Song of the Day: Music Inspired by Television Shows (Day Two). “And So It’s My Assumption, I’m Really Up the Junction”.

Up the Junction is the eighth track on, and third single from, Squeeze’s second album, Cool for Cats (1979).   The song became one of Squeeze’s most successful singles, reaching number two on the UK chart and has become one of their most enduring and recognisable compositions. The tale of working class life set in the band’s native South London is notable for not having a chorus, instead using key changes to its base progression in order to mirror the dramatic arc of its storyline.  ”.  Structurally, the song is similar to Bob Dylan’s Positively 4th Street (1965), which songwriters Chris Difford and Glenn Tilbrook have cited as an influence.  In a piece written for The Guardian on the 5th May 2015, Tilbrook stated “There’s no chorus because I thought a repeated section would spoil the flow of Chris’s story”.

Lyrically, the song is well-known for its use of half rhymes.  For example, “ready” and “telly”; “kitchen” and “missing”.  The title of the song is not sung until the final line.  Difford has been known to cite Roxy Music’s Virginia Plain (1972), which similarly only has the song’s title in the last line, as the inspiration for this.

Difford has acknowledged that the song takes its title from the 1965 television play Up the Junction, aired as part of The Wednesday Play series, directed by Ken Loach, and the subsequent film version, released in 1968.

The play is, in turn, based on Neil Dunn’s collection of short stories of the same name, first published in 1963. The film version of Up the Junction featured a song named also named Up the Junction by Manfred Mann, which is unrelated to Squeeze’s song.

Although Squeeze’s Up the Junction is not a retelling of the play, it does include several parallels.  Firstly, both the play and Squeeze’s song are a portrayal of daily life in the Clapham area of London, the song beginning with the lines “I never thought it would happen, With me and a girl from Clapham”.  The “Junction” in both the song and the play refers to Clapham Junction railway station.  Clapham is seven miles southwest of Deptford, where the band is from.  The term ‘up the junction’ is English slang meaning without hope, or taken at its crudest level with another English colloquialism, ‘screwed’.   In turn, ‘screwed’ is also a colloquialism for someone who has just had sexual intercourse, thus linking in with the theme of pregnancy in both the play and particularly in the song, in which it is a main theme.  The use of colloquial working class language is prominent in both the song and the play.

As the song continues, the “windy common” mentioned as the place where ‘it happened’ between the song’s protagonist and his love interest is a 200 acre park in Clapham which has sports fields, freshwater ponds, a bandstand and its own tube station.  Further into the song, following a verse of flirting between the couple, we find the lines “We moved into a basement, With thoughts of our engagement, We stayed in by the telly, Although the room was smelly”.  Here, the protagonist and love interest are living together and thinking about marriage.  They are living very modestly but happily, staying at home and enjoying each other’s company and watching the television.  Further to this, in the following lines, “We spent our time just kissing, The Railway Arms we’re missing, But love has got us hooked up, And all our time it took up” sees the couple loved up and starting a new way of life away from the local pub, “The Railway Arms”.

In the following verse, the protagonist tells of how he “got a job with Stanley, He said I’d come in handy, And started me on Monday, So I had a bath on Sunday”.  The first day of a new job being a special enough occasion to have a bath is a reflection of the economic situation of the characters in the song.  Additionally, the idea of having a bath as and when needed is an example of the humorous self-defacing attitude towards British working class life prominent in the song.  For further examples of this, see the line “She dealt out all the rations, With some or other passions” in the first verse.  This line not only depicts the love interest playing hard to get but is also a comment on rationing in post-World War Two Britain, which didn’t end until 1954.  If we were to take the song to be set in the same era as the play, with the book on which it was based having been published in 1963, then although rationing was finished, it would have still been very fresh in the memories of the characters involved.  Also, the couple live in a “basement”, which has connotations of them being at the bottom of the property ladder.

In the next verse, “I worked eleven hours, And bought the girl some flowers, She said she’d seen a doctor, And nothing now could stop her”, we see the change in circumstances which informs the rest of the song.  Interestingly, after the love interest finds out she is pregnant, the song’s tempo speeds up, perhaps referring to the passage of time taking on a new speed and evoking the chaos which the couple are thrown into.

