Why scooterboys represent the best of British subculture

Homegrown heroes — Not everyone who rides a classic scooter is a Mod. Throughout the ’80s and ’90s, a far more frequent sight were Scooterboys and Scootergirls: a new breed of rider with a punk attitude and homegrown style.

My first scooter was an LI150 in 1979. I swapped it for an old gas fire out of my bedroom. At that time, you’d find a scooter in some old gimmer’s garage and give them a tenner for it. That same year I started hanging out with the Chorlton Trojans Scooter Club, which was Ian Brown, Mike Phoenix and all that crew. The first time I met Ian was when mine and Kaiser’s [singer with pre-Stone Roses band The Waterfront] mob had trouble with some ne’er-do-wells in Oldham and we had to recruit the Trojans to come and help kick fuck out of them. We’ve been friends ever since.

Our firm wasn’t so much Mod as a mixture of football fans, skinheads and fucking cranks. We recognised the lineage from Mod but we were more like street casuals. We wore Adidas trainers and straight jeans. Mod was always a bit too much fannying-about and elitism. You can overdo it. Mods are obsessed with image whereas Scooterboys will just get the army fatigues on and go. Their money gets spent on hyping the scooters. That’s what I love: it’s more about the scooters than the fashion.


Scarborough Easter ’79 was my first rally and a real eye-opener. My scooter was bust, so I went on the back of a mate’s. It was astounding: 10,000 scooters and the smell of 2-stroke everywhere. Those rallies broadened your horizons and exposed you to new music: Motown, Stax and a bit of Northern Soul, but also the Psychobilly thing. They also introduced me to stay-up-all-night pharmaceuticals.

Nobody had any money. Everyone was in the same boat. This was Thatcher’s Britain, lest we forget. We were always on the dole so we used to rough it; if someone had the money for a room, then about six or seven people bunked in.


I probably did the rallies until ’84 before I got more involved in bands, but I’ve always kept scooters for buzzing around my local area. I’ve still got a Lambretta GP and I fancy another one with a 275cc Targa Twin engine. (I deserve to treat myself because I’ve been working my nuts off for the past few years.)

To me, Scooterboys have always been forgotten people. Everyone remembers the Mods and Rockers but to be a Scooterboy was not such a defined thing. You weren’t restricted to only liking this because you dressed like that. You could have a flat-top or dreadlocks; it didn’t matter.

We deserve our moment in the sun for taking scooters to a different level in terms of tuning and customising, keeping the scene vibrant and alive. Without Scooterboys, it could have gone the way of the Teddy Boys: constantly regurgitating itself and going nowhere. Scooters are always in your blood. Once you get that 2-stroke in there, it’s hard to shift it…

Scooterboys: The Lost Tribe is available now through Carpet Bombing Culture.

This article appears in Huck: The Hedonism Issue. To see it in all its printed glory, order a copy in the Huck shop or subscribe to make sure you never miss another issue.

Enjoyed this article? Like Huck on Facebook or follow us on Twitter.


Ad

Latest on Huck

Sport

Is the UK ready for a Kabaddi boom?

Kabaddi, Kabaddi, Kabaddi — Watched by over 280 million in India, the breathless contact sport has repeatedly tried to grip British viewers. Ahead of the Kabaddi World Cup being held in Wolverhampton this month, Kyle MacNeill speaks to the gamechangers laying the groundwork for a grassroots scene.

Written by: Kyle MacNeill

Culture

One photographer’s search for her long lost father

Decades apart — Moving to Southern California as a young child, Diana Markosian’s family was torn apart. Finding him years later, her new photobook explores grief, loss and connection.

Written by: Miss Rosen

Culture

As DOGE stutters, all that remains is cringe

Department of Gargantuan Egos — With tensions splintering the American right and contemporary rap’s biggest feud continuing to make headlines, newsletter columnist Emma Garland explains how fragile male egos stand at the core of it all.

Written by: Emma Garland

Culture

Photo essay special: Despite pre-Carnival anxiety, Mardi Gras 2025 was a joyous release for New Orleans

A city celebrates — Following a horrific New Year’s Day terror attack and forecasts for extreme weather, the Louisiana city’s marquee celebration was pre-marked with doubt. But the festival found a city in a jubilant mood, with TBow Bowden there to capture it.

Written by: Isaac Muk

Sport

From his skating past to sculpting present, Arran Gregory revels in the organic

Sensing Earth Space — Having risen to prominence as an affiliate of Wayward Gallery and Slam City Skates, the shredder turned artist creates unique, temporal pieces out of earthly materials. Dorrell Merritt caught up with him to find out more about his creative process.

Written by: Dorrell Merritt

Music

In Bristol, pub singers are keeping an age-old tradition alive

Ballads, backing tracks, beers — Bar closures, karaoke and jukeboxes have eroded a form of live music that was once an evening staple, but on the fringes of the southwest’s biggest city, a committed circuit remains.

Written by: Fred Dodgson

Signup to our newsletter

Sign up to stay informed from the cutting edge of sport, music and counterculture, with personal takes on the state of media and pop culture in your inbox every month from Emma Garland, former Digital Editor of Huck, exclusive interviews, recommendations and more.

Please wait...