a monthly trip
through music’s
golden years
this issue: 1981

springsteen“I haven’t changed”
starring...

the police
kraftwerk
the cure
tom waits
new order
marvin gaye
black sabbath
the jamu2

PLUS!

iggy | madness | soft cell | bob marley | bauhaus | dexys

1981m o n t h by mon th

Welcometo 1981These are suspicious times, and while the world of musicflourishes, it does so with a lot on its mind. In the early part of
the year, New Order emerge from the ashes of Joy Division – butwhat sinister preoccupations, some wonder, lie behind thatname? Interviewed extensively, the band Kraftwerk reveal how
their obsession with computers is a rebellion against control.
Similarly, musicians are keener than ever to articulate which side they’re on.
When Oi! band The 4-Skins play a gig in an Asian community, the evening ends
in a riot. Madness issue a statement about where they stand. Later, Paul Weller
comes out against nuclear weapons. When “Ghost Town” by The Specials
reaches the top of the chart in the week of the royal wedding, it seems aparticularly ironic comment on the nation’s priorities.
Even through adversity, though, music still triumphs. From new and vibrantelectronic pop, to the lyrical new guitar bands from Scotland, the passionate
rock of U2 or our cover star Bruce Springsteen, there’s plenty to lift the spirits.
This is the world of The History Of Rock, a monthly magazine that follows eachturn of the rock revolution. Whether in sleazy dive or huge arena, passionate
and increasingly stylish contemporary reporters were there to chronicle events.
This publication reaps the benefits of their understanding for the reader
decades later, one year at a time.
Missed one? You can find out how to rectify that on page 144.
In the pages of this 16th edition, dedicated to 1981, you will find verbatim
articles from frontline staffers, filed from the thick of the action, wherever it
may be. Witnesssing a taxi radio interrupt a Black Sabbath guitar solo. Talking
criminal databases with Kraftwerk. Or hearing about the time Bruce
Springsteen vaulted the wall into Gracelands, where he thought he saw Elvis at
the window.
Bruce wonders if people are losing their ability to dream. It’s his job, he thinks,
to make sure they don’t.

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 3

1981

m o n t h by mon thContents

6 NewsNew Order play live.
Introducing… Bauhaus. RIP,
Tim Hardin. A revealing chatwith Robert Wyatt.

12

U2

The band’s frontman, Paul
Hewson, explains the band’scommitment to passionate rock,not originality for the sake of it.

16 Tom Waits

A conversation about Bette
Midler, arcane fish and Francis
Ford Coppola with the maker ofHeartattack And Vine.

PaUL naTKIn / GETTy

20

Depeche Mode

The unshowy Basildon
boys explain their position at thedancey end of electronic pop.

24

Live

At an undisclosed locationin Holland, to see the start of a

Dexys spin-off, and in London withThrobbing Gristle and Clock DVA.

26 Marvin Gaye

A gig brought him to
London. Troubles of a personal
and professional kind have kept
the soul legend here.

30 Brian Eno

The professorial producer
shines a light on his recent workwith David Byrne. And, in othernews, enthuses about a dancetroupe he’s discovered.

34 Albums

The first solo album
from Phil Collins displays
a very different side to theGenesis drummer.

36

Black Sabbath

After printing a cutting
review, the fearless MM go on
tour with a slightly angry but

Bob dylan– page 58

undeniably phenomenal
Black Sabbath. Watch out
for the taxi radios!

40News

RIP, Bob Marley.
What is Paul Weller up
to? A catch-up withThe Human League –who are broke but
strangely positive.

&
46AdamThe Ants

A revealing chatabout the past,present and futureplans of thisintelligent, curious
highwayman.

52The Cure

Robert Smithand his band flirt
with the big league,
debuting a spacey new
sound – and Pink
Floyd’s PA system.

58Bob Dylan

Backstage and back at
the hotel with a lean andengaged Bob, who’s up for afree-roaming chat about politics
and faith. “Satan’s working
everywhere,” he confides.

64

Kraftwerk

On tour in Europe with theGerman band. Leader Ralf Hütter
talks widely and engagingly about
the controlling forces behind thescenes of world democracy.

70 Albums

A new releases by The
Birthday Party, a compilationfrom the Rolling Stones and a live
album by Motörhead.

72 Bruce Springsteen

Backstage with Bruce inEurope. Revealed: how the singer
jumped the wall at Gracelands.

79 Letters

Against New Order’sappalling name, and otherpressing issues.

80NewsAn investigation into
the Southall pub riot, and theaftermath of Oi!. Introducing
a new star of funk, Prince.

86 Young Scotland

Meetings with promising
new bands in Scotland: the spiky
Josef K, spirited Fire Engines andlyrical, tender Aztec Camera.

90 Iggy Pop

Iggy’s thoughts on the
Reagan presidency, and the pros
and cons of having sex in the street.

94 Albums

A follow-up album from thePretenders. Also: grand singles
from Soft Cell and The Specials.

96 Wah!

Inside the Wah! camp –a place of strange ideas, mad ego
and the occasional brilliance ofPete Wylie.

4 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

depeche Mode– page 20

100 The Specials

After the success of“Ghost Town”, surely the future
must be bright for the 2-Tone
band. As it turns out, Terry Hall
isn’t quite so sure.

104

Live

A reconfigured Dexys
Midnight Runners present their
Projected Passion Revue.

106 Soft CellIn the tradition of bluff,
sense-talking bands from
Northern art schools (see also:
The Human League), NME
meets this electronic duo.

110

News

The Specials, after
much speculation, finally split.

Introducing Fun Boy Three, andone of the year’s more interesting
pop-art stars, Laurie Anderson.

114The Police“I’m a 30 year-old millionaire”.
On the road with the actuallysurprisingly unchanged Stingand his band .

120

Dead Kennedys

The San Franciscanpunks land in the UK, bringing
with them their own stage invasion
protocol and strong views on
nearly everything.

124 Albums

Joy Division’s Stillcompilation. The Human League
deliver a great album, Dare.

126
MadnessBO

CELL

STARRING

BEMEMBFFNCED>Y
B .0W

Now film stars,
the North London
band do a sterling job
under pressure: being “nutty”
on demand, in Europe.

130 ABC

Martin Fry and band
unveil a band they feel to becapable of nearly anything.

/

MADNESSwith The Beat for an anti-nuclear
protest project.

140 Duran DuranThe Teardrop Explodes, Aztec
Camera and The Fall, caught live.

The
newest pop superstars
face down people stealing theirsocks, fainting teenagers and otherhazards.

136 The Jam

144 Letters

134 Live
Paul Weller and band join forces

Last thoughts on Ian
Curtis and more from the mailbag.

Time Inc. (UK) Ltd, 3rd Floor, Blue Fin Building, 110 Southwark St, London SE1 0SU | Editor John Mulvey, whose favourite song from 1981 is At
Last I Am Free by Robert Wyatt dEputy Editor John Robinson Is Vic There? by Department S art Editor Lora Findlay Bedsitter by Soft Cell
production Editor Mike Johnson Follow The Leaders by Killing Joke art dirEctor Marc Jones In The Air Tonight by Phil Collins dEsignErs
Becky Redman Tainted Love by Soft Cell, Jonathan Sellers Menergy by Patrick Cowley, Marc Southey For Your Eyes Only by Sheena Easton
picturE Editor George Jacobs Labelled With Love by Squeeze covEr photo Ilpo Musto / Rex Features thanks to Helen Spivak
MarkEting Charlotte Treadaway suBscriptions Letitia Barry gEnEraL ManagEr Jo Smalley group Managing dirEctor Paul Cheal
covErs and tExt printEd By Wyndeham Group | www.uncut.co.uk
REx FEaTURES

Tune Inc.

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(lines are open Monday–Friday GMT, 8.30am–5.30pm ex. Bank Holidays). Back issues enquiries: Tel: 01733 688 964. www.mags-uk.com

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 5

1981

JA NUA R Y – M A R CH

u2, DEpEchE MODE,
MarviN gayE, ENO,
tOM waits aND MOrE

Startling arrows of synth
MaNchEstEr
pOlytEchNic
irst, the problem. No excuses, no argument, however carefully
constructed, is going to get round the fact that the name is ugly,
dangerous and highly irresponsible. While the name Joy Division – areference to the prostitution corps in the Nazi concentration camps – wasalso distasteful, it could at least be argued that it implied identification
FEBruary 6
with the victims of oppression.
New Order allows no such let-out clause. To many it will imply identification
with the perpetrators, the guilty. For those unaware, “New Order” is the name
adapted by various Nazi movements, the French “Nouvelle Ordre” being one
example, and while I feel 90 per cent certain that the band have no sympathy with
fascism, that’s no excuse for flirting with its imagery.
The name is ridiculous because, like their former incarnation as Joy Division, they
are a deeply humanistic band, reaffirming and underlining human fears andfrailties. I couldn’t hear many of their lyrics (mostly sung by Bernard Albrecht, now
the central figure on stage) – but could feel their commitment to the soul. Three days
later, their opening piece is still floating around my head – Albrecht stating a forlorn
but dignified theme on melodica while the rest of the band dug in with an intensitythat was overwhelming. I’d been prepared for disappointment, but it was
immediately clear that here was an experience that would be remembered as
something special in months (years, even) to come.
Detailed comparisons are pointless, but suffice to say that New Order reached
the same heights of almost staggering emotional power that made Joy Divisionsuch a unique band. With a new female member alternating between guitar andsynthesizer, they concentrated on building familiarly dark and sombre moods,
but adding and substituting new textures, Steve Morris leaving his drumkit for one
song to inject startling arrows of synth while an automatic rhythm box took over his
usual function.
At times the rhythmic force generated by Peter Hook’s still innovative bass workand Morris’ drums was awesome, and even an audience of the deaf would havesensed the commitment Albrecht applied to his guitar as he flailed the instrument inbursts of apparent anger. A little over half an hour after taking the stage, they finished.
There was no need for encores or pointless repetition. They’d said it. Lynden Barberrex features

F

6 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

MM FEB 14 From the ashes of Joy Division come New Order,
to play a hometown gig in Manchester.

LIVE!

New Order performthe Joy Division song
“Ceremony” – which
they re-recorded andreleased as their firstsingle – live on ITV’s
Celebration 1981 show

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 7

1981“I just started
learning when I
joined the band”:
Bauhaus frontman
Pete Murphy

J a n u a r y – M ar ch
Xxxxx xxxx xxxx
xxx

“A struggle to get heard”
NME FEB 21 A meeting with Bauhaus, whose music, says one critic, is “like going to chapel”.
f the truth don’t fit, embroider it.
A basic rule of promotion is to set up themyth early on and hope the band will
eventually live up to it. The game can be fun
and it’s one especially enjoyed by the postRoxy Music school of former art students
who acknowledge that self-created largerthan-life personae are an essential part ofa lively pop package.
Bauhaus have always suggested thatthey were willing, if not particularly adept
participants. Formed a few years back, atthe beginning of the current resurgence ofinterest in ’20s Germany, their evocatively
chosen name – lifted from this century’s
most influential art school – irrevocably links
them with the period, making it easy forcommentators
to draw
confusedly
expressionist
leanings fromtheir shadowy
live shows.
Vocalist
Peter Murphy’s
melodramatic
onstagedemeanour andtony mottram / gettyI

8 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

bleached face give the impression he wants
to play Max Schreck’s Nosferatu to Dave
Vanian’s Bela Lugosi, and the band’s writhing,cathartic soundtrack does little to dispel it.
Bauhaus’ true face is far removed from
Murphy’s pained mugging, and they go to
great lengths to deny the German connections
when I meet them at bassist David Jay’s
pleasantly suburban Northampton home. The
trouble is that the myth is considerably moreinteresting than the band in real life, likeable
though they are. Jay and drummer brother
Kevin Haskins timidly fend off criticisms andoffer information, while Peter Murphy morespunkily reacts to my suggestions. Fourth
member Danny Ash, guitarist, is absent after
catching an iron filing in his eye.
Admittedly, we haven’t met under the best
circumstances. Haskins and Murphy are still
recovering from the night before, spent at
New Order’s London debut. So am I. We’reall somewhat drowsy, and our attentions
wander, mine with the horse-riders passing
by outside the window, theirs on private
thoughts of their own.
Bauhaus deserve their cult following;
they’ve worked hard to achieve one in a
relatively short time, but they haven’t really
proved themselves capable of reaching

anything higher, though their recent shift
from 4AD records to parent company
Beggars Banquet indicated they’re now
pushing for mass status.
So far they’ve made two very good singles
in their debut “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”, and theterse, cogent “Terror Couple Kills Colonel”,
a failed commercial gambit in their covering“Telegram Sam” and one flop, “Dark Entries”.
A fair track record only marred by the releaseof their debut album In The Flat Field, which
pointed up all the limitations of their approach.
The album talks a lot about emotional edges
without ever actually convincing that theplayers have been there. Murphy’s words get
inextricably tangled in introspective journeys
through the terrors of a Catholic past; butworse, his self-confessed classicist leaningmeans he twists them into needlessly inverted
sentences and forces unnecessary rhymes.
Matched as they are to tortuous hardrock workouts grated over lurchingly
uneven rhythms, it’s arrived at a pomposity
almost equal to that attained by early-’70s
progressive bands, even if from a completely
different direction.
Ex-Bauhaus student Gavin Martin says that
listening to it is like going to chapel. They
appear surprised, but Peter responds gamely.
“Really? Well, I was brought up
a Catholic, so I obviously felt it
was something to write about.
One track, “Stigmata Martyr”,
was about total fixation with
Jesus Christ to the point of
bleeding from the same places
as Christ bled. It seemed likea really strong subject to me.”

helped them breakaway from therestrictive codes of
their mainstream-bandbackgrounds.
Northampton has norecognisable rocktradition, therefore
most of its bands
tend to follow rather
than lead. Bauhaus’ determination has
since served to open doors – there’s acouple of healthy independents settled
in the town now.
However, leaving things to chance today
is more a matter of sloppy indulgence thanbreaking down barriers. It might seemexperimental to the experimenters, but
to more objective outside ears it follows
paths taken before by others – not tomention their mistakes.
Düsseldorf’s Der Plan put it most succinctly
when they stated that experiment was all very
laudable, as long as it resulted in somethingworthwhile – experiment shouldn’t just be
used as an excuse for half-finished songs.
“I don’t agree with that at all,” contests
David Jay evenly, “because experimenting
supplies a spark to the performance. Anyway,
I don’t think it’s possible to arrive at a finishedstate.”To me the album sounds half complete; its
potential remains unfulfilled.
“That’s a personal thing, though, isn’t it?”argues Peter.
Yes, say I.
No use in labouring a point, but Bauhaus
don’t really live up to the spirit of theirnamesakes. Where students of the original
school prided themselves on efficiency andthe ultimate utility value of their product,
Northampton’s Bauhaus are too immersed in
the processes of creation to see objectively
what’s coming out the other end.
Made up of former art school students andan ex-printer (Murphy) who wishes he was one,
Bauhaus are laudably still open to ideas, butthey’ve yet to show they’re capable of using
them. After a brief description of art-school
life from Jay, Murphy rues
his missed chance.
“I applied for art college,
got accepted but then Ichanged my mind, I was
too young, my ideas
weren’t really formed.
And I imagined you had
to have a good idea of what
you wanted to do before
you enrolled.”“It’s the opposite,” points
out Jay. “It opens your ideas to different levels
and ways of thinking.”
Murphy: “Yeah, I just started learning when
I joined the band.”
Jay: “I notice you use the band as a wayof development in the same way that I used
art school…”
Going by their singles, Bauhaus have it inthem to pull off a masterpiece, but at the
moment they’re still stuck at the sketchbook
stage. As it is, hang onto those early sketches– look what happened to Adam And The Ants.

“I was brought up
a Catholic, so I
obviously felt it
was something towrite about”

Chris Bohn

tim hardin
photographedin Amsterdam
in 1974“Personal problems”
NME JAN 3 RIP, songwriter Tim Hardin.

F

olk singer-songwriter Tim
Hardin was found dead in his Los
Angeles apartment on Monday night.
Acting on an anonymous phonecall,the Los Angeles police entered his home,where they discovered his dead body.
Police said there appears to be no
evidence of foul play, which leads
observers to assume that Hardin, 40,
finally fell victim to those “personal
problems” which had plagued him
throughout his career.
Though a product of the early ’60s Boston
folk movement, the intimacy of Hardin’s
intensely emotive style was decidedly bothjazz and blues based. A native of Eugene,
Oregon, Hardin established his credentials
when, on the strength of his appearance atthe 1966 Newport Folk Festival, Verve/
Forecast Records released his debut Tim
Hardin I (Sept ’66) and the follow-up, Tim
Hardin II. Although never a major concert
artist, these two albums established
Hardin as an introspective songwriterwhose material was successfully coveredby other performers.
Hardin’s best-known composition, “If
I Were A Carpenter”, was a hit three times
over. Bobby Darin was first to recognise thesong’s commercial quality, while Johnny
Cash & June Carter and later The Four Tops
afforded it chart status.
Another widely covered Hardin original
was “Reason To Believe”, of which the bestknown interpretation is on Rod Stewart’s
Every Picture Tells A Story. Other Hardin
standards include “Misty Roses”, “Black
Sheep Boy”, “The Lady Came From
Baltimore” and “Hang On To A Dream” –the latter giving the composer his only UK
hit in January 1967.
1974 found Tim Hardin in Britain andsigned to the GM label, which produced
one album, Nine. At the time it was
Hardin’s intention to take up permanent
residency here, where he was optimisticof revitalising both his health andcareer. It was not to be. He moved backto America where he has lived in semiobscurity these past five years,
supporting himself on his royalties
and occasional gigs.
HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 9

gjisbert hanekroot / getty

He continues: “‘…Flat
Field’ itself was likesearching for the spring,searching for a guideline,
some sort of ethic or
moral… it wasn’t reallyreferring to my religious
path in life, just my role…”
It’s not the subject
matter so much as thetreatment. Its angst-filled overtones createa strong aura which doesn’t really bearinvestigating too deeply, I suggest.
Peter looks a little hurt, but remains
reasonable. They all do throughout our
meeting, which isn’t so much exasperating
as humbling. They make me feel like a cadfor suggesting anything’s wrong.
“Eh, yes, when I listen to the album now I do
find it heavy going,” Peter responds. “Veryangsty, very horrible. But we really did go
through that, really, and now we have done,
I can look back on it a little more objectively.
It’s heavy and angry, but I liked it then and I like
it now. It’s just an expression of how we were.”
Where did all that anger come from?
“I don’t know, I really don’t. I think it had
something to do with us being thrown into
this creative whirlpool – this is personally
speaking – and finding it a struggle to getgoing, to get heard.”
Bauhaus music is better appreciated live.
I’ve only seen them once, but it left a strong
impression. Their angst lends itself to Peter
Murphy’s overwrought drama; they highlightit with stark white lights battened to the floor,
thus throwing up heavy shadows of the band
onto the wall. Again the effect is visibly
gothic. No, it’s not, contests Kevin Haskins:“It seemed to us like a no-nonsense thing that
contradicts that whole gothic romance thing.”
Unless you see it in terms of old German
silent movies.
“We hadn’t seen any films like that then,”points out David Jay.
“Anyway the filmmakers arrived at thoseeffects by accident as they were using blackand-white film.”
Rubbish! The sets of The Cabinet Of Dr
Caligari were deliberately
designed to emphasise theeerie shadow effects. They
repeat they hadn’t seen themovie then.
But this statement’s
considerably underminedwhen the hand me a copyof the “Bela Lugosi” 12-inchfeaturing a back cover stillfrom the Caligari movie.
David Jay notices me
glancing at it suspiciously.
“Our guitarist Danny had torn it out ofa book and gave it to us without telling us
where it came from,” he explains timidly. It’s
not much of an excuse, but there’s no reason
to disbelieve him in light of Bauhaus’ wilfully
haphazard approach.
They enjoy leaving things to chance; thus
their writing begins with rehearsal and jams
in the hope that some idea will pop into theirheads. It served them well at the beginning,
not only because their meandering gave birth
to the “Bela Lugosi” single, but also because it

_.

1981

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Robert Wyatt: “I findthe creation of thisvast monoculture
alarming… It flattens
and belittles everything”

k
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“My voice always comes out disappointed”
MM JAN 24 Robert Wyatt explains why heÕs covering Chic. Via Bulgarian poetry and the history of the waltzÉ
utside in the garden, Robert andAlfie’s dog Flossie and my dog Titch
challenge a clump of hollyhocks. Oncethey get together, they become deeply
unknowable, and bucket about with theirears streaming, baying at imaginary postmen
and piddling on each other’s possessions.
According to Robert Wyatt, Flossie is the
ringleader, a poodle of infinite inventiveness,effortlessly recruiting my suggestible hound toher vision. I would not dispute this, since a few
hours with her owner has much the same effectupon me, brain boiling, nose dry, and ears likepennants and all mailmen’s ankles in jeopardy.
A man of ravenous intellect, Robert has
theories the way rectories have mice, and manya Wyatt wig-bubble has found its way into thefield. Five years ago in Holland, Cecil Taylor
buttonholed me to contest Robert’s Theory ofSocial Class & Avant-Garde Staying Power.
“You did the interview with that guy in thewheelchair? I liked what he said about
breathing, but his social ideas were shit. But atleast he has ideas.”
Mel Tormé reacted as
if I had piddled on his
possessions when I laid
The Theory Of The
Limitations Of ScatSinging on him, andspent half-an-hour in
rebuttal, with oo-bladee illustrations. Mostof us have opinions,O

janette beckman / getty

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10 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

few have ideas, but Robert’s prolificity
embarrasses him. One New Year’s Eve
resolution featured incogitance: fat chance.
His latest single, a version of Chic’s “At Last
I Am Free”, was in part a broadside in a debate.
“One of the reasons I wanted to do it was
because of a remark made by a pundit on telly.
Someone asked him what effect discos had,and he said, ‘Well, of course, the black ballad
tradition’s gone down the drain. They’re alltrying to boogie now.’“I thought, ‘THAT JUST ISN’T TRUE!’ Thereis so much black boogie in the front line of thedance thing at the moment – but there’s also as
much as ever of the song and ballad stuff. Thissong is an example of that.”
Humbug and bad ideas will not pass into
the currency unchallenged, and I have an
evergreen memory of Robert crouched over
the radio, teapot suspended in indignation at
the radical chic of a disc jockey. “Rock Against
Sexism? He may as well propose Omelettes
Against Eggism!
“The other reason why
I wanted to do ‘At Last I Am
Free’ is because I like thetune. There’s a nice cycleof chords with a couple ofnice melodic things that
almost inevitably grow outof it. Just water it with a nicebassline or something.
“I’m very bad at words.
I don’t very often listen to

words. I tend to listen to music from the bottom
upwards, rhythm section upwards.
“In this case, I listened to it and thought,‘What on earth is this? The chorus goes,‘Now at last I’m free’ – yes, well, that’s a great
feeling, that’s good – but the verse is a bitter andmiserable let-down. The gist of it is a betrayal,and the chorus is, ‘Hooray, made it!’ I thought,‘COR! – That’s right up my street!’“My voice always comes out disappointed, tosay the least. I’ve got that sort of sound. It’s too
lugubrious to be a hit. Nothing I could do would
ever cheer anybody up, and I don’t even soundfashionably down. So, if I sing ‘At Last I Am Free’
it wouldn’t sound as if I meant it anyway, andthat would suit the sense. I got Frank Roberts todo the piano, and I just did what I liked about it,
and left the rest out.”
After a long period of musical inactivity,
Robert is back recording again with a series offascinating singles for Rough Trade.
“I’ve had a difficult year. Maybe I’m amalcontent, but at least when I wasn’t working
I knew what I was doing. I could handle that. I
can graft all the experiences and thoughts that
I’ve had since I dropped the craft on to what I
remember of the craft. I know lots of things I
didn’t use to know, but they’re not specifically
about how to make better records.
“If anyone told me they’d been doing
something for five years and felt reallydisillusioned and wanted to give it a break andgo off and do something else, I’d say something
like DON’T. Stick to whatever it is you can do,million dollars.’ I’m notblaming Elvis and I’m
not even saying whitemusicians are not equallycreative – I’m just saying
THAT’S the history of it,then look at the rockindustry’s propaganda
for how it sees itself.
Dangerous music!”“I sometimes think South Africa is the only
really honest Western country, because there
everybody says, ‘Right, the blacks’ job here isto provide cheap raw material for our
sophisticated industries.’ America has some
sort of pretence that this isn’t so. I heard a
popular historian on the radio this morning
describing the five great stages of American
popular music, and it went from Al Jolson, Bing
Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley to The
Beatles. Well… come ON, you know! I mean,
those are the stages at which it reached thewhite, respectable, monied American public– when underdog
characteristics became
acceptable. But the real
underdog is still playing
janitors in the movies. It’sgoing on unabated.”
This is one of our longstanding points ofagreement, and wesometimes derive abilious satisfaction fromcomparing the time lag
between black and white cultures – “Disco! Ten
years. New wave! Twenty” – before bunging ona jazz record. This time, however, Robertventures further into the process.
“A very good example of all this – and it
spreads despair because it seems so endlessand historical – is the history of the waltz.
You had the travelling gypsy musicians in
Middle Europe getting all the racist abuse,
the settler’s fear of the nomad coming intothat as well – this unacceptable group doing
this naughty music. In fact, they were living
deeply moral and cautious lives.
“Romany law is fantastically strict in termsof sexual habits and relationships, very, veryÒThe idea thatthese punks werereally gonna blow
the gaffÉ The
pathos of it!Óformal, has to be for theculture to survive.
“Anyway, to theEuropean outsider,they looked loose,outrageous anddangerous to civilisation.
Eventually, a respectable
light composer took up
their waltz, and suddenly
it was all right for nice people to dance to. Does
this give the gypsies respectability?
“Nobody’d heard of the waltz till it was puton the map by respectable people, so thatmoment of triumph of the culture was about
as useful to the gypsies as a lion’s head is in
the trophy room of the hunter. He’s got there,
but… THAT’S the process that we’re dealing
with in rock’n’roll. It’s what happens. Winnertakes all.”“The West happens to represent anamazingly powerful force in terms ofrevolutionising other people’s lives. In theend, it’s quite a relief to be able to say that myposition isn’t a moral one, its aesthetic. That
is to say, I actually LIKE the idea of this great
wealth and variety of ways there are for being
people in the world.
“Even though we pretend the colonial period
is over, we are steamrollering the whole world
into thinking that the ONLY way to be issomething like us. We in the West seem to know
when we NEED to assimilate somebody else’s
culture, and we are able to do that and create
our plural society, and leave people nothing.
“I find the creation of this vast monoculture
alarming. Everybody in the world is trying tomatch up to this great impregnable fortressthat Western civilisation has created with its
vast technological and military back-up, andair of moral and spiritual superiority. It flattens
and belittles everything.
“There’s a great Bulgarian poem called ‘The
Shot That Wounds But Does Not Kill’. It’s about
a decoy duck, a duck that the hunter clips, takes
to the marshes where it cries to its mates whocome down and get shot. I’m not talking about
the West exterminating people or cultures, butallowing them to survive with clipped wings.
Like rock’n’roll.” Brian Case

Serious cancer
deniedMM JAN 24 Bob Marleysaid to be ÒrecoveringÓ.

ob MaRley, Who has had extensive medical treatment
in New York and Germany over the last few months, isreported to be well on the mend and preparing for hismusical comeback.
Continuing reports that Marley was suffering from a serious
cancer were denied by his record company, Island, but it isunderstood that he was seriously ill with the disease, leading to
his move from a New York hospital to the Issels cancer clinic in
Germany, where he was attending officially as an outpatient
recovering from exhaustion.
Island now say that Marley has recovered from his exhaustion,
and will travel to America early to start recording in the second
week of February. He is, according to Island, supervising plans
for an American tour that will follow in May.

