THERE'S NO DOUBT THAT ROCK MUSIC CAN BE MADE TO SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS. BUT WHAT MAKES A MUSICIAN TAKE UP A POLITICAL CAUSE, AND WHAT WILL BE THE CONSEQUENCES FOR YOUR MUSIC IF YOU DO THE SAME?

IN THE POST-LIVE AID "global village", politics are an irrepressible force in modern music. At this very moment, the Amnesty International 'Human Rights Now!' tour rolls round the world, and in Springsteen, Gabriel and Sting, features some of the most respected artists of the '80s.

Yet in many ways, pop and politics seem strange bedfellows. In the (good?) old days, rock 'n' roll was boy-meets-girl, not picket-meets-riot-police. Yet as pop matured into an articulate voice for youth, so it was inevitable that it would begin to address the hopes and fears of its artists and its audience.

The late 1960s spawned a host of "concerned" songwriters. Mirroring the dawn of their respective careers eight years previously, the Beatles played "safe" and told everyone 'All You Need Is Love', while the Stones sang of the 'Street Fighting Man'. Later, John Lennon's 'Imagine' enjoyed two spells as the unofficial anthem of the Peace movement: when it was first released in 1975, and then again at Christmas 1980, after Lennon's sickening murder in blew York. (Ironically, the song Lennon once described as "communism with a candy coating" was also used as an anthem by Young Conservatives in the run-up to the 1987 general election.)

In 1977, a good ten years after the hippies' heyday, came the spark of punk. Yet the real anarchy remained firmly on the dancefloor, and politically at least, the New Wave movement now seems more dated than that of the '60s. Yet for today's songwriters, punk was the beginning: the spirit can still be heard in the work of Billy Bragg, the Pogues, and so on.

I know not why, but when politics and pop do mix in a caustic cocktail, it is invariably on the left of the spectrum (the main exception being the notorious Skrewdriver). During the late 1970s, in response to the rise of the National Front, the Rock Against Racism movement enjoyed a heady popularity. Artists finally came together to fuse their music with a common message. The line-up, including the Clash, Elvis Costello, Aswad and Steel Pulse, was formidable.

With 'Red Wedge' in the '80s, rock again seemed ready to stride confidently down a chosen political path - though like many attempts to bring a touch of left-wing ideology to Thatcher's Britain, it ended up looking a bit of a shambles.

Nonetheless, Red Wedge proved that pop was still ready to agitate where necessary. So while the '60s saw rock addressing issues of youth identity and sexual freedom and the '70s shifted the emphasis to race relations, the mass unemployment of the '80s and a heightened awareness of human rights issues throughout the world have resulted in many artists becoming more partisan. Today, we have Gail Anne Dorsey mulling over the threat of 'The Corporate World' and That Petrol Emotion adorning their record sleeves with anti-British propaganda. Diverse artists, maybe, but they share the common theme of injustice.

Through flexing their collective political muscles at various points in the last decade, some pop musicians have achieved a political respectability that seems to dwarf that of the "professionals" in the House of Commons and other seats of Government. When the History books are written (and some of them are being worked on right now), Bob Geldof won't be remembered for being the leering frontman of the Boomtown Rats, but for saying the "F-word" on prime-time BBC1 and raising a fortune in the process. He didn't quite raise enough to save his solo career, but there's no doubt the man's gotta lotta bottle. Three years later and we've Mandela Day (cue joke: "it was a con, I didn't get a free Nelson Mandela!") and the Amnesty tour. What next? Artists Against Apartheid in Johannesburg?

Yet despite the undoubted success, in propaganda terms, of these events, there are doubts as to how genuine they really are. The distinct lack of black artists at Live Aid was put down to problems of availability, but the removal of the Nelson Mandela backdrop during Whitney Houston's set at Wembley last summer proves that Money Talks. A number of artists (including Queen and Eric Clapton) made it clear the main attraction of Live Aid was the fact that the world and his wife were watching. The potential of these events to shift plastic is obvious, and it seems most of the live audiences attend to sing choruses, not causes.

"IN THE LAST DECADE, MUSICIANS HAVE ACHIEVED A POLITICAL RESPECTABILITY THAT DWARFS THAT OF THE 'PROFESSIONALS' IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS."

