Soul Power Okeh Patch [Series V] [Unconfirmed]

Earlier this year, I was fortunate enough to snag a unique handful of 35mm celluloid slides of Craig Charles in full Lister attire that, I am fairly confident, were taken for his 1997 tie-in book, The Log: A Dwarfer's Guide to Everything, co-written by RRussell Bell. These little white plastic slabs were acquired simply to add to my pretty damn fine, top-notch collection of Red Dwarf-related goodies.

It was only once the slides were scanned at high resolution, that something unexpected became apparent...

Among the familiar details of Lister's jacket was a patch that I have been searching for now for far too long. The Soul Power Okeh patch, as seen during episodes, Holoship, The Inquisitor and Back To Reality, features two curved lines of text encompassing a clenched fist motif. It appears to have abandoned the jacket by the time Lister introduces the latter show as being The Favourite Ever Episode of the series in 1995. On broadcast footage, and even the upscaled Blu-rays, it's either too soft, too shadowed, or too partially obscured to make out. For years, I figured it was some kind of geisha motif. In the slides, however, it was suddenly legible. And with that, one of the few remaining unknown patches on Lister's jacket was at last identified.

Despite owning an SCPH-1002, I must confess to being no staunch audiophile. That said, I believe the phrase "Soul Power" entered common usage in the late 1960s, closely associated with Northern Soul, funk & soul music and broader Black cultural expression, popularized through artists like James Brown - whose 1971 track of the same name perhaps cemented the phrase into popular culture. "Soul Power" soon became shorthand for pride, resilience, and self-definition through music.

By the early 1970s, the term had crossed the Atlantic and was well established within UK soul culture, appearing on club flyers, clothing, badges, and patches aimed at music fans rather than mainstream fashion.

I know its cliché, but my own love of The Blues Brothers ties neatly into this - particularly the diner scene with Aretha Franklin, "Blue Lou" Marini, and Matt "Guitar" Murphy which is not only a great musical moment but a kind of cinematic homage to the connective power of Black music and culture - the same world in which soul food and soul music were lived, shared, and beloved long before they became, well, symbols.

In the same way that soul music became shorthand for a particular era and identity in African‑American culture, soul food emerged as a culinary expression of that identity. The term soul food first came into common use in the 60s and 70s, to describe the traditional cuisine of communities in the southern United States - archetypal dishes like fried chicken, collard greens, cornbread, and black‑eyed peas that have deep roots in both West African foodways, echoed the realities of life in the American South. This cuisine was not just sustenance, it was a shared cultural touchstone carried north during the Great Migration, and was celebrated as a marker of heritage and community.

I recall, many years ago, the main reason I visited a local Tesco's was because a family business had a row of stalls just by the checkouts in which a dozen steaming stainless steel trays warmed freshly-prepared jerk chicken, curry goat, and the like. So many people walked past without giving that delicious food a second glance. I wouldn't be surprised to hear that's the reason they don't operate there any more. I'll never forget the look on the lady's face when I shared with her how her food helped bring me out of my shell during a difficult period of my life. "... Would you like a salad?" she grinned, enthusiastically, before gifting me one on the house x

A similar thing happened during my college years, in which passersby would gleefully ignore the summer farmers' market and head unthinkingly into the brimming Maccies directly opposite. Don't get me wrong, I truly savour my biannual Big Mac, but the sheer expressions that we, complete strangers, would share in the queue for the monthly hog roast were priceless - as if we were in on something uniquely magical and just couldn't believe that anybody could escape the enticing aroma (that carried for miles) for what awaited us - at virtually the same price!

 

The inclusion of "Okeh" is also significant. Okeh Records, founded in 1918, was one of the first major labels to record African-American artists. During the 1920s it released jazz and blues recordings by such renowned figures as Louis Armstrong, King Oliver, and Lonnie Johnson.

Although Okeh's commercial influence diminished later in the century, its name remained culturally resonant, particularly among listeners with an interest in the roots of soul, jazz, and rhythm and blues. By the 1970s, "Okeh" as a term functioned largely as a historical reference point.

Soul music developed strong regional identities in the UK from the late 1960s onwards, particularly West London, Birmingham and Wolverhampton in the Midlands, and scenes in Manchester, Blackpool, and Wigan.

Back To Reality [Series V]

Interestingly, the shots appear to have been taken in Wardour Mews, tucked just off Wardour Street in Soho - an area has a rich history at the intersection of music and media. In the 1960s-1980s, nearby venues like the Marquee Club hosted early gigs by The Rolling Stones, The Who, and David Bowie, while Wardour Street itself was long part of London’s historic "Film Row," home to countless production and post-production companies.

The mews, quiet and tucked away, would have provided an ideal, discreet backdrop for a reference shoot - a hidden corner of a district that has been central to London's musical and creative culture for decades. I myself was last in the neighbourhood a matter of years ago, just down the road, supervising a colour grade. If only I'd known, I'd have gone and stood there for a few seconds, for some reason. Might even have taken a quick snapshot to look at later. Or share here for you lot.

The Inquisitor [Series V]

By the time Red Dwarf entered production in the 1980s, these influences were already well-established and had filtered into everyday clothing and iconography. And, I would bet my last dollarpound, had long-since congealed onto old @ccfunkandsoul's cultural radar. But don't take my word on that, kid, you're likely best off checking with him.

This, the closest physical example I've been able to identify, dates from the 1970s. However, the screen-used patch appears to show additional white areas on the clenched fist. This could be loose or frayed thread, age-related wear, or an entirely different but closely related design. For that reason, this patch is being catalogued as Unconfirmed, despite it otherwise being virtually identical and too featuring a solid yellow perimeter.

Even without full confirmation, the find helps narrow the design's origin and places it firmly within a specific musical and cultural moment. It reinforces the idea that Lister's jacket accoutrements are rooted in personal taste and music history rather than arbitrary decoration.

The patch measures approximately 75mm across. 

And there you have it. It was a pleasant surprise to notice this while reviewing the slides, and to find the patch itself has thankfully gifted me a nice note on which to end the year - which, frankly, came as something of a relief. I hope everyone reading is enjoying the Christmas period, and best wishes for the New Year.

... No, that sucks.

For 2026AD, I wish you love. Real love. Brilliant, fireworks-in-the-sky, from-here-to-eternity, rolling-naked-on-the-beach kind of love - and fantastic short walks with shared hands - and that person nicking the food from your plate without even asking - and them sending the odd text message to check in - and passersby in the supermarket remarking how this isn't gonna last, you know - and a stupendous date night, all the same, followed by a slightly irate board game battle - and a new, old shared blanket-  and some mega, tight, cosy, warm bear hugs - and big wet sloppy kisses you'll never forget. Because you deserve them.

Oh, and not forgetting, some amazing... primo dynamite... you know... with a large Quatrofamagio pizza with extra olives ready at the end. 

And even if none of that happens, remain safe in the knowledge that, as always, the infullible hunt for further leather-bound ephemera continuums... right here, at Caviar Jalfrezi Vindaloo.