For the next verse, “I worked all through the winter, The weather brass and bitter, I put away a tenner, Each week to make her better, And when the time was ready, We had to sell the telly, Late evenings by the fire, With little kicks inside her”, the song shifts from a major to minor key in order to simulate the passing of time and circumstance and the change of season.  The “brass” is another British colloquialism from the phrase “cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey”.  It is derived from small monkeys cast from alloy brass which were very common tourist souvenirs from China and Japan in the 19th and 20th centuries.  They often, although not always, came in a set of three representing the Three Wise Monkeys carved in wood above the Shrine of Toshogu in Nikko, Japan.  Some sets added a fourth monkey with its hand covering its genitals.  Similarly, “tenner” is another British colloquialism, meaning ten pounds.  The fact that the couple have “to sell the telly [another colloquialism, meaning television]” shows how tight money is, particularly with their new arrival imminent.  The couple also live in cramped conditions; note how their living quarters is referred to as a “room” earlier in the song.  This means they would be thinking there would now be very little room for a “telly” once the baby arrived.  The fact that the couple are sitting in front of the fire in the penultimate line of the verse is telling of the coldness of the couple’s flat during the winter.

The next verse, “This morning at four fifty, I took her rather nifty, Down to an incubator, Where thirty minutes later, She gave birth to a daughter, Within a year a walker, She looked just like her mother, If there could be another”, switches back to the major key, conveying the joy of childbirth.  This joy is short-lived, as the next verse explains:  “And now she’s two years older, Her mother’s with a soldier, She left me when my drinking, Became a proper stinging, The devil came and took me, From bar to street to bookie, no more nights by the telly, no more nappies smelling”.  In this verse, the stress of fatherhood has taken its toll on the protagonist, his partner and his daughter are no longer in his life and he has succumbed to the twin vices of drinking and gambling.

The following verse, “Alone here in the kitchen, I feel there’s something missing, I’d beg for some forgiveness, But begging’s not my business, And she won’t write a letter, Although I always tell her, And so it’s really my assumption, I’m really up the junction” finds the protagonist missing his partner and daughter and his old life but admitting that it is his own fault that he is on his own.  The fact that he wants his ex-spouse to write a letter shows that the protagonist wants to make amends for his wrongdoings and have his family back in his life.  The brilliance of the song’s composition is seen in the way in which the final line, featuring the phrase “up the junction”, referring to both the hopelessness of the situation and Clapham Junction, brings the song full circle with the opening scene, “I never thought it would happen, With me and a girl from Clapham”.

And what became of the “girl from Clapham”?  She reappears in the later Squeeze song A Moving Story, from their 1998 album Domino.

The music video for Up the Junction features the band playing in a flat.  The flat is actually John Lennon’s old house, the same house where the promotional film for Imagine was filmed.  Additionally, the song is also notable for its accompanying Top of the Pops performance, for which the band, miming to the song, swapped instruments.  For example, singer Glenn Tilbrook is on drums and pianist Jools Holland is on guitar.

Song of the Day: Crime in Music (Day Six). “William Zantzinger Killed Poor Hattie Carroll …”

The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll from Bob Dylan’s 1964 album The Times They Are a-Changin’ tells the story of the murder of Hattie Carroll, a 51 year old barmaid, by William Devereux “Billy” Zantzinger (referred to as “William Zantzinger” in the song).  The lyrics of the song are a commentary on 1960s racism.  At the time of Carroll’s murder, Charles County was still strictly segregated by race in public places such as restaurants, churches, theatres, doctor’s offices, buses and the county fair.  The schools of Charles County remained segregated until 1967.  William Zantzinger was then 24 years old and a wealthy young tobacco farmer from Charles County, Maryland.  Zantzinger was sentence to a mere six months in a county jail after being convicted of assault.

The murder in the song took place in the early hours of the 9th February, 1963 “At a Baltimore hotel society gathering”, the white tie Spinsters’ Ball at the Emerson Hotel in Baltimore.  Zantzinger, in a drunken state, assaulted at least three of the Emerson Hotel workers: a bellboy, a waitress and at about 1.30am, Carroll.  The murder weapon was a toy cane, referred to in the line “William Zantzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll, With a cane that he twirled round his diamond ring finger”.  Carroll “who gave birth to ten children”, was president of a black social club.