This is a problem encountered by individual artists, too. Billy Bragg, despite his worthy intentions to be a voice for the working man (sorry, person), must often question the quality of his success. His greatest achievement, other than once reducing a 'Top of the Pops' audience to stony silence, is probably providing witty and Kitsch entertainment for the concerned (but secure) middle-class of Britain's Universities and Colleges. With lyrics like "Join the struggle while you may, the revolution is just a T-shirt away", this irony obviously hasn't been lost on him. And as for the prospect of Tracy Chapman's 'Talkin 'Bout a Revolution' blaring from stockbrokers' in-car CD players... well, maybe even not paying your parking ticket is a step in the right direction.

Black artists face a similar problem - only more so. Musicians such as Gil-Scott Heron and Linton Kwesi Johnson have been seeking more relevance than spotlight and applause for longer than they'd probably care to remember. And as we move towards the 1990s, the vicious polemic of Public Enemy's "It takes a nation of millions to hold us back" is certainly a far cry from Marvin Gaye's 'What's Goin' On'. But Gaye's contemporary audience was close to the issues he addressed through his songs. Public Enemy's success in the USA has been somewhat muted, no doubt thanks to the "conservative" programming of US radio. And their biggest audience, here in good of Blighty, is largely white, merely getting off on the fact that they produce some of the best music of the late '80s. The preaching of Muslim fundamentalism and black separatism to a crowded Sheffield hall is a bizarre notion: they are no doubt moving more feet than minds. This is not to suggest they are misguided or wasting their time. It's simply that artists who address minority interests (as opposed to "everybody save the world"), such as Public Enemy or Billy Bragg, must be resigned to reaching few political ears.

Another choice the above two acts have made is to craft their music so that it actually sounds controversial - Public Enemy through their menacing sonic wail, Bragg through his, er, somewhat "raw" vocal technique and perky guitar chops. Paul Weller, being a bit of an old hand, has cracked this one, fusing caustic lyrics with the sound of sugar-sweet soul. Mutton dressed up as lamb? As if I'd even suggest it!

The greatest hope for political pop probably remains the championing of "global issues" (maaan!), such as the abolition of Apartheid or kicking some responsibility into the West for the plight of the underdeveloped world. The exploding interest in "World Music" should, with a little luck, expand our awareness of those on the wrong side of the World Bank counter. Interestingly enough, not long after Youssou N'dour's recruitment to the Amnesty tour, his own Senegalese government decided to ratify the United Nations' Declaration of Human Rights...

Peter Gabriel's tireless campaigning sometimes makes you think he's going to raise money to save the dodo, but in reality he's long realised his limitations. Half the people who took 'Games Without Frontiers' into the Top Ten probably didn't even realise it was written as a satire on warmongers and their global "playground". For Gabriel, this doesn't matter - take the message if you wish; if not, enjoy the music. Along with the Style Council and Everything But The Girl (among others), Gabriel treads an intelligent and accessible line between sentiment and entertainment. Which, I suppose, is pretty much where we came in.

So what does all this mean to the budding songwriter? The first thing to bear in mind is that you're unlikely to make bold, credible political statements and great pop songs at a very early stage in your career. A look through the progress of the artists mentioned above will show how their writing has matured over the years. The Police, for example, came up with classic pop songs like 'Can't Stand Losing You' and 'Message in a Bottle' long before they produced anything overtly political like 'Invisible Sun'. Since then, the quality of Sting's political preaching has also improved immeasurably. I personally found 'Russians' slightly embarrassing in its naïvete, but in 'They Dance Alone' (a fierce attack on the Chilean government's human rights record), Sting hit the bullseye, and not just artistically; the record was actually used by the anti-government "Vote No" campaign in the recent Chilean plebiscite, and since that campaign seems to have to come to a successful conclusion, the ex-Police frontman can confidently claim to have changed the world, or at least a small corner of it, in exactly the way he set out to.

This theme of gradual development leads us on to a second, perhaps more fundamental point: don't make the mistake of seeing political songwriting as a conscious decision. It should be a natural extension of your feelings and beliefs, and as such, is likely to develop in line with those beliefs. The older you are, the more aware of political issues you're likely to become, and so the more mature your songwriting will be. Perhaps this explains why people like Sting, Simple Minds and so on are becoming steadily more and more eloquent in expressing their beliefs - and enjoying more success in conveying them.