B

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 11

gianni ferrari / getty

because you have to grow through whatever itis that you do…”
To say that he has watched the manipulationsof popular culture from his wheelchair implies
the loftiness of the umpire. Nothing could befurther from the truth, for Robert’s irreducible
ideas come by way of gnawing concern, doubt
and guilt to the cuticle, and are invariably
presented without wishing to presume.
“The new English rock bands that took theheadlines in ’78 struck me as a nostalgia
movement for the days when rock was
dangerous music, or seen as a dangerous
music. It has always had the reputation of sobeing, and that’s always been one of theassumptions about it, that you can knock topieces if you try.
“Nevertheless, its part of the self-image of
people in rock that they’re part of the rebel
culture, and the industry loses its bearings
when it’s too obvious that this isn’t the case.
I used to belong to the consensus myth that if
you played iconoclastic music, you were being
iconoclastic. I hadn’t
realised the extent to whichthat just isn’t true.
“The whole cultural set-up
absolutely caters for that,and knows how to absorb it
completely. It’s part of it, it’sno threat to anything – infact, it’s part of how thecultural business keeps
churning. There wassomething charmingly
nostalgic about the idea that these punks were
REALLY gonna do it, REALLY gonna blow thegaff! The pathos of it!
“A lot of the cultural things that I have become
interested in remind me of the title of Mingus’
book, Beneath The Underdog. Very often whenthings reach rock culture and become famous
underdog symbols, they’ve already come up
from the underdog to become acceptable. In
the history of rock’n’roll, this is racist.
“In America you had all this raging, raving
black music right through the ’40s, which was
in fact rock’n’roll – the economy small groups
that came out of the big bands with a tenor at
the front, and a compere-cum-singer and two
rhythm. The history of
rock’n’roll is a historyof Saturday-nightworking men’s clubs
in black America,
and the ’40s is the
rock’n’roll era.
“It wasn’t about
famous people oreccentrics or heartthrobs until it
coincided with astaggering, uncertain,
ailing Hollywood
industry not sure how
its new star shouldlook. It is always taken
for granted as perfectly
acceptable that Sam
Phillips could say, ‘If I
could find a white man
June 30, 1980:
who had the Negro
Marley on stage insound and the Negrobarcelona during
the Uprising Tourfeel, I could make a

1981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

“We built
U2 arounda spark”

U2 – and their
voluble frontman
Bono Vox – explain
their mission, atale of passion
and commitment.
“I don’t know what I
believe ultimately,
but I know it’s goodthat we’re noteasily digested…”— NME FEBRUARY 14 —Bpaul natkin / getty

12 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

ono Vox, aka Paul Hewson, the frontman and driving
force behind U2, is huddled in the back of a small van,wrapped in a fur coat and speaking in low, husky tones.
He’s complaining about the cynicism and elitism of
new rock bands, which is threatening to become justas stupid and stupefying as the industry it claims to bea barrier against – the record business.
“It’s the easiest thing in the world to be cynical; I can see it coming inmyself sometimes and I have to stamp it out. You see it all the time.”
Bono writes fluent, prosaic lyrics and sings them in a strong, resounding
voice. You can hear this combination in great songs like “11 o’Clock TickTock” and “I Will Follow”, two of the most gallant and genuinely
subversive new pop singles released last year. The latter is a whirl ofreverberating guitars and a tale of determination through sorrow takenfrom Boy, U2’s debut album, one of the finest debuts ever released.
During the past year, Bono Vox has come out of Dublin and led U2 on an
exhausting and exhaustive assault on the British concert circuit. The
abandon and enthusiasm with which they thrust themselves into theattack was a logical extension of the “growing ethic” thatsurrounded the band with the imagery of the Boy album and has
been fundamental to its members since they originally got
together some four years ago.
Bono cares for the band passionately, thinks about its role
astutely and will talk long into the night about its beginnings, its
first experiences and how all of this is going to affect their aims andplans: “I distrust anything that’s obvious, like someone saying,‘Let’s be original.’ So they hang bananas out of their ears or start
using a xylophone. There’s a million bands being original andplaying concerts in caves. I think that’s great, but change can comefrom something far more subtle.
“It’s hard to explain, but, well, we’re all human beings and we alllook different – you look different from me, but you don’t have tohave a nose out to here to look different. Y’know what I mean?”He draws his hand back from a point in midair and waits for mynod before continuing. He has a habit of illustrating his sentencesin this way and his conversation is animated with lively metaphors.
“So U2 play with bass, drums and guitars on stages and onrecords which go on radios, like anyone else involved in the music ÈApril 12, 1981:
Bono fronts U2
at Park West in
Chicago during
the Boy TourHISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 131981

J a n u a r y – M a r chbusiness. I see no real reason to say we’re something else, so we’re going toplay on a chandelier tonight and that makes us different. It doesn’t mean
you’re different; it means you’re trying to be different.”and I’d lost my voice. We were a shambles. But after that gig we had record
contracts offered to us.
“I knew we had something. I knew the effect we had over the audience
compared to the other bands, with their tight music and their pompous
playing. We made use of the fact that we were slightly fragile, and when werecorded our early demos in a four-track studio we couldn’t get a big soundout of it, so we had to work on the fragile sound. Now that we are in bigger
studios and we’ve got more experience, we’re plumping for the bigger
sound, but the important thing is we always worked around the spark.
“Whatever we were good at we worked around, not trying to be likeanyone else, just looking for what was best in ourselves.
“Adam used to pretend he could play bass. He came round and started
using words like action and fret and he had us baffled. He had the only
amplifier, so we never argued with him. We thought this guy must be
a musician, he knows what he’s talking about. And then one day wediscovered he wasn’t playing the right notes, that’s what’s wrong, y’know?
“We were stumbling in the dark, but with the spark and fanning it,
finding that the emotion we were generating was affecting people. I cancry when I’m singing, literally. I can get very, very into it.”e’re travelling from Glasgow’s Strathclyde
University to a small, ancient hotel in the city centre. U2
have just played one of those rare performances where theaudience moves in empathy with the performer, gradually becoming
infatuated with the sways and currents running through the music.
The songs are like a series of emotional landslides – shifting fromdoubt to hope and from loss to discovery, rising to a peak with “11O’Clock Tick Tock” – a dazzling if, by that stage, draining realisation.
Inside, the audience proves to be young and demanding, creating thesort of atmosphere that the group revel in. Enjoyment and acceptancecomes as a natural rather than a ritualistic process and, somewhere near
the end, Bono thanks them for coming to see U2, not the image createdby the music press. As he explains later, this wasn’t a jibe, but merely
an acknowledgement of the honesty created between the audienceand the performer.
“I don’t feel we’ve been hyped by the music press, because I happen toagree with the good things that they say about U2. The music press
2 formed at the same time as the Radiators From Space andrelationship with U2 has meant that people have come along expecting a
The Boomtown Rats. Unrecognised and ignored in those
lot and they’ve got a lot, sometimes maybe too much. It is a pressure.
early days, there is something satisfactory and inevitable“But if people come along expecting the world from U2, then they’re
about them having reached a position where they can now produce
gonna get it. I’m not scared we won’t be able to give it to them.”music much more original, imaginative and durable than those otherWe’re seated in a tacky lounge bar, myself, Bono and guitarist The Edge.
two. The irony is that U2 knew nothing about rock, rock culture or what
As Bono reels off the details of his early youth I have some trouble
was looming around the corner.
equating the brash extrovert and charismatic performer beside me with
“I remember thinking the first day we went into rehearsal that a
the maverick youth who grew up alienated and confused in Dublin
movement was going to emerge that would be a breakdown between theduring the ’70s.
flower power and the boot boy. I didn’t really know what I was saying,“The Virgin Prunes and U2 both came out of a place called ‘Lipton
because it turned out to be punk rock.”
Village’. It’s an imaginary place, something we developed in our
We’re joined at our rickety little table by Adam Clayton, the group’s
imaginations to give us an alternative lifestyle as kids.
bespectacled bass player with a seemingly misplaced shock of curly“We grew up studying people on street corners; we laughed at the way
blond thatch hanging down onto his forehead. He’s the cigar-smoking,they talked and at the expressions they made. We mocked the adult world
brandy-drinking sophisticate of the group, with a certain Englishness
and agreed we’d never grow up, because all we saw was silliness.
to his manner and voice. He articulates what is perhaps the main
“I remember watching Top Of The Pops and seeing this group called
motivation that drives U2.
Middle Of The Road singing ‘Chirpy Chirpy“It’s very much a complete thing. It wasn’t sort of, ‘Lets
Cheep Cheep’. I must have been about 11 atform a band and let’s write great songs.’ It was more to enjoy
the time, and I thought, ‘Wow! This is what
pop music is all about. You just sing like thatand you get paid for it.’”
Drifting through his teenage years,
Bono shunned the pubs frequented by his
friends, remained largely unaffected bymusic and became, of all things, a keen,
expert chess player.
“I found I was being pressured into
organising my thoughts, and I wanted to
be able to do that because I have a very
competitive instinct. But I was going
through a very problematic time; my motherhad just died and I couldn’t stand an
educational system where IQ tests and value were based on
being good at a very limited number of subjects.
“I couldn’t put in the work because I was too erratic as apersona, and so I found a game like chess suited me because
I was able to put everything from my mind and work withsomething abstract.”
When Bono found himself back in school after being
chucked out of university for not having his native Gaelic
language, he became close friends with Adam Clayton, Larry
and Dave (The Edge). They formed U2 and Bono discovered
a way he could express his methods and thoughts.
“Our first concert was one of the greatest we ever played
and it was two years before we played another one like it. I
believe we built U2 around a spark; you’ve got to remember
at that stage there was still the tradition of the musician,there was still the tradition of Ritchie Blackmore.
“We couldn’t compete on that level and yet in 1978 weJune 8, 1981: The
played this Guinness and Harp talent contest with all these
Edge, Bono and (right)
Adam Clayton at the
professional bands and heavy rock bands. We came down
Pinkpop Festival inand played after doing this thing called Paddy’s Punk Party
Geleen, NetherlandsW

rob verhorst / gettyU

14 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

the whole experience of being a band of four people with the one cause;
a cause you could develop and become emotionally involved in. It wasmuch more the whole experience and it still is. Bands are very secular
unto themselves. It’s like an extension of a school gang.”
They struggled through the cloistered Dublin scene as best they could,
without becoming bogged down in the inevitable bitchiness and pettymindedness which surfaces in closely knit, inadequate provincial
scenes. U2 left Ireland after a one-off deal with CBS enabled them torelease the Irish chart-topper “Out Of Control” (an alternative version
was later to surface on Boy).
Their movement into the music industry wasn’t naively hopeful. On asmall scale in Dublin they’d already experienced the strain that businessand financial matters can put on a band. On the evening they left Ireland,
their publisher withdrew half the advance that had been promised tothem. So U2 arrived in England unsure if they’d be able to last the whole
tour and tempted to accept the first record contract that came their way.
But they held out and finally got the deal they wanted with Island. Boy– a collection of the best songs in the group’s 40-song repertoire – wasreleased seven months later. Immediately they were accused ofwhimsicality, and pandering to adolescent sexuality (the Boy sleeve isa photo of a young boy with naked shoulders!).
Such criticism undermines and misinterprets
the album’s value: it’s a voyage fromadolescence (which, after all, is the stage when
Larry, Adam, Dave and Bono formed U2), into
manhood, and the rich imagery presents atussle between wonder, awareness, strengthand acceptance. Boy is the group’s personality,
produced by the chemical interaction between
their characters and their musical styles.
“A band should have a personality of its own,”says Bono, “and if a band’s personality isdominated too much by one person then it’s
bad for the band. On another level, a band likeSpandau Ballet is totally direct and pointed.
That’s so boring, because you see it all in one
go – clothes, fashion, hair and that’s it. There’s
nothing to discover, no mystique, no charm and no personality.”
The difference between U2’s personality and that of most other rockbands is that it is natural. They reflect on and revise orthodox rock
techniques and presentation but totally relinquish its hopeless,heartless mythology. Their own motives and desires always shine
through, purposeful and resilient. As Bono explains, this isn’t always totheir advantage.
“Our biggest problem getting to a bigger audience is that we don’t looka certain way, we don’t fit into a little box. We’re not a ska group or
something easy to digest. But the fact that we’re not easy to digest means
we’re a lump in the throat, and a lump in the throat has far more guts to it.
I believe ultimately… I don’t know what I believe ultimately, but I know
it’s good that we’re not easily digested.”

one can’t help but beconcerned when Bonowears leather trousers
and The Edge engages inguitar talk with Stuart
Adamson in Edinburgh thefollowing night.
U2’s music has taken
shape, coaxed though notinspired by the Pistols,
mingling the sense of space and drama brought to rock structures by
Joy Division, crystallising its essence – a determined sense of soulsearching – alongside Dexys Midnight Runners. Unlike the rest of thosebands, U2 have lasted and remain hungry, vigilant and ebullient. They’reraring to go, to tackle the idiocy and dogma that makes rock a routine
more than a means of expression.
“I wouldn’t say that we’re bitter about rock’n’roll; we didn’t enter thisin a naive way. There are a lot of untruths in rock’n’roll; the word itself
conjures up certain standards to conform to and certain morals. But it’s all
superfluous imagery, it doesn’t actually exist. Girls don’t run around trying
to rape people; you can’t get drunk every night and do loads of drugs.”
Bono rightly believes that the flimsy situation
which McLaren used to try and break open rockmusic with the Pistols has turned sour, but it can
now be transformed into something much morereal, something much more positive.
“There’s a lot of Johnny Rotten’s bastard
children running in the streets. They’ve beensold into bondage and it frightens me to see
them, because they’ve been sold an image ofviolence and they’ve turned it into the realityof violence.”
The Edge, who’s usually happy to let Bono do
the explaining, is so exasperated, he interrupts.
“It’s incredible to see the followers of a band
like Discharge are mostly 13 or 14. They’ve
obviously never questioned the idea behind
what they celebrate but just look on it as an image and wear it as a badge.
Like you would support Chelsea or wear a Bay City Rollers scarf.
“The basic feel I got from ’76 was of loud electric guitars, of singers witha song who sung with everything they had and sweated a lot and theaudience also sweated a lot. The two became very close because you got
a buzz in your spine – you felt that whatever he was singing about, hemeant it. I believe in what I sing and we play our hardest on stage. I thinkit’s quite a simple thing, but I believe that in itself is an embodiment ofwhat ’76 was all about.”“We’re a longterm project– we’re only
getting used toour tools”

catch U2 at a very interesting stage in their development,
certainly the peak of their career so far. It’s a crucial period forthem as they have to grow up now and present the new face of U2
as it’s developed over the past 18 months. Bono describes how he sees
this taking shape.
“We’re a long-term project; we’re only getting used to our tools, working
with people and the learning we’ve undergone. I see the next album as
being about battle, because I don’t see life as being an easy road. I thinkit’s a battle on many different levels, to express yourself, to keep your head
above the waves when problems and trouble come. I think it’s a battle notto conform to the music business when you’re 19.
“Boy was a retrospective of U2 over two years – the end of ouradolescence. But now we’ve been to the ends of the Earth, we’ve been
throughout Europe and America, and we’ve seen that all cities are thesame when you eventually get down to their heart and soul.
“We’ve seen and learned a lot – it could either leave us cynical or witha determination and spirit not to fall or go under.”The pitfall that U2 must avoid – and something that they’ve been guilty
of in the past – is to mistake pure musical clout for substance and vigour.
Bono will admit that previously they have tried too hard, trying to throw
themselves right into the audience’s heart but succeeding only in flying
off the handle. Now they seem to have found the right balance, althoughIt’s already been reported that U2 are all good Catholic Irish
boys who don’t smoke, drink or swear. Untrue! Two of them areProtestants and all (except Larry) imbibe alcohol during my stay,and profanities are muttered. Bono is nonetheless a deeply committed
Christian, although he doesn’t go to church – “I think the Church is a
big problem” – and feels that Christianity is grossly misinterpreted.
“It’s not all of our beliefs and not everyone in the band believes in thesame way. There are things I just don’t want to talk about. I’ll talk about
them in music; the way I feel about things comes out on stage. There arethings that don’t go well coming indirectly from other people.”
It seemed relevant to ask what effect U2 wanted to have on the audience.
“Washed, I think, is a good word. It’s like you go along to a film where yougo through the emotions, you’re brought up, you’re brought down, andyou feel a sort of relief afterwards.
“If you look at what Adam And The Ants are trying to express, by using
escapology rather than realism, it’s dignity. He’s using the imagery of awarrior to achieve it, but you might as well go to a drive-in-movie.
“I think people should have dignity in themselves. They’re not numbers,
but they’re being bombarded by the TV and they feel very insecure inthemselves and in looking in the mirror. If our music means anything onthat level, it’s a celebration of just being me, of just being you.”
U2 have in their stride a new way of looking at the ideals of rock music
and a different way of using it. They’re surging forward with one of themost strong-minded and radical sounds I’ve ever heard.
Wherever Bono Vox has chosen to put his heart and soul, there can be no
doubt that, for the time being, it couldn’t be in a better place. Gavin Martin •I

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 151981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

“My motherlikes what
I do”
TOM WAITS stops in London, to talkfilm roles, support gigs, strange
fish and songwriting. “I’ve always
bitten off more than I can chew,
just so’s I can see how much it
takes to break my back,” he says.

— MELODY MAKER MARCH 14 —he first thing you notice are the hands.
Like two spiders weaving a web, as if trying
to scratch his words in the air. then there’s
the voice, softer than i imagined, but still
the nearest thing imaginable to a sumo
wrestler’s jockstrap that talks.
if – as his detractors insist – tom Waits is simply
perpetrating an image, than it’s a full-time job. he cameinto the coffee shop with what seemed like a vampire’s
distrust of daylight, particularly thesleazy saturday matinee the grey
sky was mounting.
Painfully thin, skeletal hands, a
voice like a hangover, Waits coiled
himself on the seat opposite, like he
OOWNfOWNt�
was trying to escape from the bodyhe’s been saddled with. saturday
midday in Kensington is not the best
time to meet tom Waits, courteous
as he was. no, it should have been
midnight in a scuzzy soho bar, witha saxophonist only Brian Casewould have heard of, spinning out
notes into the cigarette smoke
clustering round the dim lights. »TLout U1ait5

david corio / gettyout

16 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

Heartattack
And Vine

Jersey GirlMarch 20, 1981:
Tom Waits onstage at theVictoria Apolloin London

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 171981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

Tom Waits in
London: tempering
his romantic streakwith a gritty reality

The last Tom Waits album, Heartattack And
Vine, contains a song – one of his finest – called“On The Nickel”, a lingering drunkard’s lullaby.
“The Nickel”, according to Waits, is the Los
Angeles equivalent of New York’s Bowery; thesort of place where the dreams ain’t broken,
they’re just walking with a limp; where thewinos and bums congregate. It’s the skids,
the living end. Now that’s the sort of place
Tom feels at home.
Waits has been rehearsing until 3am in the
East End with his band. The idea of simply astand-up bass accompanying Waits and his
piano had been ditched, and he was coping withjet lag, Silk Cut and daylight when we met.
I’ve been a fan of the man since I saw him deliver a haunting “TomTraubert’s Blues” on an otherwise forgettable Whistle Test some four
years ago. That song remains my favourite of his, with its stark, city
imagery, and the epitome of urban desolation – “Where everything’s
broken, and no one speaks English”.
Much as he baulks at the description of “poet” (“When someone says
they’re going to read me a poem, I can think of any number of things I’drather be doing”), Tom Waits undoubtedly has a poet’s acute eye forimagery. To balance his vivid, serious songs, he’s capable of mustering anarray of one-liners that would leave mostcomedians open-mouthed.
While not claiming that every song on eachof his seven albums has been indispensable,
I would say that his track record has been more
impressive than most. His first album in 1973,
Closing Time, surprises people hearing it now,
because of Waits’ voice; he can actually sing
– hold notes, change pitch, and all the othertechnical stuff. The album also contains oneof his best-known songs, “Ol’ 55”, which wasmemorably covered by Iain Matthews, and not
so memorably by the Eagles. “The only goodthing I can think of saying about an Eagles
album,” Waits has remarked, “is that it keeps thedust off your turntable.” Subsequent albums
like The Heart Of Saturday Night, Small Change,
and Blue Valentine have confirmed him as
America’s leading street poet, with a staunchcult following he has no real wish to expand.
After killing time with the cappuccinos, we
agreed on a visit to St Catherine’s Dock to giveTom an opportunity to get a glimpse of London
colour and talk. Tricky, but then so is nursing ahangover you’ve been on nodding terms withall week, but I managed. While sitting in an
Earl’s Court traffic jam, Waits spoke of his
suspicion about President Reagan, and theother side of “the American dream” coin.
It came as no surprise that he distrusted thewhole Time magazine cover and “Good job/
Money/Success” equation. His songs have,on the whole, concentrated on the victims ofa society where “Success” is the only standard
tolerated; and his sympathies obviously lay
with those who have tried, and failed. He isa romantic writer, but his romantic streak istempered with a gritty reality that not even
Springsteen manages.
Waits seemed fascinated by the ritual of theforthcoming royal wedding – “She still a virgin?
There gonna be a celebration of the royalscrewing on their honeymoon?” Boot [Adrian
Boot, photographer] and I thought a 21-gun
salute on their first night of nuptial bliss may bein order. The Imperial War Museum waspointed out as the site of Bedlam, where thearistocrats used to come and pay their sixpences
to see the loonies. “This part of town called
Bedlam?” queried Waits. Well no, Lambeth,actually Tom. “Oh, last time I was here, on theway out to the airport I saw a sign that said
‘Bedlam Steel’.” Well, that would be of interest tohim, as at one time Waits claimed to rent anapartment on the corner of Chaos and Bedlam.
The Tower of London caused a raised eyebrow.
I told him the story of the ravens in the Tower.
England would fall if they departed, it is said,
which is why the ravens’ wings were clipped in
1940. “Mm, superstitious people,” growled
Waits, who was fascinated by the proximity of
Spitalfields, said to be the home of Jack The
Ripper. We digressed onto mass murderers,
until the subject of Bruce Springsteen came up.
“Nice guy,” said Waits, then remembered that his own London dates
clashed with Springsteen’s at Wembley. “Sure hope that mine don’t
detract from his ticket sales,” he laughed. Well, “laughed” is stretching it;
more like two strips of sandpaper rubbed together.

david corio / getty“I write 20
songs and put
12 on a record.
The process is
excruciating”