Zantzinger was already drunk before reaching the Emerson Hotel that night.  The cane that the 6’2” inch tall killer used was a 25 cent toy.  At the Spinsters’ Ball, he called a 30 year old waitress a “nigger” and hit her with the cane.  The waitress ran out of the room in tears.  A few moments later, he ordered a bourbon from Carroll.  When he was displeased with the length of time that Carroll had taken fetching the bourbon, Zantzinger cursed her and called her a “nigger”, followed by “you black son of a bitch” and struck her on the shoulder and across the head with the cane.  In the court notes, it states:  “He asked for her a drink and called her ‘a black bitch’, and a ‘black son of a bitch’.  She replied ‘Just a moment’ and started to prepare his drink.  After a delay of perhaps a minute, he complained about her being slow and struck her a hard blow on her shoulder about half-way between the point of her shoulder and her neck”.  She handed him his drink.  After striking Carroll, he attacked his own wife, knocking her to the ground and hitting her with his shoe.

Within minutes of receiving the blow, Carroll leaned heavily against the barmaid next to her and complained of feeling ill.  Carroll told co-workers, “I feel deathly ill, that man has upset me so”.  The barmaid, along with another employee, helped Carroll to the kitchen.  Her arm became numb and her speech became thick.  She then collapsed and was taken to hospital.  She died eight hours after the assault.  Her autopsy revealed hardened arteries, an enlarged heart and high blood pressure.  A spinal tap confirmed that Carroll had died from a brain hemorrhage.  She died in Mercy Hospital at 9am on the 9th February, 1963.

Initially, Zantzinger was charged with murder.  His defence was that he had been extremely drunk and said he had no memory of the attack.  His charge was reduced to manslaughter and assault, based on the likelihood that it was her stress reaction to his verbal and physical abuse that had led to the intracranial bleeding, rather than blunt-force trauma from the blow that left no lasting mark.  On the 28th August, Zantzinger was convicted of both charges and given the six month sentence.  Time Magazine covered the sentencing on the 6th September, saying:

“In June, after Zantzinger’s phalanx of five top flight attorneys won a change of venue to a court in Hagerstown, a three-judge panel reduced the murder charge to manslaughter.  Following a three-day trial, Zantzinger was found guilty.  For the assault on the hotel employees: a fine of $125.  For the death of Hattie Carroll: six months in jail and a fine of $500.  The judges considerately deferred the start of the jail sentence until September 15, to give Zantzinger time to harvest his tobacco crop”.

Coincidentally, Zantzinger’s sentencing occurred on the same day as Martin Luther King led 250,000 civil rights marchers to Washington in what the New York Times called “the greatest assembly for the redress of grievances that this capital has ever seen” and made his famous “I Have a Dream” speech in Washington.  Bob Dylan was present as Martin Luther King made his speech and on the journey back to his home in New York, read about the conviction of Zantzinger in the New York Times.  The headline read “Farmer sentenced in barmaid’s death”.  This inspired Dylan to write a protest song about the case whilst sitting in an all night cafe in Manhattan.  Dylan had previously written about two other white-on-black murders, both in the 18 months prior to the writing of The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll.  These songs were The Death of Emmett Till about the murder of a 14-year old African American by two white men in 1955 …

… and Only a Pawn in their Game (also from The Times They Are a-Changin’) about the murder of civil rights activist Medgar Evers, shot in Jackson, Mississippi in June 1963.

The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll tells of how Zantzinger’s wealth and connections aided the lenient nature of the sentencing.

In the second verse of the song, Zantzinger and the wealth and influence which helps him to get out of prison on bail quickly are described thus:  “William Zantzinger, who at twenty-four years, Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres, With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him, And high office relations in the politics of Maryland, Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders, And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling, In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking”.

Now compare this description of Zantzinger with the description of Hattie Carroll in verse three:  “Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen, She was fifty one years and gave birth to ten children, Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage, and never once sat at the head of the table, And didn’t even talk to the people at the table, Who just cleaned up all the food from the table, And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level, Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane, That sailed through the air and came down through the room, Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle, And she never done nothing to William Zantzinger”.

In complete contrast to Zantzinger, a swearing, sneering and snarling tongued rich young white man who was given a silver spoon by his parents, Carroll is described as a gentle poor black woman who spent her life caring for others, whether it was her family or the people whom she served in the Baltimore hotel in which she was killed but was discriminated against because of the colour of her skin.

