Consumerism and Its Discontents: The Mis-selling of the Tenth Summer by Steven Hankinson

Consumerism and Its Discontents: The Mis-selling of the Tenth Summer
by Steven Hankinson

For a celebration supposedly tied to the 10th anniversary of the birth of punk, Factory Records took a surprising, if misguided, turn and swaddled the Festival of the Tenth Summer (FAC 151) in the graphic style of a mediocre corporate annual report, with all the lack of charm and personality that entails.

From its beginning, Factory (in the blind-luck form of Peter Saville) had immediately staked out a new territory away from both the accustomed pop music identity of the day and the punk stylings of Jamie Reid & Co, employing a radical repositioned use of classical typography (that had been mouldering away in the hands of staid book designers), along with a refusal to play the usual pop idol cover-photo game. Factory Records would be less a record label than a "brand".

That "brand" might have been more intrusive than some of its bands would have liked, but at least it was one with style. Unfortunately for 151, the scales finally tipped over into a deadly "style over substance" zero-sum return.

Gone was the cool, if not icy, minimalism and lavish attention to details inherent in the usual Factory product, replaced by a bland, repetitive aesthetic that careened over most all of the festival's components and merchandise. Ultimately, it committed the worst of all sins (especially for Factory), it looked cheap.

One could argue that hijacking corporate-associated graphics was just another of Factory's Situationalist stunts: Adopting this graphic style while, with tongue planted firmly in cheek, quietly poking fun at such ludicrousness. But the typographic execution is just too clumsy and crude to justify the assertion.

While the posters (and info sheets, and maps, and flyers, and, and, and...) tout the 1-10 numbering scheme (listing everything from art to fashion to seminars to finally, the "Tenth Event" concert at G-Mex) and use Saville's "metalanguage" number graphics, each is so overloaded with type that they repel instead of attract.

However, in typical Factory carelessness, the number assignment for each event fluctuates from poster to info sheet/etc.

It's lamentable, as Saville had shown on numerous previous Factory projects that he could find elegant solutions for conveying dense information; his sleeve for Section 25's 'Always Now' album is a prime example of this. Only a "merchandise card" (listing available merchandise of course) retains a Factory refinement by stripping away the extraneous and gaining a measure of personality by the sheer oddness of its very existence. A perfectly perverse Factory moment.

As for the "merchandise", a plastic carrier bag (entitled "The Product", and itself badly designed) reinforced the idea that buying ANYTHING was more important than what that thing WAS. Most items were along the line of "this is what Factory have decided they will have" as opposed to "this is what the punters would buy".

Among them was a single t-shirt design (in black or white; singularly stupid XXXL only [and this is pre-baggy Madchester!]) featuring the Saville "10" logo (as did all associated 151 items); a set of postcards featuring Saville's rather dismal sub-Neville Brody typography; a boiler suit (!); and a numbingly dull & ugly "history" book ("How was it for you, darlin?").

As there was little emotional or artistic connection to most of the merchandise, only "The Badge" (in silver and white enamel) featured a real selling point: the actual Factory 151 designation. Either out of stubbornness or ineptitude, Factory effectively negated every other "product" with the implication that only this badge was worth putting down one's money.

Even those other (much) lesser pieces could have gained a spark of interest had they been blessed with the "hallowed" Factory number. It's not as if Factory had been stingy in the past with number application. The entire Haçienda identity revolved around that FAC 51. Factory could never manage the "simple things", if not the blindingly obvious.

Only two pieces from 151 continue to retain interest past erstwhile "Factory collectability" and reflect on perhaps what could have been achieved had their been more than a set of 10 numbers as the "concept" to hang a festival on.

Malcolm Garrett & Assorted Images' poster for their "A Different Kitchen" exhibition is a fine representation of Garrett's aesthetic and acknowledges a sense of Manchester's graphic (and industrial) history.

And history again is a lynchpin for Kevin Cummins' beautiful set of 10 postcards ("Cummins Ten") featuring the Sex Pistols, Buzzcocks, the Electric Circus, and Ian Curtis among others. Both Garrett's poster and Cummins's postcard photographs generate an emotional resonance, casting a backwards glance and acknowledging that Factory did not arise alone from the ether.

At every "selling" juncture for 151, Factory underwhelmed and disappointed. Posters that were anything but a celebration? One t-shirt? Postcards counting 1 to 10? And perhaps the grandest "mistake" of all: FACT 186 was to have been an album & video commemorating and documenting FAC 151 and the Tenth Event. Forget the t-shirts and everything else, wouldn't it have been nice to relive an unadulterated joyous moment in time, to re-experience the one thing that meant something beyond what you could hold in your hand (provided you were willing to pay for it)?

Alas, as with many things Factory, the project was abandoned and left for dead. 151 rests silently now. Some memories, a badge, and some unworthy graphic design.