18 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981e made The Charles Dickens without further mishap, andproceeded up to the restaurant. Fish was the order of theday, all sorts of fish – the place was swimming in them. The
traditional English virtues of the pub and the docks were pointed outWtom waits

to Waits, only somewhat belied by the high percentage of Filipino
waitresses. He scoured the menu like it was his last will and testament,
inordinately suspicious of any fish with bones in. Thorny problem that– swimming fish are quite attached to their bones; but all was resolved
when the waitress promised to fillet some sole. “Knew a teacher once,”commented Waits. “Choked to death on a fish bone.”A dish named John Dory attracted his attention. Now, as it happens, myknowledge of fish is pretty scant, once they’re outside newspaper, but I did
know that John Dory fish are famous for their markings. The legend goesthat when Jesus was preaching in Galilee, he took a fish and cooked it forthe disciples, and that every John Dory now bears the mark of the hands of
the Son Of God! “Mm,” muttered Waits, “So ‘John Dory’ grilled in lemonsauce… you reckon it was ‘grilled’ by the Son Of God?” Dunno ’bout that,
Tom, but He was renowned for his versatility.
The conversation moved to marriage. Waits’
bride of seven months was over with him,taking time off from her job at 20th Century
Fox. She originally wanted to be a nun, butabandoned this when she married Waits. “You
could say I’ve saved her from the Lord.” Thewedding ceremony was not without incident.
Waits found the Marriage Chapel in the Yellow
Pages, right next to “Massage”: “The registrar’sname was Watermelon, and he kept calling me
Mr Watts… My mother likes what I do, I guess
she’s happier now that I’m married. I think she
was a little bit worried about me for a while.”
The project which has been occupying Waits
since April 1980 is the soundtrack for the new
Francis Ford Coppola film One From The Heart, which Waits called “themost rewarding experience I’ve had since I started working”.
Originally intended as a bit of light relief after the fiscal and emotional
complexities of Apocalypse Now, the film, Coppola and his ZoetropeStudios are in trouble again. The profits from The Godfather films havebeen swallowed, but Waits is fascinated by the man. “He’s always
changing his mind when he gets inside a film, then he eats his way out…
He’s a creative maverick who is distrusted by all the cigar-smoking moguls.
“He keeps morale up. Like Orson Welles said, a movie studio is the best
train set you could ever want. Coppola keeps a child’s wonder at the wholeprocess, even after a business meeting.”
Waits became involved in the Heart project after Coppola heard his“I Never Talk To Strangers” from the Foreign Affairs album, on which
Waits duetted with Bette Midler. Originally she was going to work withhim on the soundtrack, but because of her commitments Waits foundhimself in the unlikely company of Crystal Gale.
The film is due for release in the States on July 4, and the soundtrack willbe the next Tom Waits album. Were there any problems, I wondered,working on a film soundtrack as opposed to his own solo work?
“In the sense that I’m writing for someone else’s approval, yeah. But
there are specific musical cues. I started with a lot of titles, and wrote
about 12 different scenes, to be used wherever he wanted them, thenI strung them together, like an overture for a musical. What he wanted
was like a glass of music, that you can add in and take from.”
A subject close to Waits’ heart was Coppola’s proposed film of Jack
Kerouac’s classic On The Road, which has been temporarily shelved.
One name being touted as director was Jean Luc Godard, with Coppola
producing for Zoetrope. What about future albums, then, Tom?
“After the soundtrack, I’m thinking of putting out an album called ‘My
Favourites’.” Oh, you mean you’re singing your favourite songs? “Nah, I’m
just gonna take 12 songs by other artists and put them on a record, stuff
like ‘Lady Of Spain’, ‘Tutti Frutti’ and ‘Rudy My Dear’, and a picture of meon the cover listening to them.”
He did say he’d be going into the studio in the late summer to record a
new Tom Waits album, but he does find writing difficult.
“I was a very undisciplined writer until I began to work with Francis…
the seasons, when you’re recording for a major company, aren’t
necessarily the same seasons which coincide with your own creative
development. It’s all a matter of dangerous choices, where to take it,
whether to keep it, whether to abandon it.
“I write maybe 20 songs and put 12 on a record. The process is
excruciating, it’s hard work, but I like it when it’s finished.”
There was a long delay between Blue Valentine and Heartattack And
Vine, when Waits appeared in Sylvester Stallone’s Paradise Alley, wasworking on a book with artist Guy Peellaert (which has since been
shelved), and an opera about a used car lot.
He has managed to finish a screenplay for the latter, in collusion withPaul Hampton, who used to be at Famous Music in New York with Burt
Bacharach, and hopes that Zoetrope will be interested.
“I just got totally disenchanted with the music business. I moved to New
York and was seriously considering other possible career alternatives…
The whole modus operandi” – he made it sound like a particularly
militant branch of the Cosa Nostra – “of sitting down and writing, andmaking an album, going out on the road with a band. Away for threemonths, come back with high blood pressure, a drinking problem,
tuberculosis, a warped sense of humour. It just became predictable.”
Early days for Tom Waits included a lot of support dates with incongruous
acts. I wondered if there was any particular date
which stood out from those days?
“I opened a show once for a guy called Buffalo
Bob and the Howdy Doody revue. He was likean American children’s programme host,went out on a tour of colleges, and I’d have todo, like, three matinees for the children andtheir mothers. He used to call me ‘Tommy’; I
wanted to strangle the sonofabitch… I hoped
he’d die of bone cancer the entire week!”
Was there a particular album of his that he
was really satisfied with?
“Not albums, but songs, individual songs.
People think that you do most of your growth
before you begin to record. It’s the downbeat,the drum roll, the fanfare, and boom! You’rebaptised! For me, it happened during the whole thing, so I felt I’d snuck inthe back way. I had a songwriting contract; I’m sitting at a bus stop on
Santa Monica Boulevard, it’s pouring with rain, and I’m scared to death.
I’m making three hundred dollars a month, and I didn’t feel qualified. I’ve
always taken on more than I can handle, bitten off more than I can chew,
just so’s I can see how much it takes to break my back.
“Keeping your anonymity is important as a writer, so that you can go
anywhere, any part of town, sit in a corner. Anytime you’re swimmingaround in the American public, ‘Well people just get uglier, and I have nosense of time’, you know?”
He did get recognised in Ireland, though, after a TV appearance, andrecently completed the US chat show circuit: “It’s the furthest thing froma rogue’s gallery. They’re just like fixtures; you get on and talk aboutcooking, about how hard it is to get a cab in the rain… The Devil’s
Dictionary described ‘famous’ as ‘conspicuously miserable’.”“People think
you do most of
your growth
before you
begin to record”

or someone who claims to have slept through the ’60s, andfor whom the ’70s mainly meant “living in a hotel for 10 years”,
the ’50s still provide the most fascination. “It gave us Joe
McCarthy, the Korean War and Chuck Berry!” And Kerouac, that“strange, solitary, crazy Catholic mystic”, who inspired a generation ofAmericans to go off on the road, to break away from the limitations of
the American Dream while pursuing their own. Waits’ debt to Kerouac
has been well documented.
“My own background was very middle-class – I was desperately keen to
get away. My parents were divorced when I was 10 years old, my father’s
been married about three times, and my mother finally remarried a
private investigator. I was at home with these three women, my motherand two sisters, and although they were there, I was on my own a lot…
“I loved Kerouac since I first discovered him. I discovered him at the time
I could have ended up at Lockheed Aircraft, a jewellery store or a gas station,
married with three children, lying on the beach… A lot of Americans went
off on the road, just get into a car and drive, for 3,000 miles, East or West.”
With a handshake and a growl, Waits disappeared into a tiny lift thatlooked like a cell on Death Row. He’s an acquired taste, but a taste worth
acquiring. Try to judge for yourselves when he comes over again at theend of the month.
I was only sorry I hadn’t a chance to tell him about my efforts at trying toemulate Dylan and Ginsberg and stand by Jack Kerouac’s grave in Lowell,
Massachusetts, armed with my Penguin Modern Classics copy of On The
Road. A friend and I spent most of one Saturday afternoon trying to findthe grave, but conspicuously failed to do so, until in exasperation one ofus cried, ‘Why can’t they bury them in alphabetical order?’”I think Tom Waits might have liked that. Patrick Humphries •F

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 191981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

“We don’t
pretendor
anything”
A new band from Basildon, DEPECHE MODE, have plenty oftunes, but no guile whatever. Under the wing of Mute’s
Daniel Miller, they explain their MO. “The beat is very
important. As long as people can dance to it, it’s all right.”— NME MARCH 21 —ute maestro Daniel Miller has a notoriously sweet tooth – one that’sbalanced by a taste for bitter extremes. The opposite poles of the spectrum
are reflected on his label by Non’s noise at the one end and the insipidly
saccharine Silicon Teens at the other. No surprise, then, that he has helped
produce the fluffiest meringue of the moment in Depeche Mode’s “Dreaming
Of Me”.
“Dreaming” is one of those instant-airplay records that are more a matter of intuition thancontrivance – like OMD’s debut “Electricity”. An infectious synth melody should guarantee it
playlisting, but it’s the earnest, clutching teen vocal that elevates it.
Ironically, writer Vince Clarke is the only one of the quartet who’s no longer a teen. He is – ulp! – 21.
“Twenty,” he lies gracelessly when the others reveal their ages during a short
confrontation in a backroom at Rough Trade.
Owing to their extremely shy natures, the four have chosen to be chaperonedby producer Miller, whom they refer to as Uncle Daniel. Only nine months
into a fruitful career, they haven’t done many interviews and generally support
the picture of a guileless but adventurous pop group that one might glean fromthe single.
Depeche Mode come from Basildon (Sentence Of The Week – Ed). They arebass synth player Andrew Fletcher, an insurance man; David Gahan, lead
vocalist, electronic percussionist and trainee window dresser; the silent
Martin Gore, synthesist and banker; and Vincent Clarke, writer, synthesist
and otherwise unemployed.
Their decision to switch from the more conventional guitar trio to an allelectronic lineup was obviously influenced by the attractive pop of The »creditM
20 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

June 17, 1981: Depeche
Mode outside Blackwing
Studios, South-East
London, where they arerecording debut album
Speak & Spell – (l–r) Vince
Clark, Martin Gore, Andy
Fletcher and Dave GahanY-- ?.•_

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HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 211981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

Normal and OMD. They recruited David, bought
synths on HP – “Costs £25 a month,” reveals
Andrew. But why the switch?
“We didn’t get into them just for the fashion,”
insists David. “It just happened that way. A few
of our friends were into them and we just liked
the sounds.”“And the sounds come easier than with theguitars,” admits Andrew.
Meanwhile, the escalation of interest in electronic dance music meantthat hometown and nearby discos like Rayleigh Crocs were giving overtheir busiest nights to Le Beau Monde, mixing soul with the pop of
Numan, Human League, Normal, Ultravox, Visage, etc.
“It’s strange,” reveals Vincent, “that the kids who went to soul clubs are
now moving over to this; we’re playing an old soul club in Dartford soon
which Rusty Egan’s opening as…”
“It’s just that electronic pop is commercially viable now, whereas two
years ago it wasn’t,” interrupts Andrew. Yeah, even Human League havegot a hit now after three years of trying. And a hustling DJ like Stevo
manages to convince Phonogram of the viability of an electronic pop
compilation, the misnamed Some Bizarre Album.
Probably more attracted by the electronic lineup than the “normal”
pop Depeche Mode make, Stevo flattered them into contributing“Photographic” – great tune, shame about the words – to the record.
“We met Stevo at Crocs and he asked us to do a track for the album,”recalls Vincent. “At the time we had no record company contract and wewere kind of interested in this sort of thing, so we did it. We kind of regret it
now because of the ‘futurist’ connotations.”“And we don’t like to be tagged,” adds David.
“What is really looking forward is what’s goingon at Cabaret Futura – not Classix Nouveaux or
us really.”
Martin: “Our music doesn’t really look into the
future or say anything about the future.”
Apart from the subject matter of“Photographic”, I’d agree, though the title“Dreaming Of Me” and the band’s predilection
for dressing colourfully might wrongfully linkthem with Le Beau Monde. There appears to bea tendency towards narcissism (“What doesthat mean?” they all chorus, nonplussed), but
that’s countered by their guileless enthusiasm.
What’ll they do when theinnocence is gone?
“Grow into something else,
I suppose. I dunno,” puzzles
Vincent. They haven’t
contrived any particular
image for themselves, headds. “If people draw any
conclusion from the lyrics
it’s up to them. We don’t set
out to portray any particular
image of innocence; wedon’t pretend or anything.”
Innocence isn’t somethingthat can be convincingly
manufactured – as The
Human League’s very
belated breakthroughconfirms – and if you need
proof of that check the wholly
natural “Dreaming Of Me”.
It’s obviously a hit – though
one wonders if it being on the
independent Mute will
hamper its progress.
“All I can say is that we’remaking every sort of legal
effort to make it a hit,” states
Daniel Miller. “We have hadsome experience with The
Silicon Teens in terms ofmarketing and how best to approach it. I think
we’re at a stage now where we can make a reallyconcerted effort – hopefully doing the right things
at the right time.
“In a way it’s sort of a test case. Everybody here
[at Rough Trade, Mute’s distributors], from
distribution through to the promotion side ofthings [RT do more promotion these days and an
independent radio “plugger” is hired], has learnt
a lot in the past few years, and that’ll hopefully benefit this record.
“It would be nice for it to reach its natural level – be it No 1 or at 74…”
The problem is that “natural levels” of most chart singles areunnaturally stimulated by the sort of gimmicks and incentives for DJs
and radio producers that independents can neither afford nor wantanything to do with. But that’s another story… Chris Bohn

G

— MELODY MAKER MAY 9 —od what a year it’s been. Not half over yet and every week
they’re coming – great new bands bragging, bruising, begging
for attention. It’s getting so I can’t tell me Scars from me
Spandaus, but listen to this and listen good.
Depeche Mode, far from being yet another seven-day wonder, are damnnear the most perfect pop group these two lug’oles have sampled allseason. A couple of cracking tracks – one a narcissistic boppin’ beauty ofa single called “Dreaming Of Me” that nudged the charts; the other amoody, melodic pseudo-mechanical outing on the Some Bizarre Album
aptly titled “Photographic” – were enough to putme on the scent.
Several scorching live dates confirmed it. Thisband has a set full of knowing but naive, intense
and yet idiotically simple two-minute gems,
that stand quiff and earrings above the evergrowing pile of synthi-pop fad followers. Sussenough to play by the rules, but brilliant enoughto break ’em.
Take my advice – name-drop them like crazy,turn on your radio and wait. Watch them storm
up the charts, sit back and feel smug as yourfriends all scramble to follow your lead. Be thefirst on your block to sport a DM T-shirt andallow yourself a snicker as hoards of nouveau
new romantics and grubby
electronic garage bands put
down their icy frowns and bid to
get the drop of Mode magic.
They’ll be lucky – I had trouble.
Prior to partaking in theMute Night Silent Nightextravaganza at the Lyceum
Ballroom, huffing and puffedfrom endless games of tag andrun-outs, bloated by a batch ofgreasy McDonald’s, slightly
upset by a skimpy soundcheckand surrounded by a gaggle ofgiggling girlfriends, the four
Mode music makers crammed
into the support-band dressing
room and effortlessly enhanced
their reputation as an“awkward” interview.
It’s not that they’re standoffish– they blush and bluster their
way through my clumsy
enquiries with an admirably
artless evasion, never oncesuggesting the smug smokescreen that Spandau build
around discussions. It’s norehearsed conspiracy – they justfeel they have little to say otherthan what their music offers.

david corio / getty“There isn’t
a futurist
scene really, isthere? It’s only
a name”

22 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

An example: halfway through the proceeding I realise lead synther
Martin Gore has remained stony silent throughout. I ask why andbeanpole, carrot-quiffed bass synth player Andrew Fletcher tells me hehas strong views on music.
“Have you?” I ask.
He shrugs.
I persevere: Why don’t you ask him a question, Andy?
“OK. Have you got your lurex pants on?”“No.”
Quickly, quickly. Back to basics. Depeche Mode were formed “nineor 10 months ago” as a three-piece, two-guitar-and-synth outfit, whoaccording to songwriter, rhythm synth player, old man at 21 and chief
spokesperson Vince Clarke, “just about played live, but under a different
name. We won’t go into that now.”“Oh go on, be a devil,” I urge.
“No,” he replies.
The next step was to audition a vocalist – enter snappy dresser David
Gahan – and then, suddenly, the big swap as the Basildon boys packed up
string-picking for good and plumped for total electronics “because we
simply like the sound of synthesizers”.
The change made little difference to their musical outlook – “Somenumbers we did with guitars we still do now,” claims Vince – but the
drastic upheaval of image worked wonders.
Suddenly finding gigs far easier to come by, they earned themselves
something of a residency at Canning Town’s Bridge House supporting
Fad Gadget, and it was here, in these inauspicious surroundings, thatthey were discovered by “Uncle” Daniel Miller, the maestro behind
Britain’s zaniest electronic label, Mute Records.
It was love at first sight; Daniel took the boys under his wing andproduced the aforementioned fab single “Dreaming Of Me” without
inking any contract. Now, after suitably encouraging sales, he’s produced
their magnificent follow-up, “New Life”, andformally signed them up.
“Daniel’s helped us a lot,” says Vince, laughing
off my suggestion that the Mute man sounds
something of a Svengali figure.
“He’s been really good.”
But why, I wondered, with far bigger and more
influential labels hot on their trail, did they choose
Mute?
“Well, we trusted Daniel,” admits Dave.
“We went to see various majors and we were
impressed at first with what they’d got to offer, but it

was the same every time, y’know. Daniel seemed a lot more honest.
Anything that a major can do, Daniel can do.”So all’s hunky dory at Mute. The Some Bizarre connection rankles,
however. Spotted by the opportunist Bizarre founder Stevo supporting
Soft Cell at Crocs, he approached them to contribute to his compilationand they naively agreed – a decision which they now unanimously regret.
“We didn’t play the Bizarre evening here at the Lyceum,” elaborates
Dave. “We were never even approached to play it. It was only when wewere advertised that we knew anything about it. We had no intention of
doing it at all.”Why not?
“We’re not bizarre,” claims Vince. “It’s the whole sort of thing about
being a futurist band and all that crap. There isn’t a futurist scene really, isthere? It’s only a name.”
So how would you describe yourselves?
“A dancey pop band,” says Dave.
So what’s in a name? Depeche Mode means something like “fast fashion”
in French; a keen reflection of the current scene with its constantly shifting
styles, but also, perhaps, a perilous prediction that synthi-pop, like mod,punk and 2-Tone before it, is subject to the fickle whims of fashion?
“No, we just found it in a magazine and like the sound of it,” claims Dave.
“There was no reason why we chose it. We didn’t even know what it meant
up until…”“We still don’t,” quips Andy.
Vince writes his irresistibly catchy songs this way too. A heavyweighttalent searching out lightweight commercial sounds and then thinking
up cute lyrics to suit, he miraculously turns out the sort of precious little
trash classics that Phil Oakey would have given his whole fringe to comeup with; the sort that Gazza Numan could have created if he’d only
cracked a smile.
Their only peers, in fact, are early Orchestral Manoeuvres.
“You’re the first person to mention that,” says
Vince semi-sarcastically. “It doesn’t sound nothing
like it to us. Orchestral Manoeuvres use flowing
keyboards and poppy tunes, I suppose, but we likedifferent things, y’know – lots of music, no one
particular thing. I mean, most of our songs aredanceable. The beat is very important – as long as
people can dance to it, it’s all right.
“You know, if you wanna put us anywhere,”
he adds, “I think there’s a market for pop music
and always will be. That’s the bracket we fit into.”
Steve Sutherland •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 23

getty

September 25, 1981:
the Mode on stage
at the Markthalle in
Hamburg, Germany

1981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

LONDONLYCEUM

Confused, drained, dazzled

LIVE!
FEbrUArY 8

NME FEb 14 An evening of outré adventures with Throbbing Gristle, Clock DVA and Cabaret Voltaire.
fetish night out! A visit to the
new school of modern music – art,
avant-garde and all those words. No
doubt fancy terms and theories will be wasted
on boys who band around in dark broom
cupboards, going blind and making everyone
else deaf. But that’s not to say there aren’tsome interesting activities being pursued in
the freedom of the new halls of learning. Fromleft to right: in the lab mixing up the medicine,

getty

A

themselves and the audience we have
Cabaret Voltaire. In the workshop we have
Throbbing Gristle performing musicalelectrolysis, and in the gymnasium doing
supple cultural somersaults are Clock DVA.
Gristle are a murky mist in my memory.
Sanitary towels preserved in jars. Auschwitz.
A record that sounded like a dentist’s drill.
A funny name. Gristle are four – an electricalpulse operator, a bassist/tape modulator,a guitarist and a synthesizer player.
They wire things up as they go, they
stuff the audience with their wares
and it is wearing stuff.
They can’t keep their attention
in one place for long enough. Whenthey produce one of their infrequent
splays of exciting sound it seems to
be a mistake; most of the time they
are disengagingly trite. Their new
single “Discipline” sees people

scurrying to the bar with its shunted
staccato’d operatic vocals. “Discipline” isan industrial, electro-robotic “Respect”.
Genesis P-Orridge becomes a Kevin
Rowland in another time, another place –screaming demonstratively on bended knee.
But instead of bringing the song to its
appropriate pitch and stopping, he lets it
degenerate into pure comedy, taking a big
tambourine and banging it with a drumstick
while he intones, ‘ I want some discipline, ya
hear?’ over and over again. TG revert back totheir slapdash electro-collages.
Some things are sent to test us. Z’EV, withhis five minutes or so of child’s play percussion,is definitely one. He battles with aluminium
sheeting and metal boxes and I try banging mynotebook off my knuckle but nobody takes any
notice of me. But then Z’EV is from America.
The revelation of the evening, possibly
a lifetime, are Clock DVA: they are going tolIve revIews

Musical muscle

NME MAr 14 Ex-Dexys The bureau
visit the Netherlands for debut gig.

It could only happen in Holland –buried in a cosy country village lies an
old school hall that the local hippies havetaken over and transformed into a small
concert hall; what the travel brochures
would call “Dutch incongruity”, I think.
l.mr.
m.
Anyway, as the young Dutch contingent
.eew♦
sm
nann
l.ewlwe ecal.0
locked up their bicycles outside, Thea.za lme-anmt:nm[
na[la.:w: [.uu o.
:zo-xx.an eoo: aanaemBureau prepared to play their first everreener .m.e �ew-vni: .erxveen.me�..
iwmrl-..ºee�
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nwnu azaxa - aoa wee.a[r runzczxxxne.
group from Dexys Midnight Runners: (Jeffueual wzluu - m iaa wi
Blythe: tenor sax, Pete Williams: bass,• r 1nLL nlL.1M1 d [n! :YM
[ C[
fXOp!
Steve Spooner: sax and Stoker: drums),
W ••[�nñti=.��n•�with Rob Jones (guitar) and Archie Brown.Q .9.O�C KUIea
.VIfYG1=` e0 e♦ nx[atAiiCgW[IW(vocals) recruited from little-known soul
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outfit The Upset, Mick Talbot (piano) –one of the musicians to have escaped the
shipwreck of mod – hauled in from The
Merton Parkas, and trombonist Paul
Taylor rescued from the obscurity ofmusic since early Pop Group, ortraditional brass bands.
vintage Beefheart. They take care
The obvious critical preconceptionof themselves, their history andtowards The Bureau is that without
their emotional discrepancies. In
Rowland’s guiding hand and inspiration
their wake they leave a trail of broken
they’ll be nothing more than a group ofminds, bleeding hearts and memories
stuffy soul hack merchants, but each timeof a night somewhere.
I’ve seen them perform, the opposite
A night that never was?
seemed to be the case. For whateverAt the end they’re so wracked andreasons – laziness, personal weakness or
tormented that the last song is soconvenience – it would seem that a fairtattered it’s almost excruciating.
portion of Dexys allowed themselves to be
Forgive them? No, I thanked them
stifled under the gifted, inspirational– it was just how I felt, just how theyguiding light of Kevin Rowland (the only
should have felt: confused, drained
new hero of 1980). The Bureau are lessand dazzled by their own brilliance.
regimented and sombre than Dexys, but
Clock DVA don’t fit into the fetish
they still develop a tension and exert
category – they are super rather thanconsiderable musical muscle.
abnormal stimulus.
After only three weeks of writing andCabaret Voltaire “top” the bill.
rehearsing they’ve emerged with a set of
But they suffer from the exhaustingeight songs, well balanced and constructednature of the preceding acts.
with flair and poise. The opening shot is
A fatigued audience is not what CV are suitedfrantically athletic – a freshly pulverised
to. The first song hits with persistent andversion of “The Horse”, with Brown
insistent riffs, but it is quite simply too long.
doubling on the drums with Stoker.
There is a bare sensuality to their sound, but
Archie Brown is a valuable find and,the rigorous standards under which they
when he eradicates the overly hoarse andoperate tends to keep it hidden. The confines
gritty textures in his voice, he’s in line forand constraints placed on them by excessive
future greatness. On a taut punchy number
dependence on tapes are a big problem here.
like “Bigger Prize”, he gets caught in the
The songs are mainly
movement of the music, the heat and themusical scrapings put
zip of the horns. On a brooding ballad liketogether to form a limited“Find A Way”, his rich, throaty vocal moves
but effective skeleton;with the group to create a masterful song.
they need to slide andOf course, The Bureau haven’t got it quite
shimmer a little and allow
right yet, but you can’t help smiling whenthemselves to become
you see the way they’re heading – confident
embossed with someand dynamic, they allow shrewd balances
flavours, to throw somebetween finger-popping Motown andshadow over their
manic jazz blowing, for instance.
starkness and anger.
The best way to look at theI enjoyed the
ChUrCh hALL,
Dexys disintegration is thatevening; it tested my preconceptions
APELDOOrN,
they had to split up to
and put me in an impressionistic
hOLLAND
continue. Now you can haveposition. I hope that doesn’t mean
two good groups for the
I was lulled into a position where
price of one. Progression
I could be irrationally reverent
and compromise can go
towards an inanimate object. The
hand in hand. Gavin Martintrue meaning of “fetish”. Gavin Martin
MArCh
♦

[

May 22, 1981: genesis
P-orridge (born neil
Megson) of throbbing
gristle on stage at theVeterans Auditorium in
Culver City, California

be the best group in the world. They
are fashionable, feckless and flirty;
smeared with blood, held together withmuscle, set off on course with a clear
insight on history.
They are hip, tight and extraordinary,solidly based on a splintering hard backfunk, and are mesmerising cabaret.
James Brown
meets The Velvet
Underground. They arepossessed with a senseof mystery worthy of
Edgar Allan Poe –splattered, frayed but
fighting; they stand in
the middles of the new
decadence trying toassert themselves.
A smooth, smoochingswell somewhere in the middle of all thisbruising and excoriating, they always
stick in the throat, in the ribs and theheart. What a funked-up, shacked-up,
het-up charge they generate! When I
wasn’t dancing I was gnawing the skin off
my thumb. The best, most exotic dance

Clock DVA are
possessed with asense of mystery
worthy of Edgar
Allan PoeLIVE!