The fourth verse of the song tells of how the judge presiding over the trial stresses that all are equal in the court of law, but also of how this will be of no help because of the wealth of the accused: “In the courtroom of honour, the judge pounded his gavel, To show that all’s equal and that the courts are on the level, And that the strings in the books ain’t pulled and persuaded, and that even the nobles get properly handled, Once the cops have chased after and caught ‘em, And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom, Stared at the person who killed for no reason, Who just happened to be feelin’ that way without warnin’, And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished, And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance, William Zantzinger with a six-month sentence”.

The chorus of The Lonesome death of Hattie Carroll, “But you who philosophise disgrace and criticize all fears, take the rag away from your face, Now ain’t the time for your tears”, refers to the way in which upper class women would hide their faces with a veil or some sort of cloth (a “rag”) when experiencing strong emotional outbursts like tears which were not considered proper in public.  However, burying your face in a cloth over-dramatically, implying tears, was also a way to fake emotions.  In the chorus, Dylan purposely uses very elaborate words such as “philosophise disgrace” and “criticise fears” in order to describe their actions, further supporting the impression that Dylan is addressing the upper-class public with these lines, criticizing them for the very shallowly condemning such acts without caring to find the real cause and root of the problem:  The particular tragedy of the case not being the murder of an innocent woman, or that the perpetrator got out on bail so quickly, but that he was only sentenced to six months in prison.  Therefore, in The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll, Dylan makes the point that the main tragedy is not that upper class people treat the lower class badly; it is the ease with which they get away with it.

In 2001, talking to Howard Sounes for Down the Highway, the Life of Bob Dylan, Zantzinger dismissed the song as a “total lie”, going on to say, “It’s actually had no effect on my life”.  He also expressed his disdain for Dylan saying, “He’s a no-account son of a bitch, he’s just like a scum of a scum bag of the earth, I should have sued him and put him in jail”.  Zantzinger died on the 3rd January 2009 at the age of 69.

“This is a true story, it’s taken out of the newspapers”

– Bob Dylan introducing The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll at Manchester Free Trade Hall in May 1965.

Song of the Day: Places in Music (Day Four). “Oh Manchester, So Much to Answer for …”

Suffer Little Children, the final song on The Smith’s self-titled debut album (1984), is a chilling and sombre account of The Moors Murders, carried out by Myra Hindley and Ian Brady between July 1963 and October 1965.  It would be a further year before Hindley and Brady confessed to the murders and the full extent of the crimes that inspired Suffer Little Children would come to light.  At the time of the song’s writing and release, Hindley and Brady had both maintained their innocence and had not told the police about two of the murders, hence Suffer Little Children only including the names of three of the victims.

“Over the moor, take me to the moor, Dig a shallow grave, And I’ll lay me down”

The first victim of the killer couple was the 16 year old Pauline Reade, Hindley’s neighbour.  Reade had disappeared on her way to a dance at the British Railways Club in Gorton, Manchester, on the 12th July 1963.  On the same evening, Brady had told Hindley that he wanted to “commit his perfect murder”.  He told Hindley to drive her van around the local area whilst he followed on his motorcycle.  Upon spotting the victim for “his perfect murder”, he would flash his headlights and Hindley was to stop to offer that person a lift.

Driving down Gorton Lane, Brady saw a young girl walking towards them and signalled Hindley to stop, which she did not do until she had passed the girl.  Brady stopped his motorbike alongside Hindley’s van and demanded to know why she had not offered the girl a lift, to which Hindley replied that she recognised the girl as Marie Ruck, a neighbour of her mother’s.

Shortly after this failed attempt, at around 8pm, the couple were driving down Froxmer Street when Brady noticed a girl wearing a pale blue coat and white high-heeled shoes walking away from them.  Brady once again signalled for Hindley to stop.  Upon stopping, Hindley recognised the girl as Pauline Reade, a friend of her younger sister, Maureen.  Reade accepted a lift from Hindley.  Hindley told Reade that she had lost an expensive glove on Saddleworth Moor and asked if she would mind helping her to find it.  Reade said she was in no hurry and agreed to helping Hindley.

Reade was 16 years old, a few years older than their intended first victim, Maria Ruck.  Hindley realised that there would be slightly less commotion over the death of a teenager than there would be over a child of seven or eight.  Upon reaching the moor, Hindley stopped her van and Brady arrived shortly afterwards on his motorcycle.  She introduced him to Reade as her boyfriend and said he had also come to find the missing glove.  When questioned, Hindley told the police that Brady had taken Reade onto the moor whilst Hindley waited in the van.  After about 30 minutes, Brady returned alone and took Hindley to the place where Reade lay dying.  Her throat had been cut twice with a large knife, with the larger of these wounds being across her voice box.  The collar of Reade’s coat had been pushed into the wound in a deliberate fashion.

