One day you wake up and find that your
minority cult has mushroomed. It may be your politics, or your anti-
politics, it may be a place, it may be some activity, a sport, a music. Do you rejoice at the arrival of the
millennium? No, the chances are you don’t. More likely you feel resentment, perhaps you move on further out, trek into the wilderness and restore your minority cult—
until the crowd follows on.
There is an intrinsic selfishness in most enthusiasms—
you may preach, spread the good word, but always there is a part of you that takes pleasure in the very condition of cliquishness. Thus, where a cult
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suddenly ceases to be a cult and turns into something more like a crusade, there is resentment. It is partly a quite understandable and justifiable pleasure in having things on the human, personal scale. Pleasure in knowing what is going on, who is who—
and also in forming part of a movement or group, in which there is only rudimentary development of organisational barriers—
of barriers between audience and performer, between those whose tastes tend one way and those whose tastes tend the other.
As things get bigger, the barriers go up—there is an audience to be entertained, and entertainers to do the job. And the barriers get institutionalised; you get internal segregation developing, clashes of doctrine, almost amounting at times to holy war. Where once ethnik, folknik, popnik and r ’n’ b exponents could all go to the same club, and be aware of what they have in common, now the differences come to the fore.
As the next stage of the boom comes along, the public at large starts to take note—Bob Dylan is heard on Housewives’ Choice—gets a profile in Melody Maker—The Observer starts trying to pontificate on the subject in its customary switched-on (though not plugged-in) manner. Research chemists in the laboratories of Ready Steady Go synthesize an ersatz Dylan. Folk programmes proliferate on TV ranging from the excruciating Hob Derry What-not (why don’t the Welsh Nationalists do something about it; like blowing up the studio) to the remarkably good Folk in Focus. It becomes possible to buy folk-records (some folk-records) in ordinary local record shops. If you are not running a club, you find that you cannot get in any more, and you could not afford to anyway.