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 25

1981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

“I’m going to be oneof the survivors in
the new era because
I know where to be
and what to do”:
Marvin Gaye in 1981

26 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

“I’m notbitter”“There is a horrible
conflict,” says atroubled MARVIN GAYE,
seeking refuge in Britain
from his many problems
in the USA. His disputes
with Motown have evenpoisoned his relationshipwith his new LP In Our
Lifetime?. “In fact,” hesays, “I disavow thisas my work”.

A

EUGENE ADEBARI / REx fEAtUREs— MELODY MAKER FEBRUARY 21 —fter nearly two hours in that
bedroom, lydia finally gave up.
By any standards she’d waited
long enough for her Marvin Gayeinterview – a month she now
reckoned – and it was becoming
obvious that once again she had missed the boat.
Sitting on a stool in Marvin’s small hotel bedroom,
she tried to shrug off her disappointment
philosophically, cracking jokes to cover her pride.
“oK, well obviously yours is more important, so
you can go first,” she said to me, making me feelsurprisingly glad and guilty in one sweeping moment.
as usual Marvin Gaye’s time was being sought, andas usual nobody knew who was going to get there first.
My particular meeting had been arranged for twothat afternoon and it was now 3.30, while lydia hadn’t
even been given a time.
Marvin himself was next door in the living room
having important meetings, so Gloria, his publicist,
said. a guy had just flown in from the States on
account of the success of his new album, In Our
Lifetime?, which had shot into the US charts at 17. thisunprecedented success meant that Marvin was now
running two hours late in his day, and that all visitors
were shown into his tiny bedroom to wait.
which is where lydia (from Superwoman
magazine) and I waited nervously among Marvin’s
clothes and books, full ashtrays, unmade bed, empty
yoghurt cans and scraps of paper.
ten minutes after lydia made her decision and was
preparing to go, Marvin walked in. Very tall and a lot
slimmer than I’d expected, he quietly introduced
himself, and asked us to join him in the living room.
Dutifully we followed to a neat, comfortable room
which was a lot grander than anticipated. with us was
Gloria, looking increasingly nervous about thesituation. So when lydia admitted that she would be
prepared to come back another time to talk, a smile ofblazing relief shot across Gloria’s mouth and she
hugged the unhappy lydia on the spot. »HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 27

1981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

Marvin just sat serenely by a glass table, patiently awaiting the firstinterview of the day dressed in a white dressing gown and large brownsandals. In a surprisingly quiet voice he told Lydia he would look forward
to seeing her later. Then the bell rang.
Enter the man from Record Mirror, on time for his three o’clockinterview. Panic started to set in. “Well what are you going to do?” Marvinsoftly asked his press officer, when he realised who all these people
cluttering his sitting room were. “It’s your job, love. I’m only the artist…”
Luckily the man from Record Mirror knew what he was going to do. He
was going to come back later as well, and Gloria damn near hugged himon the spot too.
He’d graciously gone when Gloria leant down and whispered in my ear:“You won’t mention this delay, will you?”“Of course not, Gloria,” I said, setting up my tape machine. “Oh good,”
she said, and then walked out of the room leaving myself and Marvin.

a steady, piercing gaze. You can’t imagine him angry or violent, though if
you can believe the stories over the last 22 years, then you’d have to.
His stormy relationship with Motown could alone fill volumes, andindeed a trash novel, written by a former Motown press agent, called
Number One With A Bullet, is purportedly based on Marvin’s career there.
What concerns us here today, however, is Marvin’s new album; analbum that goes a long way in recapturing his former glories. In Our
Lifetime? was originally to be titled “Love Man”, but that was changed at
the last moment.
Don’t bother congratulating Marvin on it, though.
“Well what I wanted to do conceptually,” he says, “was show thecontrast between two very powerful forces that are very eminent here on
Earth. These two forces are good and evil, positive and negative, light anddark… however you want to put it.
“I wanted to show with music and the illustration on the cover that thisis the area we should be concerned with most. The idea was that I would
follow up on this concept and explain in detail how it works exactly, in
HE INTERVIEW THaT followed, I can still hardly believe. It
depth, and what it is I have discovered about life, its purpose, what in fact
began with his reasons for staying in London after last year’s
we are about and why we are here.
triumphant concerts.
“I didn’t get a chance to clearly illustrate that with this work,” he“No other reason,” he states, “except I was here, and I decided to be here
continues, “because I was stopped about three-quarters of the way
for a while. Also I felt an extra measure of energy and peace of mind, andthrough, conceptually speaking.”
the fact that it is more expedient for me to be on this side of the ocean thanHe stops and waits patiently for the next question, acting as though he’sin America.”
said nothing. Stopped? By whom?
Could he expand on that?
“The pressure is from Motown,” he says, “and it’s not really a pressure.
“I would prefer that my legal people deal with my financial andThey simply confiscated the masters before I finished with the work andpersonal problems in America at this time, and I be free of thethey released it as you hear it now.”
responsibility,” he says.
There’s a brief silence. What reason did they give?
This turns out to be a typical Gaye trait – the ability to make outrageousstatements seem as normal as everyday conversation, purely by dint
I ask naively. Gaye laughs briefly. “In order tomake money.”of his restrained, measured voice. His presence, too, is quiet, andBecause you’d recorded for too long?
commanding, his eyes complementing the illusion by maintaininglo
victoria apol
“Probably.” Oh. Another silence.
loNdoN
Later on Gaye will reveal that the newalbum was conceived from the top of hishead and that not one note was written
down while recording it. A fact that
JUNe 18
makes him extremely proud and probably
made Motown very anxious, when it cameto studio bills.
headed off for the ’80s with
“Well I’m fond of the new piece,” Gaye will say,part From the odd dash of Las
the fine “Praise”.
“because of the way it was created, without
Vegas, a little hammed-up stage
Little material was played off his last
writing and music for it. I feel a great
behaviour, and a constant projection
album – not surprising in view of thesatisfaction in hearing it finished. As much ofof distracting holiday snaps of our heroacerbic comments he has made about it;
what I did I can hear, because the liberties thaton a screen behind him, Marvin Gaye,but the obvious relish and commitment
were taken by Motown were appalling.”
Thursday night, was a pure revelation.
that Marvin put into his performance wasThen he delivers the thunderbolt.
Bearing in mind the, er, eccentric
the crucial ingredient.
“I can’t really claim this piece as my work or
reputation that this man carries before
He exuded confidence and strength,
my production. In fact I disavow publicly thishim (a reputation, incidentally, that has
intuitively knowing when to hold back or
as being my work.”in all probability been blown up out of
burst forward. Tackling his material withAcross from the glass table I can’t really
proportion — when did you last stand up
such a positive attitude, his performance
believe I’m hearing all this, its tone is so quiet,
royalty?), few could have expected his
was soul itself, stunning in its execution andso peaceful. In fact, it’s a continuation of theshow to be so riveting.
hypnotic in variety. At any one moment you
war between Gaye and Motown, which started
He came on stage and sensed thesensed that his unique vocal powers could
way back in ’72 when Marvin created theenormous warmth and respect thesend shivers up your spine just as easily as
trailblazing What’s Going On album, one of theaudience was eager to give. To them thefilling you with an honest joy and delight.
black music albums.
only important thing was the quality of his
Even when his microphone broke down
Marvin’s crime was to take as much time andsongs… and Marvin didn’t let them down.
just as he was about to show off the fullmoney as was needed to create the album,
Assured and confident, he drew on that
potential voice during “Let’s Get It On”,
directly going against Motown’s policy ofrich heritage to take us on a journey throughMarvin was able to laugh gracefully, crack
factory-line hits which must be produced on
his career.
a little joke and maintain the momentum.
the spot by the artist.
There was early Motown, with Marvin as
His band, too, proved impressive. From
Since then, even though Marvin was proveda dashing Errol Flynn, evoked by “Ain’t Thatthe disturbing reports about short
spectacularly right in making such a move – notPeculiar”. And a medley dedicated to Tammi
rehearsals a day before the tour, they’ve
only by the album’s sales, but by its astounding
Terrell, with her picture blown up on thegrown enormously, tackling with easequality – Motown USA and Marvin have notscreen while Marvin crooned beautifully ineverything from gospel influences, short
exactly been the best of associations.
front of it.
and sweet R&B, and Marvin’s own unique“I doubt if any artist,” Marvin replies to my
There was the social comment in thebrand of soul.
question about why he has stayed so long withhead-spinning music of “Inner City Blues”
But the show belonged to Marvin. To be
Motown, “has a perfect relationship with hisand “Mercy Mercy”. And he broke every
honest, I never dreamt he’d be this good. All
record company. But if one is an artist, one willheart in the house with a sensuous “Let’s
I want now is another Marvin Gaye concert.
never have a good relationship with the other
Get It On”; sent a flutter round the hall
And after Thursday that definitely ain’tside. There is a horrible conflict. If one’s artisticwith a “Heard It Through The Grapevine”
peculiar. Paolo Hewitt
nature is true, then he or she is more likely towhich bordered on the raunchy; and finallyT

An honest joy and delight LIVE!
MM JUN 27 Marvin draws on his dazzling career.

A

28 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

mArvin gAye

HaT MOTOWN cOuldN’T get at, however, was the, uh,concept behind this new album; the eternal battle
between good and evil, andMarvin’s conviction that Armageddon Timeis fast approaching.
“What I was trying to convey primarily,” hesays, “is that if we’re not concerned with survival
and understanding… that these two forces[good and evil] are definitely in control of us andthat it isn’t important what these two forces doreally because something is watching us, andsomething, whether we would like to admit it ornot, is in control of us and is probably playing
a neat little game of chess with us all.”He goes on to assert that these forces arebattling over us to satisfy their egos andthere’s nothing we can do about it.
“That’s the bottom line as I can see
it from my years of studying, yearsof searching for the truth, and thereal reason for things.”
Ask him exactly who he’s studied,though, and Marvin is reluctant toname names, only dropping
Nostradamus, the French prophet,
into the conversation.
“I wouldn’t like to list publications, butmany books, many volumes of books
written by those I’ve been recommended
who are wise, and when I find that a man
supersedes intelligence and transcends
to wisdom, I’ll read his book. I have aWhealthy disrespect for intellect; I
have all the respect in the world for
wisdom.”Similarly, Marvin eschews
conventional behaviour to live by
his instincts alone. Therefore hisability to stand up to people suchas Princess Margaret, last year ata dinner at the Lakeside Club inCamberley, Surrey.
“I’m controlled by my emotions
and my feelings,” he says softly.
“And if my emotions or my
feelings say I shouldn’t dosomething because of a verystrong principled position that
I must take, then in spite of theconsequences, in spite of all that is
facing me from a detrimental pointof view, then I have to remain true
to my artistic nature.
“That was a decision I had to makeinvolving my pride and my dignity
and it had nothing to do with theGaye with his
Royal Family. I’m dreadfully sorry I
children Nona andhad to make such a decision. I don’tFrankie Christianknow what else to say.”at an industry
event in 1981
Apparently only a fire-andbrimstone call from Berry Gordy,
head of Motown, whose office is supposedly plastered with pictures ofhimself and royalty, “persuaded” Marvin to appear at the club. When
Marvin arrived, Princess Margaret, plus half the guests, had gone homeanyway. Still, as Marvin is quick to point out, Bach and Beethoven
suffered by living by their emotions, so he’s not the first or last. No, what
concerns Marvin even more is the impending disaster facing the world.
Food shortage, economic collapse, drying up of natural resources and,eventually, a nuclear war. All this information can be gleaned from thecover of his new album. Marvin is already prepared for the disaster.
“I’m going to be one of the survivors in the new era because I know
where to be and what to do.”As for letting you or I into the secret, Marvin keeps tight-lipped.
“That is for people to find out. My job is to predict, and tell the people
what I feel the truth is as far as I have ascertained it. If they care to
make their own checks, then they’ll findout where to be…”
And with that statement I was invited toterminate the interview. I was wheeled out
and another wheeled in, to face this complex
character whose time is so heavily booked.
Concerning future plans, Marvin has atour of Africa looming up, of which he says:“I expect to enjoy total spiritual rejuvenation.”
Right now I can’t decide whether that’s a goodor bad thing.

“I’m controlled
by myemotions andmy feelings”

F cOuRSE, WHaT you didn’tknow was that while we weretalking an important phone callcame through for Marvin. It was Berry
Gordy, head of Motown.
Marvin calmly took the phone, asked
after Gordy’s welfare and said: “I justwanted to talk to you after the last time
we spoke, because I felt we left each other,uh, unsatisfactorily.”
Eventually it’s decided that Marvinwill send Gordy a detailed list of all he
expects from his contract. But as theconversation continues, I can only thinkof Marvin’s conviction that we are allcontrolled by one power.
“Just pawns in a game,” Marvin said.
How right he is. Paolo Hewitt •O

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 29

getty

run into tremendous difficulties
with those who are concerned with(adopts bored tone) deadlines, andcommerciality and control and all
those nasty little words which makeus very ill.”
He wearily shrugs his shoulders,going on to further illustrate thedichotomy as he sees it of being an
artist and yet also having topromote and concern himself withthe business side of things.
Could this, then, be his lastrecording with Motown? “Yes it
will,” he answers gently.
“I can’t imagine how I’ll everrecord another album with Motown
unless a miracle happens. I’m not
bitter or anything like that. It’s
expedience and it’s a step upwards
for me, actually.
“I feel that if I can find anotherrecord company that’s more, let’ssay, more interested in my qualities
as an artist, rather than a singer…
If I can find a company that isinterested more in me as an entity,
a complete entity – producer, artist,arranger, musician – and who
recognises those qualities in me, and who feels that these qualities are
essentially good, and that I should be respected, and that one should betreated special if one is special, then that is the company I’ll sign for.”
What amazes me most is Marvin’s weary acceptance of Motown, andtheir dealings. With …Lifetime he claims he deliberately steered awayfrom the “Motown sound”, which gives you some indication, he says,
when you listen to the album now, how much they changed it. He also
claims, straight-faced: “I have never given more than three-quarters of
my talent to Motown at any time in my career. I’ve always held back.”
His reasons are simple. If you treat me right, he says, I’ll treat you right.
Touché!

1981

,_.

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

VZHF

“Listening to a highly
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From New York, BRIAN ENO discusses work with
DAVID BYRNE, and much more besides – from videodiscs
to a dance troupe he’s discovered. “They have developed
an extraordinary dance called Electric Boogaloo…”— MELODY MAKER FEBRUARY 14 —n issue of NME late last year contained one of the most lungbursting yet unintentional pieces of rock humour yet created. The
feature was a question-and-answer interview with the guardian of
one of the most formidable pair of frontal lobes in the rock world –Brian eno. early in the interview he expounded at length on oneof the many topics close to his electronic heart, and ended witha slightly equivocal answer.
oh, came the next question, do you have a theory on that? Dear God, eno has theories
like other people have daydreams or dandruff. Theories curl through his pores likemental perspiration. Throw him a subject, like under-arm bowling, home taping or theneutron bomb, and he’ll toss up a reasoned debate like a seal nosing the balance of a ball.
That, at any rate, is the theory about Brian eno.
in reality, and a phone call to new York must count, he exudes a reassuring practicality,and even the discreet unbuttoning of a self-contained concept like “primitive futurism”
explains itself in the context of his conversation.
our context was, unsurprisingly, his recent work with David Byrne that led to the
Talking Heads Remain In Light album and the eno/Byrne album My Life In The BushOf Ghosts, released this month The album is interesting not only for itself, an experimentin the bonding of “found” voices, taken from the» radio or other records, with eno and »A

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HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 31

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1981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch
will explore further in the future, but weonly really grasped the idea near the end ofrecording, and as the songs on that album
developed very late in the recording process,there wasn’t the time to extend the layered
vocals idea as far as I wanted.
“One of the other main things we started
developing that pleased me was theinterlocking instruments idea – insteadof having a few instruments playing
complex pieces, you get lots of instruments
all playing very simple parts that mesh
together to create a complex track. For
example, there were five or six basses on“Born Under Punches”, each doing simple
bits that tie together.
“There’s one track on that album,‘Listening Wind’, that has a lovely feelingand is closest to my current mood – it has
a mysterious, dark, slightly lost quality,
and there is some of the feeling on BushOf Ghosts. The most obviously different
idea about that album is the use of foundvoices, although I don’t feel it to be unique
any more.”
NO aNd ByrNe’s technique on…Bush Of Ghosts is to use a numberof voices they came across – aLebanese mountain singer, an indignant
San Francisco radio host, an exorcist, aradio evangelist and others – and sew theminto the fabric of the tracks as lead vocals
rather than background sound effects.
They also used various “found”
instruments – ashtrays, garbage cans andso on – to supplement the meagre supplyof regular instruments they had with themin Los Angeles, and the tracks were built up
with a careful regard to the creative
possibilities of arbitrary, rather thanrandom, chances.
Eno and Byrne started collecting
interesting voices before
recording, and began combing
through their new-found library
to select their recordings fromradio or other records to enhanceor create musical moods.
“We are both fairly
disenchanted with ordinary song
structures – the voice you record
is invested with your own
personality. What we wanted
was to create something moremysterious, and by taking voices,out of context, but featuring themdominantly as the main vocal
performance, you can go on tocreate meaning by surrounding the voice with a musical mood.
“In a way it was an experiment to see if you can create fairly
sophisticated moods with voices outside their linguistic meaning.
Basically, I’m so fed up with reading reviews of records that concentrateon the lyrics, quoting them as if they had some relevance, but ignoring
the music.
How they’ll get on with …Bush Of Ghosts with some unintelligible
and some foreign vocals and no lyric sheet, I don’t know!
“The two tracks that work really well for me are ‘Moonlight In Glory’[a brawny, percussive track with vocals from the Moving Star Hall
Singers from Sea Island, Georgia, whose declamatory style is close to
Byrne’s] and ‘Regiment’ [an open, loping drum pattern overlaid by a
vocal from the Lebanese mountain singer that sounds like an early callfor the Ayatollah].

E

EbEt RobERts / GEtty

January 20, 1981:
Eno and David Byrne
experiment withvideo equipment inDavid
and Brian Eno
New York
CityByrne
shortly
photographedin NYC on
before therelease20, 1981.
of their January
first album
collaboration, My LifeIn The Bush Of Ghosts

Byrne’s music, but also as a bridging work that straddles the releaseof Remain In Light.
The Eno/Byrne album was recorded before they went to work on
the Heads’, but parts were re-recorded after a legal problem over theuse of a “found” voice, allowing the record to be substantially alteredafter Remain In Light was finished.
So Bush Of Ghosts is both a prologue and epilogue to Remain In Light?
“Certainly, it was planned as a forerunner, and a version was finished,
but we had to suspend it for legal reasons, which turned out to be
fortunate. Some parts of the original were weak, and when we workedon the Talking Heads album it became possible to solve some of the
problems we had faced.
“My perspectives on my work are always distorted by my proximity tothem in time – first excitement, then extreme doubt, which if powerfulenough will lead me to scrap it – the legal problem with the original is very
handy as an excuse – and then I get to a stage of liking it, generally.
“With Remain In Light, I think at the moment that the experiments thatparticularly interested me worked, but I feel we didn’t take them far
enough. For instance, the idea of the layered vocals. I wish I had gone a lot
further with that. It is an idea I’ve been fascinated by for some years, and
32 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

brian eno“I think those are the two real achievements of the album, and I think
my synth solo on ‘Regiment’ is possibly the best I’ve ever played. People
think it’s a Fripp guitar rip-off [they certainly do], but it really is me on
synthesizer. In fact, I remember Fripp once saying something like I was
the best guitar player he’d heard, and I didn’t even play guitar.”
The broad, rolling style of drumming that typifies the first side of the
new album makes a direct link with the “beatier” tracks on Eno’s Before
And After Science, but it was not, said Eno, a conscious link.
“When I make a record, it always seems fairly unrelated to everything
I’ve ever done. But looking at it retrospectively, I can see a piece’s
antecedents. You’re right that Before And After Science is an antecedentin the rhythmic sense, and at the same time, on ‘Kurt’s Rejoinder’, I used
a found voice for the first time.
“Following antecedents, if you look over the Talking Heads’ albums,
David’s singing style has become more and more preacher, moredeclamatory, and we found we both have a background in the ideas
behind that – the use of single phrases, often apparently or actuallyunrelated, to replace a conventional lyric – and that led us to our workwith voices on the album.
“Also, we are both keen on black music and its rhythms, which comesout strongly on the album. That’s another ingredient – a movement
towards the spiritual that you can sense around. I don’t mean spiritualin the back-to-Jesus sense, I mean in the way it’s used in African music.
“There is no distinction between the music you can dance to and musicthat moves you on a spiritual level. We particularly wanted to be working
in this strange area of mood and spirit as well as action or dance.”
Looking for clues to current intentions in past achievements is always
a treacherous business, but Eno responded agreeably to the idea thatthe use of “normal” sounds like radio voices or other people’s recorded
voices sits at no great distance from his previous work in the realmof ambient music – music to surround and unobtrusively support
everyday activities.
“I hadn’t thought of that particular connection, but it’s right. I’m
particularly fascinated by radio, especially in America. It’s extraordinary
just how out of control it is. In Britain or Europe the presenters are picked
for their qualities of calmness and obvious rationality – over here it’s theranting fringe that seems to get on the airwaves.
“It sounds such a mess compared to the ordered delivery you get in
Britain. Here you get the nuttiest people in charge of the airwaves – it’sfascinating. It seems to me that radio in America states the boundary
conditions of madness – you have a constant source of extreme points ofview on tap!”
With that radio babble on endless stream,
Eno has found America, and particularly New
York, an ideal workplace.
“I’ve been living in the US for some time now,
but legally I am a visitor, and my psychologicalstatus is that of a visitor as well. If you areworking, New York is a great city, but if you’retrying to think, it’s the worst place in the world.
“The whole accent is on action; go go go, rather
than contemplation. At the moment I have anapartment in Maida Vale, but I’m looking fora house over there. In the future I shall do mywork in New York and my thinking in England!”An integral part of that thought and work at
the moment at Eno’s involvement invideo development, a technical craft
seen as a life-saving, profit-giving
miracle a year ago by a music businessthat had bloated itself into financial
panic. The videodisc was to come withthe call and thunder of the Seventh
Cavalry to save and revive a flagging
market – and there, it seemed, thethinking stopped.
“The massive problem is finding
something that people will want towatch hundreds of times over, the way
you listen to music. Blondie’s Eat To The
Beat way is exactly wrong – a dead end.
The strictly illustrational approach just
isn’t going to work. Neither is the Todd

Rundgren way of taking the most advanced computer techniques tocreate devastating visual psychedelia – that isn’t going anywhere either.
“It’s like fireworks – astonishing effects that will please you for a few
minutes, but they are just effects and not bonded to a deeper structure.
I have been doing a lot of work at home on this recently, filming a lotof different things, and observing my reactions to them, and trying towork out what held my attention.
“There are, I have decided, two worthwhile areas. One is to think ofvideo as a static, rather than an active thing; regarding it rather like apainting. You look at it where it is for what it is, not waiting for the next
episode or piece of action.
“I have been working with the screen vertically, and filming land andskyscapes that change and evolve very slowly, then putting music tothem as an idea for a videodisc. They are interesting not for what is goingto happen but what is there – like looking out of a window.
“The second approach I have been working on is the idea of dance. I
think the great revolution that will come with videodiscs is that they will
make dance a mass form, as records did for popular music.
“Dances and dancers can be watched endlessly and have their own
musical form, and I think in a few years you’ll have dance groups who justplay – obviously it will have its Pan’s People side, the MOR end, but there
can be some incredibly exciting things on the fringe between dance andperformance art.
“At home I have a video of a 10-man black dance group who just get
together and dance in their spare time. They have developed an
extraordinary dance called Electric Boogaloo, which is exciting, very
intricate and includes some unique moves and steps I’ve never seen
anywhere before.
“It’s a lousily filmed video with shaky camera work and poor sound,but each time I watch the video I am more and more amazed by it – it istotally engaging.”
On top of his video work, Eno is recording and developing various
musical ideas that will probably end up split onto different albums.
“One direction is forming that is at an awkward, clumsy early stage.
The main influence on it was a Miles Davis track called ‘He Loved Him
Madly’, on Get Up With It, which has a very strange atmosphere, as if you
are standing in a clearing hearing different instruments at different
distances from you. It was mixed with that feeling of distance, and thatinterests me a great deal.
“While I was in Ghana, I spent a lot of the time with a stereo mic anda tape recorder with a set of those tiny headphones. I would just sit outside
at night, often for hours, listening to theenvironment around me amplified and throughthe headphones. Listening to a highly amped
world is extraordinary, like looking at things
under a huge microscope, and I am trying towork out ways of making music with that feelingof relatedness and un-relatedness.”“I’m so fed up
reading
reviews thatconcentrateon the lyrics”

uch exteNsive wOrk with music
and visuals – and, most of all, ideas –brings mail and other communications
to Eno in doormat measure. Just before we
spoke, Eno had finished a day at his officeanswering the regular flow of letters frominterested listeners and viewers.
“I had one today that particularly
pleased me from a psychotherapist in
Chicago, who wrote to tell me how she
had been using ambient music with thechildren she looks after.
“One child who everyone thought
completely deaf started responding toDiscreet Music, and for a long time only
appeared to hear that, but is now slowly
responding to other things.
“Another child she wrote about
hadn’t slept for two years. They tried
everything but nothing worked. The
first time that child slept after two years
was when the played Discreet Music,”
said a contented Eno. “I think that’s
a compliment.” John Orme •S