Whilst Brady had gone to find the spade which he had hidden nearby to bury the body, Hindley told of how she had noticed that Reade’s coat was undone and her clothes were untidy, leading Hindley to guess that Brady had sexually assaulted her.  However, Brady’s account of the murder differs greatly.  Brady claimed that Hindley was present at the crime scene and that she even took part in the sexual assault.  After burying Reade’s body, Brady put his motorcycle in the back of Hindley’s van.   Whilst returning home, Hindley and Brady passed Reade’s mother, Joan, who was accompanied by her son, Paul.  Hindley and Brady stopped to help Joan search the streets for her daughter.

Oh John, you’ll never be a man, And you’ll never see your home again”.

The second victim of The Moors Murders was 12 year old John Kilbride.  Hindley and Brady approached Kilbride at a market in Ashton-Under-Lyne in the early evening of the 23rd of November 1963.  The couple offered Kilbride a lift home, telling him that his parents would be worried about him being out so late.  They bribed Kilbride with a bottle of sherry and he got into the Ford Anglia car that Hindley had recently hired.  Once in the car, Brady told Kilbride that the sherry was at the couple’s home and that they would have to make a detour to collect it before dropping him home.  Once they were on their way, Brady suggested another detour to search for a glove which he said Hindley had lost on the moor.  Upon reaching the moor, Brady took to the child with him to supposedly search for Hindley’s glove whilst Hindley waited in the car.  Brady sexually assaulted Kilbride and attempted to slit his throat with a 6-inch serrated blade before eventually strangling him with a piece of string, possibly a shoelace.

“A woman said: “I know my son is dead, I’ll never rest my hands on his sacred head.””

The third victim was Keith Bennett, who vanished from his grandmother’s house in Longsight, Manchester, during the early evening of 16th June, 1964, four days after his twelfth birthday.  Hindley asked Bennett for his help in loading some boxes into her Mini pick-up truck and told him that she would drive him home afterwards.  Once she had lured him into the pick-up truck, she drove to a lay-by on Saddleworth Moor, where Brady was waiting.  Once again, Bennett was told that Hindley had lost a glove and she had asked for his help in finding it.  Brady went with Bennett to find the fictitious glove.  Hindley kept watch until 30 minutes later when Brady reappeared, alone and carrying a spade which had been hidden there earlier.  When Hindley asked Brady how he had killed Bennett, he said he had sexually assaulted him and strangled him with a piece of string.

“Lesley Ann, with your pretty white beads”.

On the 26th December 1964, Hindley and Brady went to a local fairground in search of another victim.  They noticed Lesley Ann Downey standing beside one of the rides.  After realising Downey was on her own, they approached the 10 year old girl and deliberately dropped some of the shopping they were carrying close to her.  They asked for Downey’s help in carrying the shopping to the couple’s car and then to their home.  Downey agreed and once back at Hndley and Brady’s home, she was undressed, gagged and forced to pose for photographs before being raped and killed.  It is suspected that like the previous two victims, Downey was strangled with a piece of string.

When questioned about the murder, Hindley maintained that she had gone to fill a bath for the child and on returning found the girl dead, killed by Brady.  However, Brady stated that it was Hindley who killed Downey.  The morning after the murder, Hindley and Brady drove Downey’s body to Saddleworth Moor and buried her, naked with her clothes at her feet, in a shallow grave.

“Edward, see those alluring lights?  Tonight will be your very last night”.

The final victim of the couple was 17 year old engineer Edward Evans.  On the 6th October 1965, Brady had met Evans at Manchester Central Railway Station.  Hindley had driven Brady to Manchester Central Station and waited outside whilst Brady selected their victim.  After a few minutes, Brady reappeared with Evans, introducing Hindley as his sister.  Brady invited Evan’s back to the couple’s home at 16 Wardle Brook Avenue in Hattersley, Manchester for a drink, where Brady beat him to death with an axe.

