haha, you deserved that one, lads!”
Benjamin: It’s weird in Swansea ’cos it’s such a double-edged sword. You can get the shit kicked out of you there and yet there’s a real warmth to the people. It’s also inherently fucked up, like you showed in your film. But parts of it, like Swansea Bay, are incredibly beautiful. It’s my home and I love it, more than anything. I’ve left Swansea before but I’ve never been as happy as I am at the moment. I feel quite content where I am. I love it here. Sounds idyllic.
Well, I work away a lot. I think that helps. I haven’t been home for nearly three weeks!