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 33

1981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

Phil Collins: runningriot through a variety
of moods and styles

ALBUMSAngelo Deligio / geTTY

Phil Collins Face Value VIRGIN
Let’s have the facts up front: Face
Value is Phil Collins’ first solo
album. Phil Collins is, of course,
the drummer/vocalist with
Genesis, the notoriously soporificpomp-rock megastars. The
equation insists that this mucker’s
solo excursion must surely trace
the same vapid contours thatband have been running theirfingers around for so long.
Preconceptions tend, however,to blur the image, distort theoutline; predict only confusion;
it would be easier for us both ifyou left yours at the door.
Face Value delights inconfounding the familiar
parameters of that band’s style:listening to this album is likemeeting someone you thought
you knew and disliked anddiscovering that they’ve got far
more going for themselves thanyou ever imagined. A cursory
glance at the credits he’s
accumulated for his work outside
34 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

Genesis should’ve
suggested that
Collins had more up
his sleeve than his elbow. He’s
continually put himself about
with a promiscuous relish,
turning up on albums by Brian
Eno, Robert Fripp, Peter Gabrieland, most recently, John Martyn.
Reflecting his eclectic outlook,
Face Value confirms Collins
as something of a musicalcosmopolitan; a more suburban
imagination would probably
have selected one style anddisciplined its repertoire to fit,
Collins runs riot through a variety
of settings, committing himself
to the disparate moods and styles
with genuine zeal. His enthusiasm
lifts his encounters with blackmusic convincingly above mere
flirtation, and the inclusion of thejoyous Earth, Wind & Fire horns
gives the album an authentic
clout wherever they appear.
“In The Air Tonight” opens
the album, its discreet tension
by now familiar though hardly
diminished. This is a slightly

EW&F horns explode in aflurry of celebration, overswirling voices, finger-clickin’
rhythms and chattering
percussion, giving your soulheels to dance on. I don’t
have a clue about the way
this tune sounded when
Genesis first recorded it onDuke, but I suspect it pales
comprehensively besides
this version.
“The Roof Is Leaking”
follows. A dramatic contrast,
the arrangement isunnervingly bleak, Collins’
vocal set against stark piano,banjo and slide guitar.
Lyrically, “Roof” is in the
tradition of Dylan’s “Hollis
Brown” and Paul Siebel’s“Jack-Knife Gypsy”; abrooding evocation of rural
poverty. In Collins’ song
the narrator, watching
his family suffer anddie, finally despairs
for any relief.
Written and sungby someone with amansion in Weybridgeand no shortage of thefolding, this might’ve
stretched the listener’s
credulity to the limit.
But Collins’ imaginative
leap finds him landing
surely on his feetrather than flat on
his face. His concern
ALBUMS
is authenticallyconveyed, the musicaldetail deployed withcrucial accuracy.
Collins dives again
1981
into the territory ofAnother Green World
differentwith the Enoesqueversion to the“Droned”. A skittering piano
single. The “Intruder”
phrase is repeated withdrum pattern enters far later; but
increasing momentum overwhen it does crash in, the effect is
Shankar’s flamboyant violin
startling. You feel like someone’s
slashes and pattering percussion;
just burgled your heart.
the final frenetic rush has the
The immaculate standard set
giddy drive of something likehere is continued through to the
Tim Buckey’s “I Never Asked To
final grooves of Side One.
Be Your Mountain”.
Opening with a warm wash ofSide One plays out to thesound that recalls the kind of
elegiac strains of “Hand In Hand”.
textures contrived by Eno on
Gentle, lapping percussion, piano
Another Green World, “Thisand airy synthesizer introduce
Must Be Love” is a delicate
a drifting theme; the mood’s
ballad, Collins’ husky vocal andpicked up by a low, rumbling bass,
slightly slurred phrasing evoking
given emphasis by Collins’ halting
John Martyn. Stephen Bishop’s
drum interpolations, enhanced
backing vocals are maybe a little
first by a choir and then the
too glossy and threaten to takewondrous EW&F horns, backthe sting out of the cut, but thefrom lunch but as hungry as ever.
interplay between Alphonso“Hand In Hand” is rousing,Johnson’s dextrous basslines
probably sentimental; but yourand Daryl Stuermer’s glistening
heart would have to be built like a
guitar is engrossing.
brick shithouse not to feel stirred“Behind The Lines” snaps intoby it. After scaling some pretty
focus with an exuberant pop! The

REVIE
W

Allan Jones, MM Feb 7Fire Engines Lubricate
Your Living Room POP: AURAL
A piece of plastic flying into
the ointment, battering thestodgy trends, breaking down
the walls of eternal heartacheand scaring the pants off of thecomplacently dejected.
What is to be
done? So many
think they know
the answer – takea superficial lookat the deeply felt
and masterfully
expressed
emotions of Joy
Division and lift off
the gloomy gloss.
Paint a soundtrack

for Armageddon. Or laugh in its
face, gallivant in glad rags andpretend that’s some big deal.
Fire Engines have an answer,
and they probably haven’t eventhought about it. Leap out ofyour chair, ring the bell, scream
the klaxon and go chasing in thestreet. There’s life in there – a lotof big noise and not all of it
pleasant; spiky, angular guitars
jabbering and brawling, and filledwith enough energy to light awhole town.
David Henderson andMurray Slade are the guitarists
responsible for this cockfight ofa sound, flashing their plumes,
pecking and squawking in an
insane dervish dance, as if
every performance could betheir last. It’s an exhilaratingshow, drenched with bloodand feathers, the pair eggedon continuously by drummer
Russell Burn, denting cowbells
and kit to death, and bassist
Graham Main, riffing until his
fingerpads are torn.
Inevitably, perhaps, the stamina
begins to run down, and by
the time they’ve begun towork their way throughSide Two they’restaggering around withwhat sounds like a late’60s blues-boom riffand then engaging inminimal primitivism
which quickly loses its
initial charm.
At a recommended priceof £2.49, a slight let-up in
adrenalin shouldn’t worry
you too much, though.
Fire Engines are crude(with a production tomatch) and compelling,rough stuff indeed that
leaps up, down and inside
out, nagging your mind
with its worryingly unusual
riffs for hours afterwards.
Coming in cheap paper
sleeve and plastic bag(presumably thebrainwave of Pop: Aural
supremo Bob Last), this ismusic for the depressionthat doesn’t give in to it.

SINGLESRainbow
I Surrender POLYDOR
Absolute mayhem! Rainbow
grab an old Free riff and hackaway at its contours with noneof that band’s belligerent
passion. Not quite as
blundering and hopelessly
boorish as Whitesnake orGillan, Rainbow are still an
unsightly blemish. And RitchieBlackmore’s solo here should
convince everyone that hedoesn’t know his axe from his
elbow. MM Jan 31

LandscapeEinstein A Go-Go RCA
Landscape are theresponsibility of Richard
Burgess, whose various
associations with the likes ofSpandau Ballet and Buggles
is explained elsewhere inthis issue. This is fleetingly
beguiling; a disco-tronic pulseinterrupted by eccentric
twinges and deadpan asides.
Incidental music
without much
incident.

SINGLES

W
REVIE
1981

MM Jan 31

Kim Wilde
Kids In
America RAK
The Wilde, theInnocent and the
Meymott Street shuffle.
Daughter of Marty, Kim turns inan ebullient piece of plastic
pop, with more synthesizers
than Tangerine Dream. “A hit
with a bullet,” says discerningfeatures editor Irwin. MM Feb 7

Robert Wyatt Stalin
Wasn’t Stalling ROUGH TRADE
Hold the front page, late arrival
snatches coveted Single Of
The Week spot. An irresistible
account of the fall of the Third
Reich. Impossible to imagine,
but if you can you’ll hear
Operation Barbarossa set to
doo-wop surfing sounds with
Wyatt’s multi-tracked vocals
causing simultaneous mirthand angst. Should be heard on
all four BBC radio networks fortwo hours every day, or at least
until Reagan retires. MM Feb 7

Duran Duran Planet Earth EMI
As empty as a Marcel Marceau
soundtrack. Lacking soul andoriginality. MM Feb 7

Kim Wilde:
ebullientplastic pop

Lynden Barber, MM Jan 24" ENGINL-

V

plastic Gift
Get up and use me
Anaesthetic
Sympathetic
Discordthing in cartons
Hungry Beat
Lub(tente your living roan
pt. 1
room
gate your living
pt. 2
New
^—

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 35

rex feATures

impressive heights on Side One,
Collins relaxes his grip and begins
to coast on Side Two. “I Missed
Again” and “Thunder And
Lightning” both feature thegrooving smack and whistle of the
EW&F horn section (augmented
by Ronnie Scott’s tenor on “…
Again”), but neither matches therobust exchanges of “Behind The
Lines”. “You Know What I Mean”
is the album’s Big Ballad. The
effectively stark introduction isquickly overwhelmed by Arif
Mardin’s elaborate stringarrangement: to the song’s cost,
Mardin edges Collins frommellow drama to melodrama.
“I’m Not Moving” is lightweight,
sub-McCartney; a novelty that
doesn’t know quite what to makeof itself. Introduced by a lovely
smoky midnight sax and mellow
flugelhorns, “If Leaving Me Is
Easy” is the side’s standout track.
Collins sounds like a man who’s
just reached the bottom of thebottle; the poignancy of his
performance is slightly
undermined, however, by the
intrusive falsetto backing vocals
and the strings tugging too hardfor our sympathy.
Face Value goes out with abrave assault on “Tomorrow
Never Knows”, which has aswirling cauldron of synths,
horns and voices held together
by growling bass and elbowsnapping drumming. Collins’
version doesn’t have the whiteknuckled intensity of theradical Manzanera/Eno/801
interpretation, but its very
inclusion here is evidence ofCollins’ determination to take on
as much as possible.
It’s also a final confirmation thatwhile Genesis may have theirheads in the clouds, Phil Collins
has got his feet on the ground.

1981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

“We neverwent outof style...”Blighted by critics, the police and taxi radios,
BLACK SABBATH continue to be a massive concern.
“What I resent is people who put down our fansas dummies,” says Geezer Butler. “You getsome real intellectual people into what
we’re trying to say.”

36 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

I

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 37

steve callaghan / rex features

Black Sabbath on stage
during the extensive,incident-filled Heaven
And Hell Tour of 1980–81:(l–r) Geezer Butler, Vinny
Appice, Ronnie JamesDio and Tony Iommi

1981

J a n u a r y – M a r ch

— MELODY MAKER JANUARY 31 —“It comes back to your basic kid, really. The kids don’t have to read in thepress to know what to like, or turn on Radio 1 and say, ‘Well that’s what I’ve
got to be into at the moment, I’ve got to follow that sort of fashion.’ The kids
reject all that, so there’s not much music, apart from the heavy metal stuff,
for them to choose from. Even then there’s never been that many bands
playing our sort of stuff. I mean, we took it one step further and made it
really heavy.” Geezer Butler, Leeds hotel roomy six o’CloCK that night, Bridlington-on-Sea, a small
Yorkshire seaside town, was dead. Nothing but silence.
Down the stone high street, Audrey had finished dishingout her authentic home-made fish and chips in yesterday’s
papers, and retired to the cosy upstairs of her shop.
A little further down, Gypsy Rose Lee, “as patronised by
Royalty”, had likewise closed and vanished mystically into the night,
leaving behind her quiet, empty streets.
Briefly the town lapsed into a silence, broken only by the sound of theNorth Sea’s dark, gentle waters lapping against the dock’s stone walls.
Through the darkness, fishing ships silently slid out to sea, their hugeoutlines eerily floating into the distance.
A poignant silence held, hovered, saw what was coming, and then got
the hell out as the first motorbike roared in. To be followed by another,
then another and then cars screeching round the corners, music blaringout of the open windows. Deep Purple mixing with the sound of theseagull’s squawks. Sullen youths, in leather jackets and enormously
flared, frayed jeans, suddenly appeared on street corners, a huge varietyof scarves, stickers, patches and badges draped around them.
Wine bottles in hand, they informed the citizens of Bridlington they
thought it was not Friday, but the day of the lord.

B

Comically corny“Sabbath! Sabbath! Sabbath!”
On the corner by a Wimpy Bar, two local girls crossed the road to avoid
a group of males stuffing themselves with chips and cider.
“Oi!” the one with the beard and tattoos shouted.
“Want to see the show tonight?”
The girls quickened their pace.
“Stupid cows,” shouted the bearded one, as the girls vanished out ofsight, and then stuffed another handful of grease into his mouth.
The Black Sabbath concert was due to start in an hour.

nside the hall both support bands had finished and the crowd
began the chant for Sabbath. Backstage Ronnie Dio was saying his
first words to me. “Hello. You got Steve Sutherland with you?” heasked in his distinctive American accent.
He was referring to the not-so-complimentary review of the band theinnocent Sutherland had written in MM the previous week. I told him no.
“Do you know Steve well?” he inquired. “Because you better get to know
him well in a short time. He may not be around much longer.”
Oh God, here we go again, I thought. Another step in the right direction
for the ever-worsening relations between Sabbath and this paper.
There was the occasion when Tony Iommi met up with Allan Jones forthe first time since Jones had penned a not wildly enthusiastic critique ofTony’s lifestyle and musical ability. Tony did the only thing possible. Hebeat the hell out of him.
“No, only joking,” said Dio, assuredly patting my shoulder as Iommi, big
and large in his all-leather suit, loomed into the dressing room. Ronnie
introduces us. “Hello Tony,” I say. “Allan sends his regards.” A grin appears
on his face. And he walks out to tune his guitar.
Dio hears the crowd shouting the band’sname. “Why are they shouting for Saxon andnot us?” he says with a grin.
HAMMERSMitH ODEONLONDON“Basically, the press have never understoodus, and still don’t now. I used to love theCream and The Yardbirds and all them sort ofbands, so it was natural for me, because I love
JANUARY 18
this sort of music, to go on and play it. Those
bands never got much critical acclaim either.
But they always had the biggest followings“Paranoid” to compensate
around England.” Geezer Butler, Leeds hotel room

I

LIVE!

MM JAN 24 Or just tedious? Sabbath can do both…

Peter Still / GettYS

top laughing and listen. It wasn’t that
bad, really it wasn’t. Well, OK, that Iommi
bloke’s guitar solo went on a bit, clocking
in at precisely 10 minutes and 53 seconds ofpretty standard, yawn-inducing, greasefingered fret-work padded out with a cleverdick time change or two.
Oh yeah, and I s’pose ol’ Vinny Appice’s
six-minute drum spot can hardly be said tohave broadened the scope of superior
sticksmanship, but count your blessings: atleast the bassist, Geezer Butler, had thegood sense to keep his shortcomings welland truly buried beneath the overall barrage.
So what if Ronnie James Dio did sound likehe was having big trouble digesting a brick?
His complete ineptitude asa forceful frontman madeOzzy
a welcome change from theOsbourne’s
excessive ranting s of that
replacement,
Ronnie Jameswell-known nutter
Dio, on stage
Ozzzzzzzy Osbourne.
on the Heaven
So the ghost of Crowley
And Hell Tourand Wheatley don’t stalk thesongs like they used to, andso the new ones [sic], “LadyEvil” and “Sweet Leaf” [from1971], are dire, directionlessdirges: at least there werelots of audience singalongs,
a super-snazzy light show,
a glossy fact-filledprogramme, dry-ice
a-plenty, and a note-perfect38 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

for the abysmal dross drawn from the latest,
lamentable Heaven And Hell album which
dominated the set. It was opening night, thefirst of four, the Sabs on the Sabbath, soldout in advance, an outright success and an
excellent opportunity to indulge in a little
bangin’ of de’ead.
Let’s not get bogged down in that oldargument about the mindlessness orotherwise of heavy metal. Suffice to say
when the Sabs were good, they werecomically corny, but more often than not,they were turgid, tedious and not half loudenough. It really wasn’t that bad – justbloody dull, that’s all. Steve Sutherland

alFway through the set
a 60-amp fuse decided enoughwas enough and blew itself up. It
stopped Sabbath just as they were beginningto climb to an awesome climax of screaming
vocals, wild guitars and battering drums.
For a second there was silence, and then
Sabbath, professionals to the last, grinned
and Dio cracked a few jokes while the amp
was being replaced.
Five minutes later they were back at it again.
Their new show now consists of a large
segment of Heaven And Hell (their last album),interspersed with such all-time “classics” asHblaCk Sabbath“War Pigs” (written about Vietnam back in those alternative lifestyledays) and, inevitably, “Paranoid”.
To boost it further, Tony Iommi treats us to a 20-minute guitar solo
(thanks Tone) and Vinny Appice, depping for the ill Bill Ward, manages
about seven minutes on his own. Lights flash constantly, smoke bombs
explode, dry ice smothers everyone in sight, and fire is exploded on stage
by two jets either side of Dio.
I watch it all from the mixing desk with Dio’s wife Wendy, a former
actress who endears herself to me by revealing she acted in, among
others, Lords Of The Flatbush, one of the all-time great B-movies
starring Sylvester Stallone and Henry Winkler before he got morals.
Halfway through, I slip off to the bar and ask
a nervous 14-year-old just exactly what he seesin Black Sabbath and not, say, in The Jam.
“Well, there’s no lights or lasers. It’s too
serious,” he stammers out. “It hasn’t got any…”
Glamour? I prompt…
“No, it just hasn’t got any… eh… glamour.”I return to the desk and watch the youth ofBridlington go stark, raving crazy.

increasing both the volume and velocity of his playing to lead up toa shattering finishing of screeching notes and tortured expressions.
As the solo light shone down upon him, Iommi, sweating, dramatically,crashed out the chords and notes, and with a great flourish stopped
suddenly. The next noise myself and seven-and-a-half thousand otherpeople heard was from his amp.
It went: “Car 51, please proceed to Neville Street.”
Iommi, much to his credit, threw a quick grin and then hurled himself
back into the solo pronto. Backstage I wished that the taxi had been for him.

“I’m only giving people options, they can take it this way or that way,
but the basic idea is still there. Like Heaven And
Hell to me was all about injustices, especiallyto young people. The line which I think ties in
the whole album – the whole concept of what
I wanted to write about – is, “The world is fullof Kings and Queens/ Who blind your eyesand steal your dreams.”“I’ve seen, Geezer’s seen, Tony’s seen and Billy’s
seen so many people who don’t have the talent tocreate themselves, but have the money to get
inside your pocket, inside your soul, and take yourartistic talent and turn it into financial benefit.
“Those are the kings and queens who blind youreyes and steal your dreams, and they do it toeveryone. So perhaps what I’m trying to do is to keep up the string of social
comment. We’re middle-class people who believe that the middle-classpeople are the structure upon which this world is built, and we’re trying tosay for them: Look! King and queen… sod them! Don’t let them blind youreyes and steal your dreams.” Ronnie Dio“The press
have neverunderstood us,
and still don’t”“We’ve said it ourselves. Why a 20-minute solo?
Why a 10-minute guitar solo? Why a five-minuteguitar solo? Everyone does guitar solos. Fair
enough. But after all it’s really the one chance that
Tony gets to do his improvisation, other than guitar solos in ‘Sweet Leaf’, or
whatever other songs. I think he deserves to do that, it’s his decision, and if hewants to do it he’ll do it. Perhaps it does go on a bit, and we have talked about
cutting the solo down, and that was Tony’s suggestion.” Ronnie Dio.

“We’ve never been into fashion anyway. All you’ve got to do is look at every
concert we’ve ever done in Britain, which have always been sold out from day
one. So we never went out of style because we’ve had such a good following.
“You think you’re really representing what the kids of today want, and wewere to a certain amount of kids. Even when punk got big in ’76, like before
that, when there was nothing coming out between ’74 and ’76, completely
stale in England, we always had that following. We always stuck to ourmusic, and our fans have always stuck to us.
“You’d be amazed at how many people come to us who have the same
feelings about the world as us. They’re so into the subjects we’ve covered,and they look to us for more information about it. That’s what I resent about
people who put down our fans as dummies. You get some real intellectual
people into what we’re trying to say.” Geezer Butler.
ext day we go to Leeds. Outside the band’s hotel, fans havealready gathered, waiting and hoping for a glimpse, or an
autograph, or something to justify their long wait in the cold.
Huw, tour manager, and I have travelled on ahead of the band with theluggage and can’t help them. I’ve just been car sick everywhere, so I’m inno mood to help. I go up to my room and await the football results.
Next thing I know the gig is likely to be cancelled. The band’s crew have
set up the gear and Iommi’s amp is picking up a local taxi firm’s radio.
Along with his breathtaking guitar work, this amp is also broadcasting
the taxi firm’s orders for the day.
A slight panic sets in. The band consider cancelling the gig. No way, say
the police. If the gig’s cancelled the kids will riot, and Sabbath will becharged with provoking a riot. They’ll have to play.
The taxi firm steps in. Give us £500 – no, a grand, no, £1,500 – no, let’s say
you give us £2,000 – and we’ll go off air for the duration of your show.
Get lost, the band tell them. In the end the band will play and pray itworks out. The gig is in the Queens hall. It holds 5,000 people. Tonight an
extra two-and-a-half thousand fans will squeeze into the hall.
Ain’t no doubt about it. This band is massive.

N“We’d like to be able to touch everyone physically in the audience, and notjust the ones down the front who you can really relate to because you can see
their expressions and incredible enthusiasm. But there’s nothing you can do.
That’s the way it is.” Ronnie Dio
hat night in Leeds, the band suffered just one hitch. Wheneverybody had cleared themselves off the stage, Iommi the lone
figure launched into his 20-minute epic. Slowly he built up thesolo, beginning in “classic” fashion with soft, melodic chording, before

T

aCK at the hotel, Geezer Butler sat in the reception area and, in
his thick Brummie accent, confessed: “God, all I could think of
up on stage tonight was a pint of John Smith’s Yorkshire bitter.”B“I’ve thought about that, whether I could do something else. I’ve been in it
for 12 years now, and just to go and open a shop somewhere or open a pub.
When we made Heaven And Hell, I took two months off then because I
didn’t know what direction I was going in. I had a lot of hassles at the time,
personal ones, and in the end I just couldn’t stay in one place.
“I couldn’t wait to start playing. The music on the radio was driving me nuts;
I couldn’t hear anything I liked. Just wanted to go out and play. I just had togo and do it, and this is the only band that can do it for me.” Geezer Butler
never expeCted heavy metal, Black Sabbath or the Old Way
Of Rock to be just as popular as it undoubtedly is. On Saturday
afternoon I heard Richard Strange on the radio talk about the “deathof rock”, and then witnessed queues about a quarter of a mile long within
the Queens Hall waiting to buy Sabbath badges, T-shirts and all themerchandising they could get their hands on.
They also stood there, herded about like cattle, shouting and chanting
one name – “Sabbath! Sabbath! Sabbath!” – like it was a religion orsomething. In fact it must be.
Sabbath, to their credit, rode it well, down-to-earth guys, experienced
enough to know how to handle success and all its implications. And ifever I questioned their old-fashioned motives and way of working, allthey had to do was to fall back on their past record. Four nights sold out
here, a couple of million albums sold there.
Of course, it didn’t convince me. Sheena Easton can boast the samething, and to be honest I’d rather have been stuck in my hotel room with
Dallas than Sabbath. But then, as Dio says himself, “that’s the way it is”.
For how long is anybody’s guess.

