Danbert Nobacon is not amused. The fountain of anger and spontaneous protest which took the form of a bucket of icy water over the unsuspecting deputy prime minister's head at the Brit Awards has been welling up for months. New Labour's spurned luvvies are on the march against the party which turned its back on them.

Lord Gowrie's resignation as chairman of the Arts Council in September was the rallying cry. He left in a state of high disdain, muttering something about philistines. Within days of his departure, Blair had announced a popularity-bolstering plan to divert a large slice of lottery funding from the arts into hospitals. The withdrawal of the English National Opera's grant followed shortly afterwards.

This was not, in itself, enough to constitute national outrage. But then along came The New Deal for under 25s; the benefits reshuffle which could leave the Gallagher brothers of the future unblocking toilets on Britain's run-down housing estates.

Alan McGee, head of Creation records and Oasis's svengali, was the first to point out Labour's slippery attitude towards arts funding. McGee, who endorsed New Labour both in word and wadge before the election - a service for which he was awarded with the title 'cultural adviser' - found himself having to remind the government, in a speech at an In The City conference, of their debt to the music industry and to consider the plight of musicians on benefits: "You've got to allow them to eat", he stressed.

Inspired by McGee's insight, I wrote a valedictory tribute to the thirty-year-old tradition of artists on the dole for The Guardian. Admittedly, the arguement for supporting potential rock stars at the expense of pensioners - let alone brass bands over hospital beds - was a slightly spurious one but I felt New Labour's hypocrisy on this issue needed to be addressed.

After all, they had solicited the youth (Britpop generation) vote like an old tart before the election: joining forces with superclub The Ministry of Sound, endorsing the Rock the Vote campaign (a mainly leftie consortium of musicians and comedians anyway) and using M People's rave anthem for their party political broadcasts.

There Blair stood in his Paul Smith suit and Patrick Cox shoes at September's Design Awards, after making a rousing speech about Britain as the "creative powerhouse of the world", and basked in the applause for the years of hard struggle that people like fashion designer Alexander McQueen, musicians Portishead, Jarvis Cocker and numerous others had put in whilst on the dole. Well, it just didn't seem right.

It was not difficult to find musicians, actors and artists to speak out about 'the betrayal'. Pulp, The Prodigy, D-Influence, Sarah Lucas, Tracy Emin and Bobby Carlyle - to name but a few - all owe their successes to the creative freedom they had in those formative years. Lucas put it plainly: "I just don't see where the funding's coming from now."

If the government didn't put something back into the arts quick, I concluded, they could find themselves the subjects of a new generation of Billy Bragg style political protest songs. 'New Labour Sold Out the Rockers' was already ringing in the ears of Chumbawumba's Danbert Nobacon.

By The Brit Awards this year, it was already seriously uncool for musicians to be connected to New Labour, just as it is 'sad' for any self-respecting designer to be involved in The Dome or any aspect of Britain's rebranding. A Paul McCartney rock concerto seems a more appropriate theme tune for new Britain these days.

Tony Blair's interest in the music business, like his failed student band, has been revealed as a half-hearted popularity stunt to increase his snog or vote count. This year he was wise to present Elton John with an award from the comfort of The Whitehouse. Even the placid piano player attempted a little jibe by offering the PM a paper doily (the lame-duck award for lack of contribution to the industry, no doubt).

I'm not sure what point John Prescott was making by turning up to the awards (he was probably acting under orders). But Nobacon knew exactly what point he was making and, even if it did involve the ritual humiliation of a much-loved old socialist, it is still a point shared by thousands. The papers will be running on 'Cool Britannia Goes Cold on Labour' for weeks and then even the baronesses on the board of the ENO will have to concede 'that hooligan's' role in bringing Labour's double standards to light.

The direct actions of road protesters has now been adopted by art activists. It is no coincidence that every public address Chris Smith, the Minister for Culture, has made since the bucket spree has begun with a three point plan concerning arts funding. Let's hope these are not empty boasts.

Imogen O'Rorke