This murder was to prove to be the couple’s undoing, as now becoming cocky and complacent, Brady had attempted to recruit Hindley’s brother-in-law, David Smith into their murderous plans.  When the couple had arrived home with Evans, Brady had sent Hindley to fetch Smith.  On returning with Smith, Hindley told Smith to wait outside for her signal, a flashing light.  After the signal, Smith knocked on the door and was met by Brady who asked him if he come for “the miniature bottles of wine”.  Brady led Smith into the kitchen and left him there, saying that he was going to collect the wine.  A few minutes later, Smith heard a scream followed by Hindley shouting loudly for him to come and help.  Smith rushed into the living room to the sight of Brady repeatedly striking Evans over the head with the flat of an axe.  He watched in shock as Brady then throttled his victim with a length of electrical cord.  During the process of killing Evans, Brady had sprained his ankle and the body was too heavy for Smith to take to the car on his own.  They therefore wrapped the body in plastic sheeting and put it in the spare bedroom.  Smith agreed to help Brady to dispose of Evans’s body the following evening.  He went home and, horrified at what he had witnessed, told his wife, Maureen, what he had seen.  The couple called the police from a public phone box at 6.07am the morning after the murder, the police searched the house and found the body of Edward Evans and Hindley and Brady were arrested.

When interrogated about the events, Hindley said “Whatever Ian has done, I have done”, alluded to in Suffer Little Children with the line “Wherever he has gone, I have gone”.  Upon sentencing the couple to life imprisonment, the judge, Mr Justice Atkinson described Brady and Hindley as “two sadistic killers of the utmost depravity”.

“Oh, find me … find me, nothing more, We are on a sullen misty moor …” 

Initially, the police were only aware of three killings, those of Edward Evans, Lesley Ann Downey and John Kilbride.  The investigation was reopened in 1985 after Brady was reported in the press as having confessed to the murders of Pauline Reade and Keith Bennett.  Hindley and Brady were taken separately to Saddleworth Moor to assist the police in their search for the bodies of Reade and Bennett, by then having both confessed to their murders.

Hindley was characterised by the press worldwide as “the most evil woman in Britain”.  She made several attempts to have her life sentence overturned, claiming that she was reformed and no longer a danger to society, but was never released.  Hindley died in 2002, aged 60 years old.  Brady was declared criminally insane in 1985 and has since been confined to the high security Ashworth Hospital.  He has made it clear that he never wants to be released and has repeatedly asked that he be allowed to die.

At the time of the murders, Morrissey was a child himself, being 4 years old in 1963, making the youngest victims not too much older than him.  The reaction in Manchester was one of horror and disbelief that such acts could happen and also that one of the perpetrators was a woman, perhaps why the song focuses more on Hindley than Brady.  In Suffer Little Children, Morrissey may allude to the shock felt that one of the perpetrators was a woman in the phrase “Hindley wakes …” Hindle Wakes is 1910 play by Stanley Houghton (which has since seen various film versions).  The play criticises the patriarchal society’s view that women, unlike men, are not governed by the laws of nature, primarily those related to sexual desires.  Therefore, by referring to the title of the play with the phrase “Hindley wakes”, Morrissey may be extending this criticism to include many peoples’ beliefs, particularly at the time of Hindley’s arrest, that a woman is not naturally capable of horrors such as the Moors Murders or that she could not have been a conscious participant, instead being manipulated by the man.

Morrissey wrote Suffer Little Children after reading Emlyn Williams’s book Beyond Belief: A Chronicle of Murder and its Detection (1967).  It was one of the first songs that lyricist Morrissey wrote with guitarist Johnny Marr.  The title of the song is taken from the Gospel of Matthew 19:14 in which Jesus rebukes his disciples for turning away a group of children by saying, “Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for such is the kingdom of heaven”.

Suffer Little Children caused much controversy at the time of its release, particularly when placed in context of an album on which the opening song, Reel Around The Fountain, was said by many, including the press, to allude to a homosexual and potentially paedophilic relationship (“It’s time the tale were told, Of how you took a child, And you made him old”).

Similarly controversial at the time was track 5, The Hand That Rocks the Cradle, which the press also suggested was about paedophilia.  These claims have been strongly denied by the band.

Suffer Little Children cause more controversy when it was featured on the B-side of the single Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now (1984).  The single featured an image of 1960’s pools winner Viv Nicholson who bore more than a passing resemblance to Myra Hindley, something that many newspapers picked up on.  As a result, the single and album were both withdrawn from sale by some retailers, including Woolworths and Boots.  Despite this, Morrissey later struck up a close friendship with Ann West, the mother of victim Lesley Ann Downey, after she accepted that the band’s intentions had been entirely honourable.