I“Who else can we think of that writes the way we write? Judas Priest weremeant to be some kind of successor to a band like Black Sabbath, and they
still write about ‘let’s go out at midnight baby and do whatever’. It still boils
down to the fact that they’re taking what their idea of heavy metal is, whichis the more classic end of it, and that’s not our end of it at all.
“They’re still talking about love in some way – love between a man and awoman in whatever perverted way they speak about it. And we don’t do that.
We have our own piece to speak and it’s not what anybody else does. So I think
we’re absolutely original.” Ronnie Dio
Paolo Hewitt •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 39

i1981a P r il – june

The Little Boys
Understand...

j�

thE cuRE, BoB dYlAN,
AdAM ANd thE ANts,kRAftwERk ANd MoRE

“Wake up and live”
NME MAY 16 RIP, Bob Marley.
hough the shock is less than that accompanying
the tragic slaughter of John Lennon last year, the senseof loss brought on by the untimely death of Bob Marleyis scarcely less.
Word has been going around reggae circles for months thatBob was losing his fight against cancer, but the man’s own
resilience and confidence carried us onwards and upwards inhope. It is significant that, right to the end, Marley refused tothink “that negative way”. He was, above all else, a symbol ofhope and optimism for millions of fellow humans around theworld, who saw in the diminutive singer from Trenchtown some
aspect of their own sufferings or torments, some resilience andmilitancy that they lacked or aspired to.
For, if Marley’s appeal and his fame was less thanthat of his fellow spirit Lennon, then the nature of his
success and his appeal were more remarkable thanthat of The Beatles, and certainly in the ’70s, more
immediate and more relevant to the times, to oursense of being placed in time.
While John took time out and off to discover a
personal and domestic identity that fame had denied
him, Marley moved progressively nearer the heart ofthe social and political activity of his time. In 1976 hebecame the first music star to be subjected to anassassination attempt – when gunmen burst into his
Jamaican home and sprayed it with bullets, his offence
apparently being to lend support to the campaign by
Jamaican PM Michael Manley to win re-election.
He survived the attempt, just as he had survived theiniquities and injustices of social deprivation andracial and class stigma to become one of the truly
visionary artists of modern times.
Though the relevance and validity of his religious
convictions were frequently called into doubt by his
detractors – glib, faint hearts and jaded cynics for themost part – Marley remained for many the apotheosisof rebel pride and sunny outgoingness, of warmth andmilitancy in unlikely fusion. The paradox was quickly
apparent to anyone who met, interviewed or worked »40 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

CREDIT

GIjsbERT HanEkRooT / GETTy

T

May 13, 1977: Bob Marleyon stage with The Wailers
at Houtrust Hallen in The
Hague, Netherlands,
during the Exodus TourHISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 41

1981

NE

in association with Bob Marley. A man of
lively intelligence, insatiable curiosity,
profuse humour and unwavering faith andcommitment, he was also endowed in greatmeasure with the musical and performing
talents to conquer the hearts of millions towhom his Rastafarian beliefs wereindecipherable at best and offensive at worst.
He was made to suffer in interviews for his
adherence to Rasta dogma, though few of his
attackers possessed the underlying spiritualitythat animated his beliefs. The present writerremembers seeing Marley under attack in a
German hotel from prosaic German radio
interviewers pressing home questions about
Haile Selassie’s bank account.
“Why you no check the heart that beat insteadof the bank account?” he answered, and it
seemed then that whatever his failing, Marley
was more on the side of life than the grey
rationalists who pursued him.
I think it was at the same meeting that I
realised the enormity of the pressure bearing
down on him – spokesman for Rasta, for reggae,for Jamaica, for black people everywhere, forany people concerned with the advancement
to a compassionate world community…
There was another paradox there, in theconflict between Bob’s compassion and his
belief that mankind would in some way
receive the wrath of God’s judgement for
the unending wickedness of their ways, andhis admonitions that “If a fire, let it burn, if
a blood, let it run,” were no idle Sunday-school
chatter, but intimations of the Apocalypse

creditallan tannenbaum / getty

april – JU

42 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

that reverberated
throughout his work.
Perhaps there wasa conflict too between
his identity as a black
spokesman and the factthat his father was white;
not that Marley was inany way racist, simply
that his mixed blood
made him check theabsurdities of racism thatmuch more profoundly
within himself.
Robert Nesta Marley
was born the son of an
English army captainfrom Liverpool who had
left Jamaica by the time
his son was born toCedella Booker in theparish of St Ann’s. Bob
Marley never knew hiswhite father, but
throughout his life heenjoyed a close
relationship with hismother, who survives
Marley: “a man of
lively intelligence,him. There was always
insatiable curiosity,
uncertainty about the
profuse humour andexact date of his birth,unwavering faithand commitment”
and though April 6 isshown on his passport,
Marley once informed this writer that the true
date was in mid-February.
He spent much of his childhood in the
country, and retained a great love of nature andthe outdoors, sometimes in later years talkingof returning to the land and becoming a farmer.
His family were poor – Jamaican poor, whichmeans very poor indeed. They moved to West
Kingston and Marley spent his adolescencelearning survival on the lawless streets of theTrenchtown ghetto, where
he quickly teamed up withschoolmates Peter McIntosh
and Neville “Bunny” O’Riley
to form The Wailers, a vocal
trio much in the style of thesoul outfits to be heard on
the Miami radio shows –the pure high-falsetto
harmonies of Curtis
Mayfield’s Impressions werea particular inspiration for
the teenage group.
At first The Wailers were joined by two further
schoolmates, Beverley Kelso and Junior
Braithwaite, but these left soon after the group
had cut its first single, “Simmer Down”, for
producer and patriarch Coxsone Dodd in 1964.
Marley had already cut a solo single – “OneCup Of Coffee” – two years earlier, when at theage of 16 he had been introduced to producer
Leslie Kong by up-and-coming singer Jimmy
Cliff, but the record flopped.
The Wailers, however, were an instantsuccess, and over the next three years cut

a series of classic hit singles for Dodd, varying
in approach between slow ballads in theAmerican soul style – “I’m Still Waiting”, “It
Hurts To Be Alone” – and furious uptempo ska
tunes like “Love And Affection” and “One Love”.
The record that sealed the trio’s reputation as
the toughest, most popular combo on the island
was “Rude Boy”, a paean to the exploits of thefreewheeling delinquent youth who hung out,bored and reckless, on the streets of the capital.
The disc triggered a craze for “Rudie” records
which swept the charts, relating episodes in thedaredevil way of the rudies and their endlessconfrontations with authority. The group also
started to sing ribald sexual celebrations like
“Bend Down Low” and “Put It On”.
Ever pioneers, The Wailers decided to start
their own label, Wailin’ Souls, but this venturesoon foundered when Bunny was railroaded
into prison on charges of possessing Jamaica’s
national drug, marijuana.
Tosh and Marley cooled their heels. Marleyspent some time in America, working at a car
factory in Delaware, where his mother had
settled. He returned to Jamaica to sign a deal
with soul singer Johnny Nash, resulting in asingle, “Reggae On Broadway”, on CBS. Later
Nash would have hits with Marley tunes “Stir It
Up” and “Guava Jelly”, one of many artists toprosper from Marley’s prodigious and songwriting talents.
The turn of the decade found The Wailers
reunited and on better form than ever, working
with producer Lee Perry – the start of a longassociation between The Upsetter and Marley– on material they released on their own newly
founded label Tuff Gong. With Perry pioneering
new sounds and rhythms, brilliantly assistedby the resident rhythm section of the Barrett
brothers, and the group, particularly Marley,
penning songs whose spirit and insightresound to the present day, the results were
truly magical. Songs like “Trenchtown Rock”,“Duppy Conqueror”, “Small
Axe”, “Mr Brown” and “SoulRebel” were Jamaicansmashes and began toattract the attention ofothers less directly involvedin the still tiny Jamaicanmusic business.
Acutely sensing thepotential of the group toreach a new audience
untutored and ignorantof Jamaican roots music– “reggae” was currently enjoying a boom
as disposable chart music; the idea that it
could have anything to communicate of theweight and import of rock and soul or jazz wasalien – Island Records founding father Chris
Blackwell signed the group and put them into
a 24-track studio with unlimited time; thekind of procedure enjoyed by even the mostmediocre of rock talents.
With Blackwell’s considerable
entrepreneurial talents at the helm, andunlimited studio time (and session players)
at their disposal for the firsttime in their career, The
Wailers’ dazzling, innovatory
Catch A Fire LP inevitably
made the group a cult within“If you knew whatlife was worth, you
would look foryours on Earth” –“Get Up Stand Up”

Ia rock community largely drained of the revolutionary
fervour of the ’60s.
Most, however, couldn’t cope with the languid
rhythmic intricacies of the music and its
uncompromising spiritual and social message, and eventours by the group failed to activate more than a minorityof either the media (journalists Carl Gayle and Richard
Williams were notable exceptions) or the public at large.
Catch A Fire served as the blueprint for all Marley’s
albums on Island over the next eight or so years.
Peter Tosh and Bunny both left the group – not without
acrimony – after the second album, Burnin’, leaving
hardcore fans bemoaning the demise of the group andmost others heralding the solo Marley on Natty Dread,the album that was to propel both him and Jamaicanmusic as a whole into the limelight.
His tour of the UK the summer of its release was one of
the most delirious and thrilling shows that many of us
have ever witnessed, and people still talk in reverend
gasps of the Lyceum show that constituted his Live! albumof that year. His subsequent recordings – and indeed thelive show itself, with the I Three replacing the harmonies
supplied by Tosh and Bunny, and a progressively greater
instrumentation – have been largely refinements andvariations of the formula he evolved in the mid-’70s, its
appeal spreading steadily further round the globe.
He’s had massive Top 10 and disco hits – “No Woman
No Cry”, “Jamming”, “Would You Be Loved” – and singlehanded he has made the concepts of “Dread” and “Rasta”
mean something to people who otherwise would
Paul weller inscarcely have heard of Jamaica. He inspired the island’s
1981: protestor,
music business to look outside its own tiny market, andpublisher andbonfire starter
if the cultural exchange has at times seems lopsided(ie, reggae lost out), then times are still early.
He gave the popular press something to get excitedabout when they discovered that the Jamaican MissWorld had a boyfriend who smoked a pound of marijuanaa week, had dreadlocks on his shoulders, and nonchalantly
talked of his nine children, the majority of them not by his
legal wife Rita, who has been with him since the earliest daysof The Wailers and whose support and concern have been
MM MAY 2 New, diversifying activity from the Jam frontman.
increasingly apparent since the announcement of his illness.
the second issue of December Child,
Many of Bob’s dreams in this life were realised in his
o coincide with thehis own fanzine. It’s an interesting
lifetime. He travelled to Ethiopia; he saw Zimbabwe
release of their new single
exercise, taking in essays on George“liberated”, and the Zimbabwe government’s invitation to“Funeral Pyre”/“Disguises”,
Orwell and the state of TV fromplay at the country’s independence celebrations last year
The Jam – who will be touring abroad
various contributors, to the poetry of
was for Marley one of the most important and moving eventson its release date, May 22 – shot aboth Weller and “friends”. In fact, thisof his life and career.
video down in the woods of Woking
summer Weller has been given one
Until cancer struck him down, he was in fact on the brink(the posh end) to accompany theiredition of BBC2’s Something Else toof another stage in his career. He planned to finally conquer
brand-new effort.
present a poetry programme, which
America, aided by Stevie Wonder, with whom he had stuck
The film also involved hundreds
will be filmed in either June or July.
up a friendship and who had written the international bestof eager extras indulging in rites
Should be a lot more interesting
seller “Master Blaster” about the wiry Jamaican hero. Better
over bonfires for the benefit of thethan the latest book on The Jam to hit
would have come.
camera. The woodland bop goes on.
the stalls. Published by Omnibus and
For Marley and his fellow Rastafarians, there can be little
Further news from the Woking
written by Miles, it contains suchcomfort in the idea of the peace and tranquillity of the grave.
Wizards is that their Liverpool gig
riveting info as: “Paul has a regular
Marley did not believe in an afterlife… “If you knew what life
for the unemployed on Monday was
girlfriend, Jill, who accompanies him
was worth, you would look for yours on Earth,” he sang in “Getset up in response to The Specials’
on tour.” Wow! It’s only value lies in
Up Stand Up”, and he meant it.
Maydaythe quotes taken from early fanzines;
I also recall having an intense
London gig. “As
2•DECEIMBER•CHILD
the rest of the superficial copy is all
conversation with the man and his friends
The Specials
drawn from interviews.
on the occasion of the Jamaican Peaceare playing
Incidentally, Miles, I could have
Concert in 1978. We were sat on the steps
London whensworn that Patrick Humphries
the marchof his Hope Road headquarters, engaged
worked for us when writing his album
finishes,” said
in metaphysical ramblings. “When you’rereview of Sound Affects. But thenWeller, “wedead you’re dead,” chuckled Marley, over
Miles obviously knows a lot better,thought we’dand over, and appreciative laughter came
remarking on his review in the, er,
play Liverpool
from his cohorts.
NME, plus Dave McCullough’s infor the start ofThe corollary to that is: when you’re alive,
Record Mirror when he writes (or so
the march.”be alive fully: “Wake up and live”, as Bob
we’re told that’s what it is) for Sounds.
Weller has
said. We could do worse than to follow hisjust publishedinspiration. Neil Spencer •Paolo Hewitt

Poetry of Weller

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 43

andre csillag / rex features

T

1981

april – JUNE
Xxxxx xxxx xxxx
xxx

the Human League Mk ii,
prior to expansion: (l–r)
Joanne Catherall, Phil
Oakey, susan Ann sulleyand Adrian Wright“We have a big
problem: no money”
NME MAY 2 All change in The Human League. How can a pop band function
without any musicians? “We get everything to its absolute boptimum…”“Watching them (The Human League) is likewatching 1980!” David Bowie, 1979

rex featuresI

t is 1981. At Virgin Records, employees
are drinking champagne out of coffeemugs to celebrate the success of a longplaying record by someone named Gillian,
while graven images of Richard Jobson stare
lugubriously from the walls.
In an enclosed space some distanceremoved from these festivities, The Human
League – the label’s classic underachievers –are engaged in a crisis meeting with seniorpersonnel, the outcome of which will finallyand irrevocably redefine the relationshipbetween artists and company, or at the very
least the prevailing assumptions concerning
life on this planet as we understand it.
“We’ve given in! We’ve conceded
everything!” declaims Philip Oakey,
emerging from the conference room. He
presents a faintly extraordinary spectacle.
More arrogantly lopsided than ever, his
asymmetrical haircut frames a faced coated in
sufficient quantities of cosmetics to give evenmembers of Japan a three-week headache.
Incongruously, he is clad in a plain black jacket
and shirt and blue jeans.

44 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

He is accompanied by Adrian Wright,
originally the League’s visual person but now
actively involved in the construction of noises
as an additional responsibility, and by Ian
Burden, the group’s new keyboard player.
Adrian is in the middle of a day of rapid anddrastic mood swings;
Burden merely looks talland confused.
To the average rockvoyeur – assuming that sucha person exists and would
admit to existing even if he
did – the current Human
League are not in the bestof positions. With thosemembers of the original
band popularly creditedwith the musical brains of the operation
occupying themselves with their British
Electric Foundation and Heaven 17 projects toconsiderable critical acclaim (even though
their stuff is actually dead boring apart fromthe brilliant single), it would seem that Oakey
and Wright have been left as little more thancustodians of a name and a haircut. After all,their first post-Marsh and Ware single was nota lot to write home – or anywhere else – about,and their synthesizer pop and techno-glam
visuals have been co-opted by a great many
people who were playing orthodox pop andpunk when “Being Boiled” first came out on
Fast Product.
“They did it better,” responds Oakey tothis latter point with no small degree ofmagnanimity. He is eating chocolate, which
always renders him considerably mellower if
not significantly healthier. “They’ve only got
the money and the hit records, but we’ve got
the satisfaction of knowing that we started it.”
“The satisfaction and the overdraft,”interpolates Wright.
We begin to discuss the differences madeto Life In The League by the BEF defection.
“When Martyn and Ian left,” confesses
Adrian, “we realised that we had nobody left
who could actually play.”
How did this affect you?
“Drastically! We had tostart playing. I started
playing every day and so
did he [Oakey] and we did‘Boys And Girls’…”
Oakey: “You went into
playing and I went into
quality control. That’s thedifference. The old Human
League – and presumably
BEF – work on a high level of ‘inspiration’. No
matter what nasties we’d say about them,
they are certainly very inspired about whatgoes on in their heads and that’s why theirrecords can be so lovely.
“We work in a different way – we do loads
and loads of different things and pick out thegood ones and don’t let them go throughunless they are really good; get everything to
its absolute boptimum. We rehearse, in other“Rehearsal was
totally alien to the
old Human League.
We never evenrehearsed for live”

owned, so both factions take it in turns to go in
Ian to write the song and then changing it
and work. Despite all the bitching from theonce he’d written it”.
BEF side, Oakey contents himself by
Oakey’s current function would seem to beremarking that “they’re not as tidy as they
to tidy up and finish off the immense backlog
might be”.
of songs originated by Burden and Wright,“Besides,” he argues, “if Ian [Marsh] andthe latter having blossomed as a vocalist,
Martyn get to be as big as Abba, then we cancomposer and instrumentalist.
sell our stories to the News Of The World andWright hints darkly that it was his desire
make a fortune. We’ve got pictures…”
to participate in the music that precipitated
Wright (gleefully): “Pictures!”the break-up of the original League. This
Philip: “…and I’ve got my story written up inparticipation was prompted by his “getting
manuscript form, all the dirt…”
well bored between tours while the others
Adrian: “My Life With Martyn!”were writing and me having nothing to do but
And that leaves the haircut (Number 4 last
buy more slides”.
year), once thought toOakey, for one, isbe their sole asset…
heartily impressed byeven that is temporary.
these displays of talent
I% p ¿`LL
Philip is threatening
and determination
to get his hair cut
from one who’d been
totally different for the
little more than band
single after next. The
scapegoat and fall guy
consequences of thatsince the beginning
THE NL/MAN
bode ill for the securityof the League.
of Western civilisation.
In the meantime, BEF
Even more significant,and The Human League
Burden is threatening to– now once again on
make the League “really
speaking terms –THE NL/MAMW
danceable”. How does
continue to work inthis affect Philip?
weekly shifts in their old“Not at all. I can’t
studio in Sheffield. Bothdance. Not a single step.
the studio itself and the
The girls tried to show
old Human League
THE fizf*fn#V
me, but… not a single
synthesizers andstep.” Charles Shaar Murraygadgets are jointly

FRIjiRSAYLESBYRY

tue. DEc.s

LEAGUELEAGUELEAGUE
Xxxxx xxxx xxxx
xxx

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itiéeShiP is,

December 6, 1981:
the now six-piece
Human League
appear at London’s
Rainbow theatre, theday after “Don’t You
Want Me” begins afive-week run at No 1

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 45

peter still / getty

words. Rehearsal was totally alien to the old
Human League. We never even rehearsed forlive. I would rehearse by singing to tapes…”
Ah yes, tapes. What’s all this about Martyn
and Ian erasing all the old backing tapes thatyou used to use?
Adrian: “We wouldn’t use their tapes
again anyway.”
Oakey: “It really surprised me. We went out
on this tour and we had to get three people in
two weeks and teach them what to do. Two ofthem were at school and Ian we got in quite adeal later and didn’t have much time to workout his lines. We still did absolutely new
backing tapes for four new tracks. So we went
to London and Bob [Last, founder of Fast andPop: Aural and manager of both BEF and the
League] said , ‘Listen, lads, you’ve only got
one copy of these backing tapes, so you’dbetter get ’em copied.’“So we made two copies of each: perfect,
wonderful, studio copies which I took home.
Then we read in the paper, ‘Oh, ha ha, we’vetaken the tapes off ’em. And the really sadthing is that we were using them ourselves torecord other things over the tracks because
we needed the tape…”
Oh what a tangled web!
“We’d only be doing the big hits from theold set anyway – ‘Empire State’ roared in at 53– but when we tour next we’ll have so muchnew stuff to do…”
Material is not, however, the commodity inshort supply. Instead…
“We have a big problem: nomoney. I don’t understand why.
I mean, we haven’t had any hit
records, but we have no money
and it’s a real problem, being ona shoestring and trying to dosomething that looks amazing.
I mean, it’s ridiculous.”
So, Mr Burden. What’s it likebeing in The Human League?
“I’m not sure. I’m not in yet.”
Philip: “Yes you are!”Ian: “I’m not!”Philip: “You are! It said so inthe papers!”
Ian: “I should believe that
then, shouldn’t I? I don’t know
what’s going on. I’ve been on aretainer for two months and at
the end of the two months we
decide what I’m supposed to be
doing. And we haven’t.”Well, do you want to be in The
Human League?
Ian: “Yeah, I’d like to carry on.”Is it OK if he carries on, Philip?
Philip: (expansively) “I’d love
him to carry on!”In that case, Mr Burden,
welcome to The Human League.
Burden is, in fact, thecomposer of the current League
single “The Sound Of The
Crowd” (a considerable
improvement over “Boys And
Girls”), though the song is
co-credited to Oakey, who
explains this seemingincongruity by stating that
he earned his credit by “telling1981

a p r i l – J U NE

The 26-year-old
Stuart Leslie
Goddard – AKA
Adam Ant – on stagein London, 1981

46 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

“A revolt instyle”B— MELODY MAKER APRIL 4 —ackstage and nervous
at the newcastle city Hall, agroup of us stand silently onsome stone stairs in front of adoor marked “exit”. Holding
the door’s iron bars are two
bouncers, their huge forearm muscles
tensing with every jolt of pressure the doors
sporadically receive from the other side.
everyone is waiting for the Word. We eye
the doors apprehensively, a rush of nervous
excitement starting to build in our stomach.
suddenly someone shouts “noW!” and thebouncers fling open the doors and burst into
the street.
a huge surge of people
hit them in a sudden gush,
the bouncers fighting tostop them breaking into
the theatre. the first of theparty dash past the throng
to the waiting coach, thecrowd impatiently
allowing them to pass,their interest focusedsolely on one person. andwhen he finally appears,
there’s a huge scream,a chorus of gasps, andthe mob move on.
Biting! Pushing!
touching! they try
everything as adam ant
makes the 10-second
journey to his seat on
the coach. His arms are »graham wiltshire / getty

ADAM AND THE ANTS are attheir peak. Between sell-out
shows and meeting royalty,
Adam expounds on art, punkand the new pop aristocracy.
“They’ve all got their own
style, they all take care ofbusiness. They’re all looking
and sounding good.”

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 47

1981
ML

michael putland / gettya p r i l – J U NE

flung protectively around his head as he runs through the screaming
gauntlet of arms grasping for that one moment, or one kiss, or one touch,or one anything, to remind them of the day they came into his life.
Urgently Adam is propelled along, helped by the desperate pulling armsof bouncers and manager, until he finally steps on to the coach, a strange
delirious smile stretching across his face.
The crowd gather round the coach window and tap urgently, wavingand shrieking at him. Adam waves back and the coach slowly pushes its
way through the crowd. Adam settles back into his seat as the coach picks
up speed and laughs out loud. The laugh of relief.
God only knows what he’s thinking.
All the time I spent with Adam Ant, I had a recurring feeling: déjà vu.
At first I thought it was a dream I’d had and left it at that. But the feelingpersisted. So much so, in fact, that it was only on the train coming backthat I suddenly realised what it was.
Then I knew that I had been here before. Ten years ago, in fact, when
Marc Bolan, David Bowie, Slade and Gary Glitter started inciting the kindof fan worship that Adam Ant is presently experiencing.
Every bit of the atmosphere that surrounded Adam Ant’s Newcastle gig,
the faces on the audience, the dressing up, the,screaming, biting and pinching, the devotions and
J\,iJ _.\, 1J
the worship, reminded me of when I first fell in love

Adam Ant: “I’m
more involved
with showbiz
than rock’n’roll”

48 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

with music. Bolan was my first hero, Bowie my second. I was a fan thenand so was Adam Ant. Only now he has five singles in the charts.
As you read this he will probably just be touching down in America forthe start of a tour that has already sold out without him even playing one
preliminary gig. His album has already sold a hundred thousand copies.
He’s No 1 in Australia, Sweden and Germany, and in countries that he has
never played.
His success is not only confined to Britain. All around the world thisman is about to dominate and stomp on every chart. That’s his job.
Because Adam Ant is the first true pop star of the ’80s. No wonder I’d been
here before.
id you always have a catholic taste in music?” asks thewriter in room 412.
“Yes,” replies the pop star. And then begins to explain.
“Because when I was a kid I used to study a lot and all my mates would
be going down the club and listening to… It was when the secondgeneration skinheads were about and I got into that fashion, because it
was great fashion when it’s done right. It wasn’t just a pair of boots. It was
Royals, Crombies, sock suspenders, Perrys… Red
Flash or Green Flash… turn-ups just right, comb
1'iJ
ryback pocket, hair had to be semi-crop with side
parting from a guy near Finchley Road, a guy called
Ray Raymonds, I think. It had to be an Italianhaircut, you know.
I was at grammar school and all my mates went tothe comprehensive, which kind of separated us abit. I used to sit up there doing my Latin homework,
which I was awful at, and listening to ‘Band Of Gold’
coming out of the youth club every night. It used to
be all the Tamla stuff.”“I had an old Dansette player or something.
I didn’t have much music because I didn’t reallyhave one of my own, but I started collecting records.
The first record I think I bought was… Eh, I think I
had two… I think I had the ‘1812 Overture’, that was
the first thing I ever had, then I had the Magical Mystery Tour.
“Then I started to buy Tiny Tim, because the first thing
I was ever into was Tiny Tim. Purely because he was amazing.
I just loved his stuff. Stuff like ‘Have You Seen My Little Sue?’and the 78s thing he did. And I just loved him because he wasreal showbiz.”
Loving Tiny Tim and going to grammar school at the sametime must have clashed quite a bit, says the writer, filling inthe silence.
“It was quite disciplined,” agrees Adam. “In a way it taught
me to work, because they give you such a lot of work to do atnight that I built up a very high workrate. I think that in order
to sit down willingly seven nights a week and…”
At which point there is a sharp knock on the door.
It’s room service with tea for two. He enters in a white shirt
and smart trousers, puts the tray down and asks Adam forthree autographs. Adam graciously agrees, signs the paper
and room service disappears. Adam settles himself again on
the bed, his luggage scattered around him.
On the dressing-room table cassettes he has with him forthe tour lie among the bottles and tubes of makeup. They
include The Idiot by Iggy, Low by Bowie, the Dexys Midnight
Runners debut album, Triumph by The Jacksons, a self-madecompilation tape of the Stray Cats, Human League, Madness,
The Jam, Heaven 17’s “We Don’t Need This Fascist Groove
Thang” (which Adam is crazy about) and various others. Thereis also “Rise” by Herb Alpert.
Elsewhere clothes are scattered about with books and otherbits of bric-a-brac. “I think with homework,” says Adam,picking up the conversation again, “you either do it because
you see that there is going to be something in it for you at theend of it. Or you don’t.
“Well, I was capable of doing it and in a way all the work I’ve
ever done, having been like an only child, did enable me toentertain myself. I had in mind going on to further education,
but when I got there I realised I was better at the arts and it had
to be art school. I had to do something involved with painting,“Dbecause I was the only art student at school,”he says laughing.
“I was the only one who did A-level! Towards
the end of it, because the art master left, I used
to more or less teach the whole school’s art
classes. I used to stand in because I was the only
A-level student. And that was quite good,
because there were some quite heavy classes
and there were some quite hooligan-styled kids
and you had to earn their respect. If they gave
you any lip you’d have to deal with it in a way
they would understand rather than come onwith the headmaster stuff which was nonsense.
But that was alright.
“There was no help there at all,” he continues.
“There was no information available at that
school [Marylebone Grammar, by the way],
into higher education. I remember talking
with the headmaster in the corridor and hesaid to me, ‘Right, you’re doing History, French
and English’.
“I said, ‘I want to do History, English and Art’,and he said, ‘Art isn’t a subject. Art’s just a
hobby.’ So I said, ‘I’ve got no intention of going
to university at all.’ He said, ‘But you’d get into
university.’ I said, ‘I don’t want to go’, and henever spoke to me from that day on. Never. That
was the end, but that was all right.” Adam shrugs
his shoulders. “I used to play a lot of sport.
Rugby, cricket, things like that…gymnastics
I used to do a lot. I liked gymnastics.”
He rubs his eyes with a finger and you can’t
help noticing how tired he’s looking these days.
Beside him are the leather trousers that he will
wear on stage tonight. He was up till
six the previous morning sewing
studs on them.
“I don’t think anything I’ve
learned in my life, I’ve wasted,” hemuses. “I think that everything I’ve
learnt or been told I’ve catalogued
somewhere. It doesn’t matter what
it is. Like even a bad experience isreally valuable. I believe that if
somebody has been beaten up
really badly, they kind of spend therest of their lives trying not to get in
the same position. And that in a way
makes you think about your mouthwhen you shout it off.
“Also everything you say, everything you say
is a product of what you’ve been told. Like I
maintain still that there’s no original thought.
I haven’t got an original thought. The originality
comes in how I clash the ideas together andpresent them. That’s all it ever is,” he admits.
I smile to myself, and remember the time
Melody Maker called him a “loquacious”
individual. I still stand by that two years on.
“I did in fact form my first group at school inthe sixth form,” reveals Adam. “I forget what itwas called. Something useless, but…”
The sharp ring of the phone cuts him off.
“Excuse me,” he says and reaches over to pick it
up. It’s two fans that have been waiting for Adam outside the hotel. They
haven’t got the tickets for tonight’s show. Can he meet them?
“Well, I’m a bit busy at the moment,” says Adam. But he agrees to comedown in half an hour’s time. I glance at the miserable day outside thewindow and remember how lucky I am not to be standing outside
Newcastle City Hall.
“Where are we?” asks Adam. “Ah, yes, well I was playing bass andsinging. I styled myself on Paul McCartney. I learnt his solo albums, his
first three solo albums. And Jack Bruce was quite a hot player at the time.

