Attila the Stockbroker Diary: October 23, 2025

The birthday bard celebrates his 69th, which date collides with Aberfan and the birth of punk

Books / 29 October 2026 Cafe culture: a republic formed around tables 29 October 2026 JONATHAN TAYLOR is teased by an examination of the cafe, a space both private and public, capitalist and utopian

CHRIS SEARLE witnesses a cherished trio, still playing strong

DENNIS BROE examines Cupertino, the smartest show on TV this autumn, and questions how its anti-AI plot squares with its AI-funded backers

SUSAN DARLINGTON is compelled by a limb-tangled, queer reimagining of Bizet’s Carmen

JAN WOOLF applauds a fine play that tells the story of Rena Depas, the only survivor of a Jewish family in Crete

From the Spanish conquest of the Americas to a dystopian Venezuela where even the dead are turned into oil, two remarkable books expose the insatiable appetite of empire and capitalism, and the lives that resist being consumed

Dan Carrier speaks to historian of British-south Asian relations, TAJ ALI

THANKS so much to all those who sent lovely messages for my 69th birthday last Wednesday and our 26th wedding anniversary the day before. My birthday on the 21st was the 60th anniversary of the Aberfan disaster, a day which I still remember vividly, and once again I was asked to share My Ninth Birthday, the poem I wrote about my experiences as a child that day. But in the main I was concerned with much happier things.A massive Happy Birthday to my fellow celebrant, lifelong friend, brilliant activist and comrade in poetry Janine Booth — we’ve known each other for 43 years — and a big up to acclaimed visionary musician Julian Cope, whom I’ve never met but certainly appreciate. We were born on the same actual day: October 21st 1957. There is a poem of mine on the internet with that date as the title which celebrates our mutual liking for Krautrock and strange headgear. I’m not sharing it here: it’s too niche even for this column. A birthday the size of my last one is a time for reflection. I am having to confront the fact that my force-of-nature personality and physical body are no longer always in sync these days, but the former makes it very difficult for me to compromise my hectic lifestyle and my wife Robina helps me see sense when needed! I am so lucky to have her love and support.

And thanks to all of you who continue to facilitate and enliven my live performances as organisers and audience, and, of course, read my thoughts here. I am more fired up than ever because there is so much to say, to write about, get angry about, and yes, laugh about and be proud of (Seagulls!) I charge around the country literally spreading the word and thanks to all of you who offer help and hospitality. Everywhere I go there are friendly faces and supportive voices.

I’m 69 – but not retiring in any sense of the word, still brimming with optimism and very, very lucky to still be able to live as I do. I am losing so many old friends and colleagues now. Last night, as I got home rather the worse for wear after my birthday celebrations, I heard from my friend Mark in Yorkshire — via a post from legendary Bradford poet Nick Toczek — that Nick’s friend David Stockell, aka Little Brother, had died. Little Brother was one of our original ’80s ranting poetry crew, but hadn’t performed for years and had been ill for a very long time.

Nick took me to visit him in his care home in Bradford a while ago: it was lovely to see him again and his old spark was still there. Of all us Ranters who started shouting poetry at punk gigs back then, Little Brother was in my opinion the most talented and he was also an absolutely lovely bloke. We did so many gigs together I knew some of his poems by heart, and to my astonishment I still do.

RIP David. You were a gent. And condolences, Nick.

Next Wednesday sees the premiere of Punk Brighton, a film about the early days of the scene in my home town, at our independent Duke of York’s Cinema, and I’m really looking forward to seeing it.

The Brighton punk scene started in 1977 in an old 19th-century burial vault — hence the “Vaultage” compilation albums which legendary local indie label Attrix Records put out in the early ’80s — and there were, quite literally, skeletons in the closet! 

I have a vivid memory of turning up to do the door at one of the gigs and finding a little lead coffin in the middle of the floor. That’ll make a good cashbox, I thought, and it did.

My first punk band, Brighton Riot Squad, did our one and only gig there, and it was memorable because a) we were terrible and b) we were gobbed at a lot (the two factors were unconnected, even good punk bands got gobbed at in 1977). There will be lots of faces from the past there, I’m sure of that. Tonight I’m gigging at the Riverfront in Newport and tomorrow at The Hobo Kiosk in Liverpool after the Seagulls take on the Reds. What a season we’re having so far. Long may it continue! 

Attila the Stockbroker Diary / 9 October 2026 Attila the Stockbroker Diary: October 9, 2026 9 October 2026 The bard finds himself laughing, crying, thinking and dancing all at the same time

Attila the Stockbroker Diary / 11 September 2026 Attila the Stockbroker Diary: September 11, 2026 11 September 2026 The bard serenades the Diggers of Wigan and their festive followers

The Bard hands out medals for his Edinburgh campaign and urges us to support The Men They Couldn’t Hang

Attila the Stockbroker Diary / 14 August 2026 Attila the Stockbroker Diary: August 14, 2026 14 August 2026 The bard confirms that the right has a humour bypass, and replays the English Revolution on period instruments