EXCERPT FROM INTRODUCTION

The Jam remain one of the most influential bands to have emerged from Britain during the late 20^th century. For those who were there, the band left a permanent mark on their lives; they still awe at All Mod Cons and Setting Sons, remember the gigs, watch the documentaries, buy the reissues and wear the t-shirts. For others, the band was also their entry into the world of modernism and a lifestyle of scooters, Fred Perry gear and Northern Soul.

Their music is also relevant to those who weren’t there. Every weekend, nightclub dancefloors still move to the sound of ‘Town Called Malice’ and ‘Start!’ Aspiring teenage mods stream the latest reissues, work out the chords on their first guitar, or scour charity shops for the original 45s.

We’ve all got our own version of The Jam and what they mean to us, something that grows and changes as we do. For me, they’re part of my life’s DNA. From first hearing their music as a seven-year-old, through reading A Beat Concerto over and over again as a teenager to wanting to write this book, they’ve been a large part of my grounding in music, style, literature, poetry and politics.

But what keeps this body of music, which is now 40-45 years old, so fresh and relevant? Being big currency, nostalgia plays its part and the last few years have seen a stream of books, documentaries, social media pages and exhibitions, all of which celebrate the band’s close relationship with an audience whose youth they soundtracked.