A word of advice to anyone feeling depressed about the current state of UK and world politics, you may like to pass on listening either to this cover of, or the original version of Red Sleeping Beauty; originally recorded by McCarthy in 1986 and here revived by Newcastle band, Razorblade Smile on their EP, Fastest Wide-Eyed Implement. The guitars may try and kick things along, but what sticks in the mind and tickles the tear ducts is the She/He won’t wake me refrain, which in the context of the song, I think, is about the respective efforts of both Margaret Thatcher and Neil Kinnock to kill off or dilute socialism as a means of waking the majority from their conditioning/slumber. In 2025, that line hits less because of its allusions to socialist/collectivist rhetoric, but more because it seems nobody is capable of turning back or repelling the forces of nationalism, far-right politics and creeping totalitarianism which too many “healthy” democracies seem to be sliding towards. The nightmare is playing out in front of us, but too many of the gatekeepers that were supposed to stop it from happening appear too lethargic to do anything, all while a jaded populace is shepherded towards being trained to accept ideologies which were once thought to be completely beyond the pale.
When McCarthy recorded the song, its roots as a song lamenting the withering of socialism as a mainstream ideology were inspired by two incidents: the Conservative Government coming out on top at the end of the 1984/85 Miners’ Strike and Labour leader, Neil Kinnock’s incendiary speech at the 1985 Labour Party Conference in which he excoriated the far-left elements of the party for being more interested in doctrine than they were in delivery, and highlighted how this had impacted on communities whose local authorities were run by Labour councils such as Liverpool, which at the time had strong links to the Militant movement. I saw Kinnock give that speech, I’d love to claim that it heralded a political awakening in me, but the truth is I was at home, sick from school, and it was something to watch on the telly. At 9 years old, it all flew over my head, but I remember feeling some kind of sympathy for Derek Hatton, because Kinnock and most of the rest of the conference hall seemed to be targeting him, which felt a little unfair to me. Of course, I wasn’t living under a Hatton controlled council, but I suppose you could say that those childlike instincts of compassion for an underdog were what led me to embrace Jeremy Corbyn 30 odd years later.
I can only speculate as to why Razorblade Smile chose to revive the song at this time. An attempt to cheer themselves up about the result of the 1992 UK General Election result? Scepticism about John Smith’s socialist credentials? If it was the latter, they would have been better served to wait either until the New Labour project was up and running under Tony Blair, or for the post-Corbyn purges which Keir Starmer threw himself into after his bait and switch campaign to become Labour leader. We’ll never know whether Smith would have used an election campaign to present what he stood for, instead of using it to define what he wasn’t, but I think Razorblade Smile could see the direction of travel when they recorded this. Conviction on its own might only take you so far, but electability without conviction only ends up disappointing everybody.
Despite the melancholy alluded to earlier, and the vicissitudes of UK and world politics over the ensuing years; a period which has seen socialism wane, wax, wane again and currently find itself trying to negotiate a morass of its own making, Red Sleeping Beauty ends on a note of defiance, by expressing a sentiment, which anyone dedicating themself to a world of improved opportunity and social justice should have tattooed on their chest or hanging over their front door:
Video courtesy of Heinz Brossolat (Razorblade Smile) and valprogify (Kinnock).
All lyrics are copyright of their authors.
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