Friday Tunes: Frankly Mr. Shankly

This week’s installment of labour themes in pop culture is The Smith’s Frankly Mr. Shankly. This 1985 (I think) song was written as a message to the Band’s Label, disguised as a resignation letter from a worker to a boss.

What I like about this song is it teases out the meaninglessness and alienation of workers. Consider “Frankly, Mr Shankly, this position I've held/It pays my way and it corrodes my soul” and “But sometimes I'd feel more fulfilled/Making Christmas cards with the mentally ill”.

In an era marked by rhetoric around high involvement workplaces, team work and total quality management, it is refreshing to hear a more realistic assessment of most workplaces—even relatively good ones:

Frankly, Mr Shankly, since you ask
You are a flatulent pain the arse
I do not mean to be so rude
But still, I must speak frankly, Mr Shankly, give us money

A jaunty tune and cheeky lyrics can help workers who otherwise might over-identify with their employer or profession reconsider just who benefits the most from their work.



Frankly, Mr Shankly, this position I've held
It pays my way and it corrodes my soul
I want to leave you will not miss me
I want to go down in musical history

Frankly, Mr Shankly, I'm a sickening wreck
I've got the 21st century breathing down my neck
I must move fast, you understand me
I want to go down in celluloid history Mr Shankly

Fame, fame, fatal fame
It can play hideous tricks on the brain
But still I rather be famous
Than righteous or holy, any day, any day, any day

But sometimes I'd feel more fulfilled
Making Christmas cards with the mentally ill
I want to live and I want to love
I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of

Frankly, Mr Shankly, this position I've held
It pays my way and it corrodes my soul
Oh, I didn't realise that you wrote poetry
I didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poetry Mr Shankly

Frankly, Mr Shankly, since you ask
You are a flatulent pain the arse
I do not mean to be so rude

But still, I must speak frankly, Mr Shankly, give us money

-- Bob Barnetson