April 1981: (clockwisefrom bottom) Adam
Ant, Terry Lee Miall,
Marco Pirroni, Chris“Merrick” Hughes and(bassist Kevin Mooney’s
replacement) Gary Tibbs

I just, more or less, listened to bass players I
liked in order to learn. That was my first group.
We just did covers; just did old rock’n’roll songs.
We did some Cream songs, Wishbone Ashsongs, nutty things like that.
“Blues songs as well, because when I was
playing the bass I also taught myself at the sametime honky-tonk guitar, Sonny Terry and
Brownie McGhee, and really began to get into
that. Branched off into that and just got into Big
Bill Broonzy and Bessie Smith and all that kindof stuff. I was really into that for two or three
years, and I really did a lot of research.”
In fact, in everything that Adam involves
himself he does “a lot of research”. “Because
I think there’s so much to listen to in your lifetime that you’re in dangerof actually losing out on it.
“There’s something in everything. Something in every kind of music,
every type of music, and to be quite honest the least influential music I’ve
listened to is rock’n’roll, really. The most influential when I was at college
were Roxy. I was really into Roxy and that’s when I wrote a letter to Ferry.
“I was at art school and I was given a project to do on an artist from the20th century, and I wanted to do Ferry because I felt he was a little
unusual. He wrote me a letter back on Roxy paper and it really was good »HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 49

getty

“I styledmyself on
McCartney,learnt his firstsolo albums”

1981

a p r i l – J U NE
Adam felt the same excitement when a band
called the Sex Pistols supported Bazooka Joe at
St Martins College Of Art in November 1975.
“Because they had the arrogance, you knew
they were going to do it and I left Bazooka Joeover it. I said they’re great.”
Adam then formed a band called The
B-Sides, “who never got out of South Clapham
bedrooms”, and also made a lot of money
selling home-made jewellery at Hornsey Art
College. He made enough money to buy
equipment to record with, and when the first
Adam And The Ants lineup came together,
there was Adam handing out the tapes of thesongs he’d recorded for the band to learn.
For the next three years the Ants, in various
lineups, built up a steady punk following,
gaining a notorious reputation as Adam
utilised his past art student career to design
badges and logos around the work of such
erotic pop artists as Allen Jones. Adam’s stage
show too, with his leather and makeup, was justas sensational. His view of punk was that it was
simply entertainment.
“I still maintain that nobody knew what
the fuck John Rotten was singing about fora long time. To me it was always a revolt in style.
You know ‘Anarchy In The UK’, so what?
‘Schmanarchy In The UK’, I mean who cares?
The only person who thought it was political
was Malcolm…”
Indeed McLaren was to make a crucial
reappearance in Adam’s life three years on
from that first punk explosion. After the releaseof Dirk Wears White Sox, Adam’s debut album
for Do It Records, after a brief sojourn with
Decca, McLaren took control of the Ants, whowere by now selling out every time theybreathed without the support of anybody but
the kids, and introduced them to the idea ofusing African drums as on the Burundi album.
Adam took the idea, left Malcolm, signed to
CBS and effectively blocked any chance Bow
Wow Wow ever had of huge success. Dog eat
dog? Ant smash dog more like it.
ince his ascension to status, Adam
Ant has been doing some strange
things. Like appearing on Jim’ll Fix It.
Like meeting Princess Margaret and playing
the Royal Variety Show. Like reissuing old
singles. Like he used to be a punk, man. Ourleader. And now look at him. A bloody pop star!
He’s sold out well and truly good. Bastard.
You’re getting slagged off these days, I say toAdam. “Of course!” he replies. “But I mean I will
do. I’ll be more slagged off because I find thatwith the hits comes the writs. Let’s put it thisway. If in 1977 someone gave me a sandwich one
cold morning and are now suing for… ‘If I hadn’t
given you that bacon sandwich you wouldn’t
have lived and then you wouldn’t have goneon to this success, so give me 15-20 grand’and believe it, then it’s crazy. You can become
very bitter,” he concedes. “But I don’t want to.
I believe that I’m right and they’re wrong.”
He shrugs his shoulders once more. So why play the Variety Show?
“Because (a) it was for charity and for a very good cause. And (b) I offered
my services to the Royal Variety Club Of Great Britain. Basically, there’s
no middlemen, and I am more involved in showbiz than rock’n’roll. I
don’t think rock’n’roll is showbiz. I think rock’n’roll is rock’n’roll andshowbiz is showbiz, and doing the show was great because I met a lot ofreally nice people and there’s no threat to them.

“Avast, me hearties!”:
Adam heads off inpursuit of booty on afirst North American
tour, March/April 1981

because I began to realise that there was a
so-called pop star who was an artist too. Up
until that time there was T Rex and all the glam
bands, which was great, but there was Ferry still
having the time to write that. And I began to getvery involved with artists such as Allen Jones…”“I never said
that Adam
And The Ants
would never
go on TOTP”

FTeR leaving school Adam went
to Hornsey Art College and joined
a band called Bazooka Joe. Theirleader was a guy called Danny Kleinman.
Adam still remains firm friends with him –Danny designed the American Indian logo forthe last tour.
Danny and Adam regularly played
Hampstead Town Hall in Bazooka Joe, and here again all those familiar
faces start turning up once more. “Dury in the Kilburns and Strummer inthe 101’ers – you better believe it they were great. The rest of the band you
didn’t look at, but he was great. And I remember seeing him down the
Nashville and you could see it then. Somebody asked him to sing “Route66” and you could see it in him, the anger. He said, “You can take ‘Route66’ and shove it right up your backside.”A

50 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981S

adam ant

“You know in rock’n’roll there’s this kind of dogeat-dog shit, there really is. I’ve got to hate everybody
because I’m Adam And The Ants and they’re theStray Cats and they’re The Human League. I’m justtelling you now,” he says, getting a little stroppy,“that one of the nicest things about this success isthat I’ve been able to meet and befriend people like
Brian Setzer, Gary Numan, Paul Weller… people like Kevin Rowland –I haven’t met him yet but I hope to – because I admire them. I can sit backand not feel threatened, not feel competitive, but just feel great.
“And if you look at the bands I’ve mentioned, plus Madness, they’ve all
got an idea. They’ve all got a sound. The Nutty Sound, the Cat Sound,
Intense Emotion Revue… they’ve all got their own logos, they’ve all got
their own style, they all take care of business, they’re all into looking andsounding good. The look has got to be as good as the sound, and neither
has to be overwhelmingly important.”
Clearly Adam is aware of where the Ants fit into things. And he’s so right.
The bands just mentioned are to the ’80s, albeit in different shapes andsizes, what Slade, the glam bands, Bowie and Bolan were to their era.
Fine. But doesn’t it sound cosy up there. All pop stars together. I bet you
were sneering at this a year ago, Adam – Top Of The Pops and all.
“No, because I never said that Adam And The Ants would never go on
Top Of The Pops, I never limited myself, although I didn’t think that there
would ever be a situation where we would be asked, purely because I feltthat there was no way I was going to compromise musically or idealwise.” [Bet you loved that last sentence, punk…]“And I haven’t!” he shouts from across the bed.
“When me and Marco went in and recorded ‘Kings Of The Wild
Frontier’, that was all we had. We financed our own tour with the
publishing deal we’d got on the strength of ‘Cartrouble’, and if anybody
tells me that ‘Kings…’ is a cop-out, then I will stand corrected. Because
there is no way that song was acceptable eight months ago. It was a heavyduty song. We went for it and it wasn’t No 2 then and we still went for it.
Then ‘Dog’ came. Then ‘Antmusic’, blah, blah, blah.
“But all those songs were written so far beyond and recorded that I wasgoing out and doing the kind of things that I’d always done. The difference
now is that I am able to fulfil promises I made to myself. I’ve always
wanted good merchandise. I’ve always wanted to play a class joint, andI’ve always wanted to have fun.”That’s not what the punks say, though, Adam. They say you were theleader and you betrayed them. You could havebeen a real contender, Adam, instead of what
you are now… a pop star.
“I can deny that most sincerely,” replies Adamon the question of being a punk figurehead.
“Maybe I was, but if I don’t set out to be, there’s
no reason why I should acknowledge the fact
and go along with it. I’m sorry if I offend people
by not going out there and painting the big A on
my jacket [populist punk sign denoting
anarchy], or hanging out and signing with
Backstreet Records or some crazy company.
Because I’ve done it! I’ve done that and it doesn’twork. Or rather it does work but you don’t get
paid for it. It’s not what I want. I’m not being
honest with myself. But I would stick by
every song, every note and every wordthat I ever said. And still say.”
It’s not just Adam, however, who issticking to his past. Both Decca and Do It
are busy scrubbing around for old Adammaterial. Decca are going to have to go tocourt for their troubles and fight Adam
for it. The problems with Do It, Adam
hopes, can be resolved amicably outof court. CBS meanwhile, as well as
reissuing “Kings” owing to publicdemand, and with Adam’s blessing, arepreparing for the release next month ofthe… gasp… swoon… faint… new Adam
Ant single entitled “Stand And Deliver”.
“When Joe Strummer heard it,” laughs
Adam, “he said, ‘What’s he doing now?

The Milkman or something?’ It’s really funny;
I really liked that, that was a great bit of humour.
I’m very pleased with the lyric and I’m very pleased
with the sound. That’s from an album that we’ve
written; Marco and I have written the next album
and I think people are going to be a bit surprisedwith what we’re going to do. The video with thissingle is very important. It’s the first video single for me. I worked with
Mike Mansfield and he’s great.
“It really illustrates the lyrics, which are about not being intimidated byany fashion. Really it’s an Errol Flynn video! I just wanted to do all thethings I like seeing in movies in a three-minute video. It’s like a threeminute Hollywood movie and it involved hiring a horse and a real
16th-century carriage and going in a wood in the freezing cold, jumping
through a plate-glass window, doing all these kind of nutty things. And
you really did endanger your life jumping out of trees. There’s no way I
could fake that, and I like the idea of actually making the effort.”
So it’s highwaymen now, is it, I cynically ask.
“No” says Adam firmly. “We’re not going from anything to anythingelse. We’re just going to incorporate everything I’ve done. This look is theincorporation of four different makeups I’ve done in the last three years.”
His tone is calm and cool, his vision clear. Whatever you think of him,
Adam knows exactly what he’s doing. “It’s always pandemonium,” hesays about his new lifestyle as an ’80s pop star, “and I know artisticallythat I wouldn’t feel as calm if I hadn’t written the next album with Marcoalready. I’m always trying to think ahead.”
If that’s true, then where Adam sees his music heading will dismay a lotof people. “If I can push it a bit more into showbiz I’ll be a very happy man,because it will be a very sad day when showbiz is a dirty word. At the
moment it’s just ‘if you’ve got the time, you’ve got the money’. And there
you have it,” Adam says smiling. “Two new lyrics.”
Talking of which, what do you do with your money, Adam?
“Apart from spending it on lawsuits, I haven’t seen it yet.” He pauses.
“I’m sure other people will ask me for it before I get it.”
It’s time for the show.
dam and The Ants’ first gig in three months, with Gary
Tibbs on bass for the first time, was sheer pandemonium.
The sell-out crowd went bananas every time he moved. Theband put on a real spectacle and Adam got more cheers for taking off
his shirt than for any song.
Clearly he’s a sex symbol first and a musician
second. For some. For others, the Ants soundis one of the most provocative around. For
Lynn, a receptionist at the hotel Adam wasstaying in, it was his looks and body first,
music second.
For Dexys Midnight Runners standing at
the back of the hall, who knows? I should haveasked them but got lost in the crowd. In fact
I nearly got trampled on in that crowd. But
that’s only to be expected. At present Adam
Ant is the hottest thing in showbiz anywhere.
A fulfilment of a thousand fantasies.
Afterwards, on the coach, slumped in hisseat and the greasepaint running down
his face, he declared the gig a draw.
Halfway through the show he could
feel his legs going and consequently
couldn’t move that well.
He let out a groan and the German
reporter siting behind him said, “Therevas not much leaping around tonight,
Adam. Ja?”
Adam just grinned and took anotherswig of Pepsi-Cola.
Over steak and chips, Adam Ant
looked up from his food and said to me,‘Did you ever get that feeling of ‘I told
you so’? There you are, mate – I knew
I was right.”
He pops in another chip. Adam Ant ishome and dry. Paolo Hewitt •A“I’ve always
wanted goodmerchandise,to play a classjoint, have fun”

AQAM

AND

THE

ANTS

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 51

1981

a p r i l – J U NE

“Not anunfriendly
group”
With Pink Floyd’s PA
in tow, THE CURE set
out to convert audiences
to their new, spacier,sound. Interviewed:
a well-adjusted,
intelligent unit. “It’s notlike we’re saying, ‘Oh
we’re alienated,’” says
Robert Smith. “We just
don’t feel like that.”— MELODY MAKER MAY 2 —I
ray stevenson / getty

52 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

t happened two nights running. the Cure
were about four numbers into their set. as theypaused for breath between songs, yells went up
round the hall – “Forest!” “primary!”, “10.15
Saturday night!” we’ve paid our money and wewant hits, dammit.
Singer and guitarist Robert Smith stepped to themicrophone and said: “this one’s called ‘the Funeralparty’.” I thought I saw a hint of a smile. Backstage at the
new theatre in oxford, drummer Lol (or Lawrence)
tolhurst is recuperating from a brisk conveyor-belt stintof autograph signing with the aid of a bottle of vodka. his
disciplined, lucid percussion bears an equal share of theweight in Cure’s sound, joining Simon Gallup’s sharpedged bass and Robert Smith’s open-ended guitar andsynth work to complete a finely balanced equation. withthe band’s third album, Faith, vaulting up the charts, anda new single “primary” they’d just played on Top Of Pops, »Robert Smith: “TheCure’s like a reflectionof our lives, it’s not theother way round”

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 53

1981

a p r i l – J U NE

“It’s like being married”:
Smith with drummer
and Cure co-founder
Lol Tollhurst (left) andthe group’s second
bassist, Simon Gallup

The Cure’s dressing room has been
besieged by autograph hunters. The
majority are shy girls aged about 14, therest are serious young men. Some of themhad met the band earlier in the day when
they visited the Music Market record shop. Drummer Tolhurst treats it allwith amicable detachment.
“We always sign autographs, because we think, ‘Well, it doesn’t cost us
anything, and if it gives someone pleasure for a couple of days, why not?’”
He apologises for talking too much. There’s little or no artifice about
The Cure. They’ve received a certain amount of flak for their aura ofseriousness and lack of dedication to the things which supposedly makerock’n’roll a “celebration” – sex & drugs & drinks & stomach ulcers &inhalation of vomit.
There’s no denying that much of their music is sombre, but I’m
surprised at just how friendly and uncomplicated the three musiciansare – even the enigmatic Smith. His problem is that he delivers his jokes soquietly that it’s easy to miss them.
The previous night found The Cure in Brighton – more or less a hometown gig, since the band come from Crawley.
Smith was disappointed that the crowd had
apparently come expecting a greatest-hits
package (though the band’s current set includes
most of the yelled-for numbers anyway).
Smith points out that The Cure always playsome of their older material to give audiences
a frame of reference, but he’s at a loss tounderstand why new songs are often treatedas filler to be endured before the old favourites
at the end of the set.
“You should really go and see a groupexpecting something different. Otherwise you
may as well listen to our records, ’cos the sound’s
a lot better generally than it is on stage and weplay a lot better.”
Simon Gallup adds: “People don’t go and buy books they’ve already
read, or buy records they’ve already got.”
But of course The Cure aren’t the only band to feel burdened byaudience expectation. It would be surprising if they weren’t. In their case,the problem has been compounded by their abrupt change of musicalstyle since their 1979 debut album, Three Imaginary Boys.
It was produced by Chris Parry, to whose Fiction Records the band arestill signed, and who continues to work with The Cure in a more-or-lessmanagerial role. Parry, in collusion with engineer Mike Hedges, dida smart but misleading job on …Boys. The album’s 12 tracks were sparse,
twitching pop, all chicken-wire guitar, neurotic bass and post-punk
vocals. I loved it, but when the follow-up, Seventeen Seconds, appeared,
it came as a shock. Gone were the succinct and snappy songs, replaced bylonger and less-defined pieces. The prevailing mood was brown bleeding
into grey. I didn’t like it at all.
Now there’s Faith, very much a progression from “Seventeen Seconds”
but introducing a sense of measured power and completeness. Bothalbums saw Mike Hedges stepping into the producer’s shoes, first in
tandem with Robert Smith, and most recently with all three Curists.
“I like Seventeen Seconds,” says Smith, struggling to be heard over theprotesting whine of the band’s hired Transit van. “I much preferred it toThree Imaginary Boys. There were only so many songs on the first album
because they were drawn from the two years before we recorded it. The
songs we always preferred were “Three Imaginary Boys” itself,“Accuracy” and “10.15 Saturday Night”. If they’d been expanded, any of
those songs could have fitted on Seventeen Seconds.
“As it was, most of the songs on Imaginary… were really embryonic, they
were just put down. They were very naive. It
worked in that way, but the whole thing was toomuch like a compilation album.”If that sounds far-fetched, try to catch theband live, because the proof is there. Songs
from the first album like “Grinding Halt”,“Fire In Cairo” and the title track are fleshedout, their original diagrammatic form shaped
into something smoother and more fluid.
“Accuracy” pivots round an elasticallyswinging pulse, while the band rip open thetense throb of “10.15” to unleash fierce chunksof controlled energy.
Though he feels that Chris Parry exerted far
too much influence over the sound and shapeof Three Imaginary Boys, Robert Smith isn’t too
unhappy about it in retrospect.
“If we’d produced it ourselves it would’ve sounded completely different.
It would have been a much softer album, and maybe it wouldn’t have had
as much impact. So it was good in a way that Chris did produce it, because
it threw a perspective on the songs that we’d never seen before, and so we
could always see how we wanted to develop.”
Since those days, both band and sound have changed. Original bassist
Michael Dempsey quit following The Cure’s traumatic tour with Siouxsie

pETER mazEl / REx fEaTuREs“It would be
impossible forsomeone else
to fit into The
Cure now”

54 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

the cure

aving re-established a coherent and intimate groupstructure – creative input is split three ways, though Smith
feeds in the bulk of the original ideas – The Cure are now
looking for different ways of presenting themselves. The current tour iscalled “Picture Tour” because, instead of a support band, The Cure areshowing a half-hour film called Carnage Visitors every night,
accompanied by a specially written soundtrack. The film is a chunk ofblack-and-white animation, made by Simon Gallup’s brother Ric, who’sa model maker. Unsurprisingly, the film features Ric’s own models.
“He’s like a mad person out of a fairy tale, “explains Smith. Simon
Gallup doesn’t punch him in the mouth. “He sits in his garage making
strange models. The idea to have a film was there when we were making
Seventeen Seconds. People often think you’re being
self-indulgent when groups talk about making
films, but there’s a lot of ideas that spill over frommaking records. It’s not like you can just makemusic, because it doesn’t work like that, there’s lotsof other things.
“The Cure’s like a reflection of our lives, it’s not theother way round, so we’re not trapped in a group. It
seems stupid to limit it just to music.”
But though Smith claims to like the film because
it’s naive, the accompanying music carries it. It’s asingle piece, built on a gradually evolving rhythmic
pattern which sounds a little too much like Pink
Floyd for comfort (if you buy a copy of Faithon cassette, you get a cassette of the film
music thrown in free).
Smith explains that it was composed in
one night, using a rhythm box and a bass
guitar which had gone out of tune. “We’renot psychedelic,” he says. “We don’t takepsychedelic drugs…”
Though it’s hardly a revolutionary idea touse film, it works because it lets The Cureshape the mood of the whole evening.
Smith explores the topic of support bands.
“There were lots of reasons for not having
support bands. On the last tour we did,
we put a thing in the music papers sayingthat any local bands that would like to playwith us should send a tape in, and we chosea local band from each town we played in.
Some of ’em were really good and it worked
really well.

H“But the trouble is if we arrive late for a soundcheck or something goes
wrong, we’ve got to make the choice – either the support band getsa soundcheck and you get half as long as you need, so your sound’s
awful and the audience is disappointed and they may not even like thesupport group. Or the support group doesn’t get a soundcheck and you
get a good one and the audience is pissed off all the way through thesupport act because they can’t hear anything.
“And then we were worrying about why there should be such things as
support groups anyway, and a main band, and how can you justify who isbetter than who…”
So goodbye support bands, at least for the time being. Having taken
the decision that a Cure gig will be The Cure, the complete Cure andnothing but The Cure, are the band equipped to handle that amount ofresponsibility? I suppose it’s a foregone conclusion that the answer is yes,and the reason for that is essentially Robert Smith’s determination.
hOUgh he’s Only 22, Smith possesses a steely intensity of
purpose which has already seen the band through its changesof style and personnel. Since they started, The Cure have always
taken the long view – no dizzying record company advances, no efforts
to cash in with quick commercial singles and even a refusal to put in
extended periods of time as a support act to other bands. They’ve
pursued their own track with dogged single-mindedness.
“I don’t think it’s generally a good idea to be a support band,” says Smithmatter-of-factly, “because you can get locked into that feeling of being
inferior. Also, audiences are generally lukewarm towards support
groups, unless it’s a whole package like the Final Solution things where
the audience is probably equally divided between wanting to see one offour or five bands.
“Until the Banshees tour we’d never really been a support act, and onthat one we were more like special guests. There were usually three bands
on, and we didn’t wanna be, like, the Banshees’ support group.”
At the same time, the band haven’t been afraid to steer away from therelatively commercial feel of their first album in pursuit of a sound whichowes nothing to any of the more bankable musical tangents which are
currently doing the rounds.
As the musical landscape becomes increasingly fragmented into subgroups trying to grab a piece of the ever-diminishing commercial action,
The Cure have veered off in the opposite direction. Their music has
become increasingly moody and atmospheric. They don’t hurry.
Smith: “That’s something somebody criticised us
for about a week ago, saying that maybe we were
getting flabby in that the songs were getting longer.
But I don’t see why, if you don’t even claim to beworking within a pop format, you should have toconform to the idea of a three-minute song.
“People say, ‘Oh, you can put down anything
within three minutes, any emotion’, which isprobably true. You can probably put down any
emotion in 15 seconds if you just say it, y’know,‘I feel sad’ with a tribal drum beat behind it. But it’s
just developing an idea – it’s not revolutionary, it’s
been going on for hundreds of years – but I think if »

