King of the Wild Frontier (1981)

 Some people don't believe me.

A relative of mine said; "people who really do have a mental illness never talk about it - they keep it quiet. Anybody who says they're depressed is just wanting attention."  

What a stupid thing to say. What a stupid, ignorant thing to say.

 

I can understand why people don't want to 'come out' as having a mental health problem. When I was a kid, you'd sometimes hear about women who had 'problems with their nerves' or were described as being 'highly strung' but nobody ever talked about men in the same way.

People laughed at drunks or were scared of the old bloke who talked to himself in the Town Centre, but nobody thought about what might be at the root of it all.

'Depression' or 'anxiety' weren't commonly used words - people were 'nutters' or 'psychos'. 

I grew up on a council estate in the North East of England. It was a small town with no cinema, no theatre, no museum and no book shops. Apart from school trips to Darlington Civic Theatre, the only entertainment or 'culture' available was borrowing a book from the tiny town Library or watching the TV.

I watched far too much TV: Swap Shop, Basil Brush and Doctor Who on Saturdays, Spider-man cartoons on Sunday mornings, Jackanory or Blue Peter on weekdays, and Top of the Pops on Thursdays.

Pop and rock music pretty much passed me by until the death of John Lennon. I'd never heard of The Beatles before that.

John Lennon's music was everywhere in December 1980. Each week Top of the Pops ended with (Just Like) Starting Over, Imagine or Woman as the UK went through a national period of mourning and everybody bought a lot of John Lennon records. 

And then Roxy Music released their tribute version of Jealous Guy - which also seemed to be Number 1 for ages.

For me, the most important thing about Jealous Guy was the fact that it kept Kings of the Wild Frontier by Adam and The Ants at Number 2. 

Adam and The Ants were on Top of the Pops nearly every week. They sounded - and looked - like nothing else on the show.

The music was loud, strange and exciting and it involved a lot of dressing up.

I was 7 when I bought my first vinyl single with my own money – and of course it was Kings of the Wild Frontier. 99 pence in Woolworths; that was two whole weeks worth of pocket money.

A couple of months later, my Nanna gave me money for my birthday and it all went towards the Kings of the Wild Frontier album. It was the first proper album I owned (before that it was all Geoff Love plays Superhero Themes or Christmas with Pinky & Perky). It's still one of my all time favourite records. Dog Eat Dog, Antmusic, Ants Invasion... they were on a loop on my record player and in my head.

Adam quickly became my hero.

I'd rush home from school every Tuesday lunch time to listen to the new top ten on the Radio just to see if Stand and Deliver was still number one.

I had posters, T shirts, badges – and every Christmas I asked for his latest album.

I even noticed that there were differences between the single and album versions of his songs - so I collected both. This is a pattern that followed me into adulthood - I become obsessed with things I like. I had to know everything about Adam and The Ants - who they were, who wrote the songs, who produced the records and who was Adam dressing up as at the end of the Prince Charming video? 

I had to know it all and own all the records. 

My folks weren't too happy. They thought men (even pop and rock stars) wearing make up was a bit 'puffy'.

My folks were also cross when I bought the first Adam and the Ants album (Dirk Wears White Sox) because there were some naughty words like pissing and knob on it. That made it even more exciting.

Even when he stopped making music, I still had the albums and I bought them all again on CD.

.Later, when I was working in local radio, I found an advance copy of Adam’s 1995 Wonderful album. He was back and his voice still sounded the same.

He’s still one of my heroes but for a different reason. Since my mid- twenties I’ve been diagnosed with everything from depression to alcohol dependency to anxiety to bipolar disorder and back again. I’ve struggled to hold down jobs and maintain relationships. Most of the time I felt as if I was going mad. I thought I was going to end up on a park bench talking to myself. I didn’t feel as if I could tell anybody because - as that family member once told me - "people who really do have a mental illness never talk about it."

But Adam Ant talked about it – and he wrote about it. His autobiography made so much sense to me. The constant changes in his music and style and his inability to settle and his need to keep moving - I understood what that was about.

I’d left jobs, broken off friendships and moved house just because I thought any kind of change would make my life better and stop me from feeling like crap. I blamed the external things, because I didn't want to admit that there was something wrong with me.

I also understood the need to put on a different face – a whole different identity – in order to cope with the world.  Sometimes that can work for a bit and sometimes you can fool people into thinking that you are somebody else (somebody worth knowing?) but it's bloody exhausting. 

Adam talked about medication – about how it made him pile on weight, gave him insomnia and stopped him from working - and that's what happened to me, too. Having people pointing out that you've 'gone fat' or you've 'let yourself go' can absolutely crush your (already fragile) spirit.

I’ve always had a similar relationship with any prescribed medication: it’s an impossible balancing act because the side effects can leave you feeling even lower and less in control. 

I’ve admired Adam Ant for nearly 40 years and for many different reasons.

When I was a kid he brought colour, music and excitement into my life - as an adult I was inspired by his honesty.

Talking about it - and writing about it – has helped me. I hope it helped him too.