"IT'S RARE FOR A RECORD COMPANY TO REJECT AN ACT SIMPLY ON POLITICAL GROUNDS; IF THEY THINK YOUR POLITICS WILL SHIFT VINYL, THEY'LL SIGN YOU UP."

If you're convinced that what you stand for is right and writing songs about it comes naturally to you, fine. If you can't get it down on paper, or if you're simply not sure where you stand in the first place, don't go out of your way to make a political statement. There's no point adopting a stance you don't have faith in simply because it is fashionable, or because other band members/collaborators put pressure on you to do so.

If you are writing songs with a political flavour, a third point to consider is what consequences your opinions may have on your musical career. For example, you should be prepared for the "whimsical" reaction of the weekly music press. Take care not to be seen as a pretentious liberal - you'll be in for a hard time. The inkies' reasoning is simple. Sting, Gabriel, Simple Minds and U2 are the fat cats of the biz. What do they know of the poor, the persecuted or the downtrodden? Why don't they just sod off back to their mansions? Well, as always, actions speak louder than words, and the campaigning those artists undertake backs up their sloganeering. In many cases, however, that only adds to the tabloids' outrage.

At the other end of the spectrum is the "cheeky chappie" syndrome. Darlings of the press like Bragg and the Housemartins were singing loud and proud from the word go, and everyone knew where they stood. This, however, gave the media a green light to talk about their politics and nothing else. Public Enemy's interviews start with politics and end with politics. They probably welcome this, but if you do submit your political thesis to music, you'll have to accept that it'll probably be the most easily identifiable trait of your music - and therefore the element that receives most of the coverage.

Whatever your stance, don't write about it unless you're prepared to defend it against the doubting Thomases of the music press. Anyway, that's enough slagging of the press - it's a marvellous profession really! (Free drinks for the first ten people writing in agreeing.)

Assuming that your politics does something to get you noticed by the mass media, it may not be too long before the major record companies begin beating a path to your door. Even though we currently live in an increasingly conservative marketplace for new music, it's rare for a record company to reject an an simply on political grounds; if they think your politics will help shift vinyl, they'll sign you up anyway.

Dealing with mega-conglomerates like Warner Brothers and CBS will only pose problems if your politics are very extreme - and if that's the case, you probably won't want to deal with them anyway. The other possibility is that your message may be quite acceptable to a company like CBS for British and European markets, but deemed unpalatable for North America, which is generally considered an even more conservative market than the UK.

Another nut to crack is that of the playlist. Mainstream Radio 1, not exactly noted for its radical stance, frequently gives short shrift to vinyl political broadcasts. Neither Billy Bragg nor Public Enemy seem to get the exposure their status merits, but then again, they're probably not very attractive to the home-loving hoovering housewife. Wouldn't it be funny to hear 'Prophets Of Rage' on 'Our Tune'? OK, so I've got a perverted sense of humour...

More seriously, quite mainstream acts (like the Police and Paul McCartney) have suffered at the hands of nervous broadcasting executives, with records being banned from both radio and TV. Today, no act can say "Acid" on 'Top of the Pops', and the IBA have blacklisted the Pogues' 'Birmingham Six'; artists like That Petrol Emotion and Christy Moore are under consideration in the light of Douglas Hurd's "no publicity for Sinn Fein" directive. Being prudent on the subject, I'd just like to say... er, no comment.

Ultimately, there's room in today's record-buying climate for both the ardent propagandist and the gentle conscience prodder. While Rick Astley's ecstatic that someone wants to dance with him (nice one, Rick!), perhaps we should be grateful for anyone concerned with addressing the issues, rather than the issues of their address book. Mick Jagger might think 'It's Only Rock 'n' Roll', but whether it's Mel & Kim telling us all we need is 'Fun, Love and Money' or the Clash blaring 'Stand Up For Your Rights!', it's really saying something.

Even if rock can entertain the world, it can't hope to feed or clothe it. But as many artists - young and old - seem content to resurrect and re-hash the last two decades, there are still some singing the same old song that deserves to be heard. Listen, and make up your own mind.