Bunch of Kunst

Dir: Christine Franz

2017

****

I’ve seen Sleaford Mods a few times now, the first time being about two years before Christine Franz filmed the band on tour (2015) for this documentary. It surprises me just how humble and surprised the two men are at their success, I guess it takes a while to get used to, but this humble surprise is what makes Bunch of Kunst so enjoyable. Sleaford Mods is two men – Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn. Williamson’s lyrics and the way he delivers them are an experience to behold. Passionate performance aside, his words cut deep in what it is to be English in this day and age. His words are raw, rude and not without humour but more often than not they are a collective rant against all that is wrong with our government, our media and our society. Frankly they tell it like it is - warts and all. Fearn provides the simplistic but catchy dance tracks that he plays from his laptop. It’s rather refreshing to watch him not 'perform' on stage. Many a electronic/dance group these days mime on stage, which is stupid really, so he just pushes the play button, has a bit of a dance with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a vape pipe. I’m in an occasional electronica band and I used to mime all the time and I really wish I’d hadn’t now. They’re a group with no delusion, they’re modest but have no false persona. Throughout the documentary I tried looking for a hint of pretense or something that would question their authenticity but it just isn’t there. Their performance is them, they’re not pulling the wool over anyone’s eyes. They’re a couple of guys in their fifties - Jason has been singing for years and Fearn Djing for quite a while - why would either of them bother with any bullshit. This is what is so refreshing about them. It’s also nice to see a combination of styles come together. I like rock and I like hip-hop but to combine the two rarely ever works. Sleaford Mods have described their work as "electronic munt minimalist punk-hop rants for the working class” which is pretty spot-on. What kind of music do you make when you are attracted to the mod subculture but love listening to Wu-Tang Clan? – the answer is Sleaford Mods. Christine Franz captures the buzz the band has generated through their eyes and the documentary is as raw as their performances and lyrics. It was nice to see a bit of Jason’s private life – we meet his wife and daughter – and Fearn opens up in a refreshingly un-rock star sort of way. One of the most interesting aspects of the film is how the two men cope with the come-down after an exciting tour. Jason’s wife explains that her husband is low for a couple of days but bounces back soon after. She describes it beautifully as ‘cunt flu’. The realism of the film really hits home when, after the tour, the band sign with Rough Trade records, leaving their small independent label behind. Throughout the film, their manager Steve Underwood is constantly at their side. Underwood is a friend and the third member of Sleafords. Proud of the band and proud of his little label, Underwood also feels the pressure of success and when they sign to a bigger label he is clearly upset. Life is life though and the move is best for everyone and everything is amicable. Anyone who may shout ‘sell out’ is shouted down louder by the way in which the three men explain the transition. It’s a very private and personal moment and a rare thing to see in a music documentary. The film’s title – Bunch of Kunst – obviously sounds grubby and is a satirical dig at themselves, not just because of the rude sounding word, but because they clearly don’t see themselves as artists (Kunst is German for art). Sleaford Mods prove that you don’t need labels and to ‘make sense’, they are what they are and people react to it. It’s weird to see a Mod and a DJ play John Cooper Clark – in the style of Oi punk – with a backing dance track, your brain tells you it shouldn’t work, but it does. I would have liked to have seen more said about Jason’s collaborations, as in 2015 he worked with both The Prodigy and Leftfield, although a few nice words are given by rock legend Iggy Pop. The short interview is the film’s big finale and then we see Jason and Andrew watching it on a laptop - laughing their socks off. It is also a shame that we hear the same few songs played over again. They have quite a few albums now, so it would have been nice to hear a few more. Still, the simplicity and honesty is quite profound, no pretense, just complete purity in all its dirty glory. It’s quite the time piece too, a future classic no doubt and a music documentary people will go back and discuss thirty years from now.