Hit the North

Burnham - from the perspective of a late middle-aged Northerner in The South.

I propose The Fall’s 1987 Masterpiece ‘Hit The North as the new national anthem - (actually, I prefer the Frank Sidebottom version). You can see my house from here.

I was born in Chester, spent my first 10 years there and then a few years down the road, just over the Welsh border - but mostly in and around Liverpool and Manchester.

Back then, the North West was a mess - famously doomed to ‘managed decline’ by Thatcher and Heseltine (who, for some reason, is still alive). These once proud cities that powered our industrial might and global trade routes were declining, decaying and derided. Apparently, the future was elsewhere. Banking, early digital, ‘professional’ careers and education were all ‘South’ looking towards Europe and the US. The north was unemployment, drugs, limited lifespans, poor health, dirt, low standards of living and poor food quality. It was mocked. It didn’t matter. Regional accents were a thing to be ashamed of. I myself was acutely aware of just how unsophisticated and ignorant I was on the rare occasions I was able to take a train to London on a school trip.

I was very unhappy at home; I was pretty desperate to get away. I wanted something better, different, opportunity, a future. There were no credible creative industries in Manchester or Liverpool at that time - what there were was already being left behind by the shift towards computers and ultimately digitisation. I was offered a place at Liverpool School of Art to do my degree but chose Camberwell - mostly because it was as far away from home as possible. (The course at Liverpool was fantastic and I really wanted to go, but it was too close to home - my father had recently died and my mother would have forced me to live at home and done everything in her power to scupper my chances of an education and escape). Because Camberwell was pretty relaxed, in a working-class area of London and had a fairly mixed intake - the culture shock wasn’t so great (I was also pretty naive - I didn’t ‘get’ class at first). It wasn’t until much later, when I was trying to work and at Royal College, that I realised just how different people in the South were.

It’s fine; it really doesn’t bother me - after 30-plus years in the industry, I ‘get’ why metropolitan centres with good transport links are destinations for people and industry. I also understand how unattractive the North ‘might’ have been 30/40/50 years ago. But that was then - yet the prejudices still fester.

Culturally - the North was just as good as growing up in the south - in some ways, better - because everyone had to try harder, be more resourceful - it took extra effort to find things, to move about, to meet people and connect. That resilience has stayed with me my whole life. Certainly, now - there is nothing in the South that you can’t find in the north - and it’s literally up the fucking road. When I lived in Brighton I would finish work at 5, get a lift to Gatwick, a 35 minute domestic flight to Manchester (£16 each way, cheaper than the train) and be in the pub with friends by 7 pm - every Friday.

We’re not in Kansas anymore. The thing is - seeing the cows in real life was exciting up to a point - because I know cows, and that’s not what they look like)

When I was a teenager - the ‘South’ began at the exact moment you saw the concrete cows in Milton Keynes from the left-hand side window of the train - 4.5 hours into a 5 hour train journey, that had been sluggish all the way until that exact moment when it suddenly seemed to speed up - a brief pause at Watford to water the horses and it was straight on into Euston. The countryside changed, the houses changed, the gardens looked nicer, the suburbs expanded out, and soon there were multi-story buildings and even the thrill of Wembley Stadium. Once you hit Euston and were knocked sideways by the claustrophobic, noisy, nicotine-filled bottleneck of the concourse, you stepped out into an entirely new world of fancy buildings, traffic, noisy people and the Post Office Tower. I lived in London for about 10 years, and loved it - then a few years in Brighton, which I didn’t love so much, but I never once thought of myself as a southerner - although I never once had a problem or any sensitivity about being a northerner. I learned early on to distance myself from any environment where that might be an issue. After a few years back in Liverpool, I now live down South again - in Hastings. I always preferred living by the sea; I like Hastings - it’s like Brighton was 25 years ago, before it became a suburb of London. I still have a lot of friends and family in the North; I even have work there - suppliers, contacts and workmates. I’ve never had a problem with seeing the North and South as two separate places, but unfortunately, most people do.

I never felt out of place in the South - because it was always so mixed - people from everywhere (although I never really mixed with the nice, white middle class types anyway).

Andy Burnham

I like Andy Burnham - I always have. For lots of reasons, but the most important one for me is how he handled the Blair Government’s absolute car crash approach to the Hillsborough tragedy, learned from his mistakes, admitted he was wrong and fixed the problem. That humility and integrity are what we lack in politics. His commitment to Manchester and the North of England throughout the last 10 years has just reinforced my personal belief that he’s what we need as a PM for the entire country. I don’t particularly like the way it’s all come about - and the process over the last few weeks will be held against him forever by the press - but he just has to move on. I applaud his investment in a ‘Number 10 of the North’. I think this entire fucking country needs to get over itself or we’ll end up in the same political, social, cultural skip-fire as America.

The Northern Deride

I’m already seeing a lot of shitty condescension in the papers - quite a bit of it is about money and clothes, both Burnham and his wife have been mocked and criticised for wearing ‘good’ clothes - as if Northerners are still supposed to wear sacks and cloth hats. That will obviously continue - because the right-wing press have no imagination, and ultimately - that will be their downfall. Nobody is perfect - but I’m more than happy for Burnham to lead this country, for one thing - his tenure will almost certainly cover the fall of Trump, one way or another - and whatever happens after him, we need to be in a good place, and not at the back of the queue.

Blah, Blah, Blah.