Blackpool Rocks

A shortish blog this evening, after the rollercoaster of watching Blackpool FC finally scrape enough points to avoid an unthinkable relegation to the bottom division. Non-football-invested  readers won't understand the emotional toll taken by today's events. I'm exhausted. Nevertheless, after a couple of glasses of restorative retsina, I feel duty-bound to write something about my adopted home. 

Firstly, it occurs to me that the phrase Blackpool Rocks cuts both ways for our beloved seaside town and for its football club, the fate of one frequently being a barometer of the state of the other. 

When Blackpool is rocking in a good way (the sun is shining, the sky is blue, the waves and the football are sparkling), it is one of the most exciting of experiences; the town exudes a kind of sugar-rush seaside euphoria. However, when it's rocking in a bad way and almost on its knees (dark days of lack of imagination, inspiration and investment), then it can feel depressing, though only momentarily; for being Blackpool it is defiant and ultimately bounces back. That is why it's on the long list (with the likes of Middlesbrough, Portsmouth and Sheffield) to be in the running for the UK's City of Culture in 2029.

And then there's rock...

Blackpool - Rock City

...which, I have to be honest, is vile stuff. It's day-glo bright, sticky (in more senses than one) and sugary as hell, usually with a peppermint flavour (though now available in synthesised curry, gin or pizza varieties apparently). It's maybe good for the local economy, but it's terrible for health and for teeth. I've never liked it and the only thing that ever intrigued me about it was how makers get the letters to run all the way through - always in capitals, lower case being too fiddly.

If you want to know the secret of the letters, or the origins of rock as a seaside confectionery (it seems to be almost exclusively so... I know only of Edinburgh rock as an exception), or how it is still made largely by hand, here is a link to an instructive YouTube video from Ade Edmonson, part of his 'Ade In Britain' TV series. This episode features his visit to Lancashire and the sequence about Making iconic Blackpool Rock (just click on the title to activate the link) runs from the 12th minute in until the 22nd minute. 

I'd also like to give a shout out to is some of the finest rock bands to have originated in the jewel of the north. Between the 1960s and the 2020s, these worthies have made Blackpool rock, if only in some cases for a few years. It's not an exhaustive list but it may bring back happy memories for some of you:

Beetroot, the Blade, Boston Manor, Bruce & the Spiders, Cherry Blossom Clinic (the UK, not the US version), Circus, Complex, Emily, Jethro Tull, Magic of the Market Place, Marie Celeste, the Membranes, Mohawk, Perfect Riot, Rainbow Cottage, the Rockin' Vicars, Section 25, the Senators, Strange Bones, Treacle, Tunnel Vision, the Wheels, the Wild Ones. (I've omitted Graham Nash and Robert Smith, famous Blackpool born musicians, because their bands - the Hollies and the Cure respectively - did not originate in the town. Feel free to let me know in the comments of any much-loved local rock bands I've overlooked.) 

My latest poem, for what it's worth. Suck it and see.

Black Pool Rock

"Farewell, sweet prince"

she whispers lovingly

as they kill

the lights, then lock

the rock factory door,

lair of sugar boilers,

one last time

and bolt 

its heavy yard gate.

To everyone's credit, 

their final extruded 

black coated roll

read (caps on) 

IN MEMORIAM

from one end and

I AM NO MORE

from the other,

a subtle not-quite

anagrammatical

twist of fate.

Finally, as a musical bonus, have a listen to 1960s group Honeybus (not local) performing their Deram Records single She Sold Blackpool Rock. Just click on the song title to link to the YouTube video.

Thanks for reading, S ;-)