It is eminently easy to describe something that is revolutionary, in some ways quite disgusting and, by a quirk, ahead of its time, as ‘misunderstood’, yet Zo Street Howe, freelance writer and broadcaster, is perfectly content to make that statement on the cover of her latest book.

As the author of The Slits biography, she has certainly carried out her research properly, relating with Don Letts, the band’s manager, Keith Levene, better known as the guitarist from Public Image Limited, Johnny Lydon’s post-punk work-in-progress, and the various members of this girls’ band as it has passed through several transformations. They became better labelled as ‘The First Ladies of Punk’, originating from the archetypal art school background that has fuelled many popular areas of the music business.

However, while I have no issue with Ms Howe’s understanding of their situation, the fact that a biography has been written about them at all somehow does not gel with me. In the melee of punk nihilism that existed during the early to mid-1970s, the fact that a girl band could be formed that would be the female equivalent of the spitting, cursing and vile displays perpetrated by the likes of The Sex Pistols was amazing in itself. Girls were still expected to conform to certain standards in the mid-1970s and The Slits did not do so, vehemently.

Ms Howe also highlights that this is a band that could be almost forgotten and consigned to a margin entry in the history of ‘rock’. Yet, that statement is patently untrue, as any fan of the punk era would underscore, could they be bothered. To be fair, the book is well constructed and does highlight the relative freedom expressed by the girls, who were so desperate to be their own creation, although they still relied heavily on various gurus from around the business. The ‘beauty’ of punk lay in its defiantly contrary stance and no punk-rocker worth his or her salt would have ever agreed to a biography being carried out, as that would be the same as the very commercial sell-out that reliance on ‘the system’ would dictate. Yet, The Slits were so much more than stripped-off, swearing railers-against-the-establishment.

To the best of my knowledge, the band still exists, in somewhat altered form, although at its core is a musical capability that people like Levene, Letts and Mick Jones appreciate only too well. I have not forgotten the band and neither should you, thirty-odd years on. A worthwhile project and a decent paperback read (£14.95).