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CREDIT& The Banshees, when two Banshees went AWOL and Smith ended up
playing guitar with both Siouxsie and The Cure. Dempsey, now with The
Associates, was replaced by Simon Gallup, with keyboard player
Matthieu Hartley joining at the same time. Hartley cashed in his chips
after recording Seventeen Seconds and touring Australasia, leaving The
Cure as a trio again. It works best that way.
“It’s like realising that there isn’t gonna be anyone to fill the fourth
position anyway,” says Smith. “It would be impossible for someone else
to fit into The Cure now, really, because it’s so insular it’s untrue. It would
take somebody about 10 years to be accepted, I think, on the same levelthat we accept each other.
“And it’s so open between the three of us – there are no secrets. It’s likebeing married in a way. It’s that type of intensity that you have to build up.
’Cos I’ve known Lol since I was five and I’ve known Simon for about six
years now.
“I sometimes think a fourth instrument would be nice, but only
because I’m playing the guitar and singing, and sometimes I just wish
I could stop playing the guitar for a song or a coupla songs and not have to
do anything except sing.
“But when it’s balanced up, that’s the only advantage to having a fourth
member – the disadvantages roll into the hundreds.”
Matthieu Hartley, it seems, had trouble accepting a role which at times
could best be described as “peripheral”. Simon Gallup also had toundergo a rethink when he joined the band.
“In a way I had to un-learn a lot of things, because I used to like playing
eight notes a second or something. But now I don’t really care any more –I play one note a minute now.”SDECIAL CURE RECOHDEO "USINCLUDINC
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1981

a p r i l – J U NE

you’ve got an idea which you think is good, you should allow it to develop
itself. And you also lose the idea of verse/chorus/middle eight/chorus/
end in a song, and getting away from that is really important to us.”
It’s enough to make Mickie Most opt for voluntary euthanasia. But The
Cure do what they must do and they do it well. Even if Smith protests withmock disgust that all Lol Tolhurst ever does is eat and smoke Marlboros,
The Cure have booked themselves an open-ended ticket on the train outof Crawley and nobody gets left behind.
“We’re not an unfriendly group really, are we?” Robert Smith asks me,
only half rhetorically. “I think we’re quite friendly.”
And I think it matters to him. Adam Sweeting— NME MAY 16 —T’S a pERfECT day for brooding along with The Cure, a muggy
limbo neither too hot nor too cold, the sky’s overcast but not grey
enough for rain and anyway the three Cures and this NME quack
are already sheltered inside the group’s shoddy white tour bus.
Parked next to the dank canal behind Chelmsford Odeon, the bus isdwarfed by the giant purple and yellow articulated truck that hauls thePA equipment they’ve hired – so drummer Lol Tolhurst blithely reveals –from Pink Floyd.
“We’re using possibly the best PA in England,” states Robert Smith, theirquietly confident guitarist, for reasons that will become apparent in a
moment. Bearing in mind the first time we met – three years ago in a
Surrey hotel lounge where The Cure were playing with a skeleton set-up
that would make the buskin’ Shakin’ Pyramids appear overdressed –we’re both aware of the change in the trio’s material circumstances.
Smith obviously more so, thanks to the stream of malicious comparisonssome have drawn between their moody new music and the bloated Pig
Floaters from whom they’ve hired a PA.
These comparisons invariably come from those who nurtured The
Cure as a trio of loveable whackos who composed skimpy oddballnuggets like “Killing An Arab” – a wonderful three-minute résumé of
Albert Camus’ The Outsider – “Plastic Passion”, “Boys Don’t Cry” and“Fire In Cairo”. Just out of school and good-looking too, they were every
jaded cynic’s dream combo: witty, bright and trashy enough to epitomise
the over-lauded garage-band ethic.
But none of their singles hit and after 18 months of trying it looked
like The Cure were destined for obscure cult status. So when they
disappeared everybody assumed them to be a spent force. Wrongly, itturned out, as The Cure returned with a hit LP, Seventeen Seconds, andsingle, “A Forest”, which on the surface were far less commercial thantheir debut LP, Three Imaginary Boys.
Seventeen Seconds was more an extended 12-inch single than an LP;
it was one melancholic mood sustained through a series of songs bya specific drum sound. The vitality
and likeable mistakes of the first LP
had been replaced by somethingequally, though less noticeably
youthful: broken love. The mood, it
seems, continues through to theirlatest LP, Faith. Even sadder andgloomier, it concerns itself withageing, loss of innocence and death.
Their fans argue that The Cure havematured, their critics that they’ve“progressed”. Predictably for this trio,
they provide easier and cheaper fuelfor their detractors than theirchampions. The new mood music
demands greater precision, there isless margin for error. Thus theexpensive PA, acutely conscious
though the trio are how the leap insize and quality of hardware would
be taken.
Let’s return to the back of the bus
and seek some kind of assurance
from Smith.
“We’re careful to avoid [sounding
empty],” he cautiously says, “though
it wouldn’t seem that way from theebet roberts / gettyI56 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

pomp rock-style trucks. After we hired the PA we had a day at Shepperton
to see how it would look all set up. It was really absurd seeing it all, 10
times bigger than the equipment we usually use. But then we got tothinking we’ve always gone on tour with equipment breaking down.
And at the moment it’s reliability we want.”
Earlier, noticing my eyes latching onto the giant articulated truck,
drummer Tolhurst gleefully anticipated a headline: “From punk topomp,” he joked. I laughed. When were The Cure ever punks?
HE CURE bElONg to that comprehensively educatedamorphous mass that has replaced the traditional middle classand now stretches to include the swelling ranks of young
unemployed, the children of shopfloor workers, office workers,
executives, teachers and middle-grade civil servants. It’s massive andstill on the rise, yet it’s one that pop groups – The Kinks and Fad Gadget
excepted – are most reluctant to align themselves with.
Despite its size and scope, few have successfully explored it, finding itmuch easier to reinforce the stereotypes using the ready-to-wear
language of Sun headlines. The Cure, however, simply sidestep thedogmas they feel no affinity with and touch instead upon the habits andemotions of this anonymous majority. Though they make no attempt to
disguise their roots, they never get maudlin or soppy about them. They
maintain a sufficient detachment to write accurately enough to involve
them, going by the size and makeup of their audience. Evidently theirschoolboy readings of Camus have stood them in good stead.
Does Smith still feel as, er, alienated as the murderer in “Killing An Arab”?
No, he replies, but “since we don’t live in London we haven’t got drawn
into that whole rock’n’roll myth. So for us it is still normal and that’s thewhole point. It’s just like normality with a detached view, because it’s notlike we’re trapped there. We travel a lot and when we return we’re almost
like observers in our own home, which is what gives our songs the air ofdetachment. It’s not like we’re saying, ‘Oh, we’re alienated,’ or things like
that, because we just don’t feel like that.”
Detached though they feel – living in suburban Crawley, West Sussex –there’s a dreamy quality about their music that falls short of the troubling
introspection of Joy Division copyists, therefore dispelling anotherpopular convention: that of the troubled, starving artist. Smith exudes
a positive air that is implied by choosing Faith as the title of their new LP.
“Yeah, I’m confident – to the degree of nausea sometimes,” Smithsmiles. “It’s just second nature to me. Confidence is usually frowned
upon, but I don’t know why. It’s like the stereotype of the cowering
Kafkaesque figure, forever nervous. I mean, you can feel those emotions,but still feel confident that you’ll win through. If you think you’re notgoing to, then why bother?”Smith doesn’t deny that he’s had it easier than some. When he left
school he chose to stay unemployed for eight months before therelease of “Killing An Arab” and wasfortunate that, unlike many of his
contemporaries, his parents didn’t
July 23, 1981:
pressurise him into a complex about
preceded by a short
it by insisting he worked or left home.
animated film,
Carnage Visors,“It came to the point where I’d
The Cure play theirrather have killed myself than get
set at The Ritz in
New York Citya job,” he asserts. “I told Social
Security to give the jobs to those thatwant them, that I’d rather stay athome listening to music, but they’dtell me I had to work and I’d just ask,
‘Why?’ Which is the point mostpeople don’t get.”He does realise that such a decision
isn’t so easy for others, but he can’t
see the point of wallowing in misery,
when unemployment should be– as Bow Wow Wow and others are
discovering – far more enjoyable thanworking in dull jobs, providing you
can stretch those Social Security
cheques to cover your needs.
Smith jokes: “I brewed homemadelager so I wouldn’t have to spend a lotof money drinking, which is a good
hint for all you out-of-work people.”

T

�o
�.:

�.
HE CURE aURa of comfort shouldn’t be mistaken forcomplacency. It often is and often causes resentment. Because
The Cure have never fitted into any tribe or attempted to follow
any fad, critics find them difficult to pin down. Their clothes don’t
help, being an odd mixture of nothing and everything that has gone
down in the past few years.
Today, Robert Smith is wearing a leather jacket that makes his arms
hang like Yogi Bear’s and baggy trousers, while his hair’s pushed back intoa never-witnessed-before porcupine spray. Lol Tolhurst’s outrageously
voluminous trousers and mismatched, smart jacket enhance his
reputation as Cure fall guy and comic. “The Cure confident?” asks Smith.
“Lol’s not confident, but then he uses the wrong brand of toothpaste.”Bassist Simon Gallup’s cowboy punk clothing is offset by cutely
made-up doe eyes.
The audience that turn up to Chelmsford are similarly difficult tocategorise. Hardcore punks mingle with peacocks attracted to thesynthetic strands of their music and the High Street teens whose conceptof fashion stretches to the latest lines at
Marks & Spencer. It’s a cross section that
The Cure cherish, one arrived at without
overt wooing or compromise. There’s noCure-look for them to emulate and indeed few
new tunes in the current repertoire that they
can go home humming.
The combination of The Cure’s own cosy
backgrounds and a non-aligned, apparently
uncommitted audience upsets some, whosesneers have not only been stupidly dismissive,
but downright condescending.
“Somebody who did a review of us at London’s
Dominion said all the audience looked like Noel
Edmonds,” recalls Smith. “He’s supposedly thestereotype of the people who go and see The
Cure. It’s just not true, but anyway it’s only fashion that made him saythat. It’s really frustrating trying to get through that initial wariness ofpeople saying, ‘Oh, what do they look like and where do they come from?’
It’s irrelevant. I don’t know the backgrounds of any of the groups I like.
Their songs affect me and that’s enough.”T��.

July 5, 1981: The
Cure appear at
the Rock Torhout
festival in Belgium

latter to the likes of the gloomy “The Funeral Party”. More pointedly,
The Cure have dispensed with support groups in order to diminish theodds of the mood being shattered by inapposite outfits.
They’ve replaced it with Carnage Visors, a short animated film made bySimon Gallup’s brother Ric. It’s not very good, just a series of evolving
shapes for people to look at, while Smith’s austere soundtrack further
imposes the correct conditions for The Cure’s entrance. Isn’t all this talkof pre-conditioning disturbing? Not really, as it’s basically motivated by
the urge to provide a coherent evening’s entertainment.
“At least we’ve got some say over what kind of mood the audience arein, so we can start off from the same point every night and go off on atangent from there,” explains Smith. “On previous tours we would go on
into a pre-conditioned environment, but one created by the support
band, not us.”
The Cure’s delicately forceful music deserves that early break, meaning
new songs aren’t lost early on while winning over the audience. Songs like
“Primary”, which might pinpoint The Cure’s coming of age, are far
removed from the naivety of their earlier songs.
As likeable as those favourites are, they don’t
really fit into The Cure’s current set, but
unfortunately they’re interspersed with newer
songs, somehow shattering the moods thegroup have so conscientiously established.
Why do they do them?
“I think it’s nice remembering things,”
says Smith. “Having old songs is like having
old photographs, you can look back on how
you used to feel. I can remember what we felt
the first time we played them, and that helps
prevent me from getting out of control.”And self-control, even discipline, is very
important to The Cure, especially their music.
Their playing is excellent, their skills always
subordinated to the simple demands of the songs. A pop sensibility
and that pervasive beat renders all comparisons with the pomp ofprevious generations absurd.
A bit precious, perhaps? Only if viewed from the suffocating narrowconfines of nouveau punk.
“The preciousness doesn’t worry me,” says Smith, puffing his chestout aggressively and pulling his fists back ready for action. “WHO’S
BEING PRECIOUS NOW, PAL?” he snarls.
You really shouldn’t allow yourselves to be threatened by The Cure.

URE CONCERTS lEavE very little to chance. As soon as people
enter the auditorium they’re taken in hand by taped musicguaranteed to create the right ambience. The music ranges
from Jimi Hendrix to Gregorian chants – spot the importance of theC

Chris Bohn •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 57

andre csillag / rex features“Yeah, I’m
confident –to the degreeof nausea
sometimes”

1981

a p r i l – J U NE

“I think that everythingthat’s happened is like apreview of what’s going tohappen”: Bob Dylan
photographed at Kentucky
Dam Village State Park, 1981

58 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981»

“Satan’s
working
everywhere”“Do you remember ‘Visions Of Johanna’?” BOB DYLAN asks. Sure we do.
And so begins a conversation about music, politics and – significantly –faith. “The real enemy is a spiritual being people can’t see,” he explains.

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 59

1981
RWk

a p r i l – J U NE

rex features

H— NME AUGUST 15 —armonicas play the skeleton keys of the rainthat drapes Munich in grey drizzle for Bob Dylan’s
two-day stay in the city.
Our Mercedes taxi splashes its way through sodden
streets toward the muzzled grey modernist shapes of
the Olympic complex built to house the ’74 games andwhere tonight’s show will be staged, in the splendid indoor sports arena,
to an audience of several thousand.
Munich is the 11th stop on a European tour that will take in eight
countries and 23 shows, around a third of them in Britain. Being in thebusiness of a ceaseless quest for a Bob Dylan interview (one of several
score, if not hundred), I get to see shows in Paris, London and Munichwhere the quest will, to an extent, be realised; a brief backstage rencontre
being promised by Dylan’s management.
This was Dylan’s sixth or seventh visit to Europe in his 20-year career
and this time round it was different. A lot has changed since Dylan lasttrod Albion’s shores, not least the social and cultural fabric of Britain itself.
The expected media fanfare came, but it was muted in comparison tothat afforded the ’78 trip, when Dylan was seen as the consensus of theongoing “rock” tradition handed downfrom the ’60s; still the enigmatic andunrepentant rebel carrying thestandards of alienation, protest andemotional and spiritual exploration
forward into the future.
This time it was Bruce Springsteen’s
turn to be fêted as a visiting American
superstar supreme, likewise set at theheart of a rock tradition whose myths
are, for a growing number of young
Europeans, now despoiled, overtakenby everyday reality or the new myths ofpunk and post-punk.
The national press, radio and TV didn’t
seem to know quite how to respond to thenew, Christian Bob Dylan; and for them it wasa case of better the cosy fantasy scenarios oflast-chance power drives down endless
American highways than the uncomfortable
moral imperatives of Dylan’s new kingdom.
Dylan’s refusal to bow to the myths of rock– he’d always kept an ambiguous, open relation
with “rock” anyway, what with his folk roots, thefrequent diversions into country, blues andanything else that took his fancy – and his
insistence on his personal salvation had cost
him heavy with critics and fans.
To some of them, any type of born-again
Christianity smacked of US president Ronald
Reagan’s “moral majority”, even though Dylan’s
new songs have consistently spelt out an antiestablishment stance, the protest era rekindled
if anything. There again, any spiritual values
smack of humbug to a sometimes desensitised
youth culture, more caught up with thematerialist and consumer values it professes todespise than perhaps it realises or cares to admit.
Christian or not, in the gritty business of
attracting paying customers, there are few artists
able to command the allegiance that Dylan still
does, and ugly rumours of unsold tickets finallygave way to near-capacity audiences. Around
120,000 saw the British shows.
As at Earls Court, a hard look at the Munich
crowd reveals plenty of original Dylan fans,many contemporaries now advancing into
affluent middle age. Many more, no doubt,
couldn’t meet the commitment of tickets,transport and babysitters. The younger fansthat Dylan has always attracted seem more
prominent at the Continental shows, where rock60 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

tradition and contemporary protest – the German peace and eco
movements and their equivalents in France, Benelux and Scandinavia– have not diverged the way they have in little ol’ post-industrial UK.
It hasn’t all been “watching the scenery go past the windows”, though,as Dylan describes the touring process. A Danish daily paper ran a frontpage story attacking Dylan, accusing him of paranoia and claiming hekept a veritable squad of Israeli bodyguards on hand to assuage his fearof assassination. Dylan was so incensed by the story, he called an
impromptu press conference in north Germany where he denied thatJohn Lennon’s slaying had provoked any panic in him.
“I might as easily be run over by a truck or something,” went the tone of
his reply. I never did see more than a couple of security chaps, backstage
or front.
Otherwise, Dylan’s European jaunt can be safely judged a success. It
didn’t even rain at the sometimes optimistically staged open-air shows –aides speak of the way it’s, ahem, miraculously stopped raining an houror so before showtime, recalling some of the talk I’d heard around Marley
tours. (“He had a voice that could really touch you,” Dylan says to me later
when he crops up in conversation. The two never actually met, however.)
Dylan’s strategy on this tour has been to present a set that straddles
almost his entire career, harking back to his coffeehouse days on
numbers like “Barbara Allen”, “Girl From The North Country”,
featuring a healthy slug of ’60s hits – “Like A Rolling Stone”,“Tambourine Man”, “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue” – and“It’s so immediate, itchanges the wholeconcept of art to me”:
Dylan on the significanceof live performance, 1981

bob dylan

reserving pride of place for his post-conversion
songs, to which he seems to bring an extra
vocal commitment.
His singing this time round was quite
astonishing, clearly superior to all his many
past styles, from all of which he borrows forthe present. With the horn section of ’78 now
thankfully nudged out – the present group is
more supple and understated – the harmonica
has found new favour. Indeed, the acoustic andharp spots were among the most affecting of theshow. You could almost hear the audience gasp
unbelieving joy every time he picked up his
acoustic guitar, feel them tingle whenever Bob
whipped a mouth-harp from a pocket and pipedthat crazy, angular, plaintive harmonica music of his round the hall.
At a time when conventional rock performance is increasingly derided
by many musicians and fans, to Dylan it seems that the performance isthe crucible of his art, an all-important testing point.
“It’s so immediate, it changes the whole concept of art to me,” he tells
me later.
Hearing him draw from that awesome vault of material he’s stockpiled
over the last two-score years, it was impossible not to marvel at the sheer
volume and quality of his writing. Never did “Masters Of War” sound more
apt than in the precipitous war-mongering climate of the present. Other
songs – “Like A Rolling Stone” being the obvious one – seemed likewise toacquire a new resonance in the light of Dylan’s Christian beliefs.
Dylan’s new material continues to reflect his Christianity, though thesongs of the new LP, Shot Of Love, are less directly devotional in theirapproach, taking the Christian code as the bedrock of his observations
rather than merely preaching, as Saved too often did. Dylan’s enthusiasm
for his new record is only intermittently contagious, but certainly thealbum boasts some of his finest work in years, particularly the touchingmelancholic “Grain Of Sand”, where Dylan’s retrospection over his life
leads him to state “No inclination to look back on any mistake/As I hold thischain of events that I must break.”
The new songs – which may or may not be called “Angelina” (a title
already fabled among fans) and “Caribbean Wind” – he mentioned in
my interview sound exciting, promising a fusion of his ’60s sound of theBlonde On Blonde era and his ’80s sensibilities. One aide spoke of the newsongs “being as prophetic in their way as the old ones… Maybe their realtime will be some way ahead in the future.”
Whatever one may feel about Dylan’s conversion – and the ridicule anddepth of scorn to which he has been subjected for his beliefs is unfair – it’s
obvious that we will need some kind of spiritual dimension to our credo if
we really are to build the New Jerusalem among the dark, satanic mills.
For all that, I was a little taken aback when the man took exception tohaving a “Christian label” attached to him when he has so virulently
informed everyone of his religious beliefs. People don’t constantly refer toPete Townshend as a Meher Baba follower, because he’s always kept his
beliefs in context. End of sermon.

I remark that “Maggie’s Farm” is a popularsong in Britain these days, and Dylan and thebassman, who’s also present, exchange blanklooks before the bassie mumbles “Maggie
Thatcher” and they break into laughter, me
wondering about the slow association after
a week playing down on the farm itself.
He’d heard about The Specials’ version but
wasn’t familiar with it. He mumbles something
about “punk waves and new waves” as he packs
his stuff, before offering, “I like George’s song.”“George?”“Boy, George’s song is great.”
Oh, George Harrison. (It transpires the two
spent some time together on Dylan’s stay,
inspiring him to play “Here Comes The Sun” at one Earls Court gig. One
wonders whether they discussed Monty Python’s Life Of Brian, which
Harrison financed.) I mumble something about whether he thinks theold songs seem to get new meaning in the light of changing times and his
new beliefs, and Dylan fixes me with a piercing look.
“I’m different,” he says. “The songs are the same.
“The songs don’t mean that much to me, actually,” he continues.
“I wrote them and I sing them…”
There’s nothing from Desire or Street Legal, though.
“We could do a completely different set with completely different songs.
They’re all old songs, even the ones from Slow Train… are old now.
“I tell you, though, I feel very strongly about this show. I feel it has
something to offer. No one else does this show, not Bruce Springsteen
or anyone.”Was he surprised at the amount of hostility the conversion to
Christianity had brought?
“Not surprised at all. I’m just surprised to hear applause every
time I play. I appreciate that. You can feel everything that comes off
an audience… little individual things that are going on. It’s a very
instant thing.”
Outside, the tour bus is ticking over and filling up with musicians androad crew, and one of the gospel quartet is doing a soft-shoe shuffle in
the rain. Tomorrow, comes the word, is a proper interview, at the hotel.
Maybe.
I went to see the gypsy, staying in a big hotel in the centre of the town,
where the occasional appearance of a denim-clad roadie provides
colourful contrast to the assembled grey ranks of German businessmen.
Pre-match nerves vanish as I trot out onto the turf of Dylan’s fourthfloor suite. To one side, a TV flickers without sound. Dylan wanders inwearing a black leather jacket and white jeans, and we start committing
words to tape. He talks slowly, his speaking voice deeper than you’d
expect from his singing, and not at all like sand and glue. The replies
come carefully considered and usually as evasive and noncommittal as
we’ve come to expect over the years.

“I feel verystrongly about
this show. It
has something
to offer”

In the empty lot backstage in the athlete’s changing area, Bert,
a Dutch Dylanologist from Oor magazine, and I are lined up for ourbrief audience with Dylan.
“Oh God,” comes the unmistakeable voice through the open door of the
dressing room as an aide reminds him of our impending presence and wecatch a glimpse of Dylan pulling on a sock.
A minute later and we’re shaking hands with the maestro, who seems
as nervous as we are, with the air of a man slowly exhaling the potent
adrenalin charge of two hours on stage at the hub of 7,000 people’s
attention. His stage threads – black trousers, the satin bomber jacket
with its curious golden design – lie limply across a chair, Dylan now
wearing a sloppy white sweatshirt, jeans and training shoes.
He looks beefier and stronger than all those “wiry little cat” descriptionsof history suggest, more sporty; the scene seems almost collegiate. Theeyes are large, washed-out electric blue, and riveting, still topped by thegreat burst of locks.
We chat about the show, which Dylan didn’t like – “You couldn’t hearanything and the audience was kinda strange; you should have been atlast night’s show” – and about press reaction to the show. Dylan seems tofeel the papers gave him a hard time whatever he does with the old songs:“You just can’t win.”ns: someone told me you’d been working with smokey robinson. isthat right?
BD: No… we were doing a session, along with Ringo and Willy, as he wasrehearsing across the street with his new band, a new show. I’d seen him
on the street going in, so we went out on a break and said hello.
you didn’t work with him?
No.
are you pleased with the new album?
The last time I heard it I was. I haven’t heard it since I left for Chicago.
Which was at the beginning of June. I was satisfied enough to leave town.
the sound is a lot rawer. a much looser sound.
Well, I had more control over this record… That’s the type of record I liketo make. I just haven’t been able to make them.
Why’s that?
Well, usually, I’ve been working quickly in the studio, and for one reason
or another I just get locked into whoever’s producing, their sound, and I
just wanna get it over with.
Who produced this one?
Chuck [Plotkin] and myself produced it. Bumps Blackwell did Shot Of
Love with me, which he helped with a great deal. You remember him?
no, who’s that?
Bumps did all the early Little Richard records and Don & Dewey
records; he handled all the Speciality records. »HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 611981

a p r i l – J U NE

June 21, 1981: Dylan withbassist Tim Drummondin Toulouse, France,on the first date of
the European tour topromote Shot Of Love

That’s the rockiest track, right? The rest is bluesy, or some of it hasa reggae lilt. Do you still like reggae?
There’s not much difference between country and reggae when you
take away the bass and the drums; they’re very similar.
You’ve always seemed to have one foot in rock’n’roll, Little Richard
and all that, and the other in blues, folk, country, traditions…
Well, I love it all, whatever might be popular at the moment.
Do you still do everything in a couple of takes?
On this album we did.
I’d heard you like to work in a very spontaneous way.
With this new band we can usually work very quickly with a new tune.
Is it nearer your “mercurial sound” with this band?
Yeah… it’s a little hard to produce that on stage of course. The only time
we were able to do that was with The Band on those Bob Dylan & The
Band tours in the ’60s. Because the sound back then was so raw andprimitive, the sound systems wouldn’t give us anything else. And when
The Beatles played, you could never hear The Beatles. Even the Stones’
people were screaming and there wasn’t much sound. You could neverhear what you were doing.
I have to ask you about the Lenny Brucesong (“Lenny Bruce Is Dead”). You said it wasvery spontaneous.
That was a really quick song for me to write.
I wrote that in about five minutes… I didn’t
even know why I was writing it, it just naturallycame out. I wasn’t, you know, meditating on
Lenny Bruce before I wrote it.
It’s a very compassionate song.
It is.
It’s in the tradition of your songs about folk
heroes like “Hurricane”, “George Jackson”…
I thought “Joey’” was a good song. I know noone said much about it. I thought it was one ofthose songs that came off and you didn’t hearthat much about it.
Looking at the other songs on the album, there are a lot of criticismsof people in high places. Would you say that’s true?
(Laughs) Yeah, that’s always true, I guess… I don’t really know, y’know.
I’m not sure how it hangs together as a concept, because there weresome real long songs on this album that we recorded, a couple of reallylong songs. Like there was one we did – do you remember “Visions
Of Johanna”?
Sure.
Well, there was one like that. I’d never done anything like it before.
It’s got the same kind of thing to it. It seems to be very sensitive andgentle on one level; then, on another level, the lyrics aren’t sensitive andgentle at all. We left that off the album.
We left another thing off the album which is quite different to anything
I wrote, that I think in just a musical kind of way you’d like to hear. And ina lyric-content way it’s interesting. The way the storyline changes fromthird person to first person and that person becomes you, then thesepeople are there and they’re not there. And then the time goes way backand then it’s brought up to the present. And I thought it was reallyeffective, but that again is a long song and when it came to putting thesongs on the album we had to cut some, so we cut those. Now what wehave left is an album which seems to make its kind of general statement,
but it’s too soon to say what that general statement is.
There’s a reference to “the politics of sin” on “Dead Man”.
Yeah, well, that’s what sin is, politics. It just came to me when I was
writing, that’s the way it is… the diplomacy ofsin. The way they take sin, and put it in front ofpeople… the way that they say this is good andthat’s bad, you can do this and you can’t do that,the way sin is taken and split up and categorised
and put on different levels so it becomes more ofa structure of sin, or, “These sins are big ones,
these are little ones, these can hurt this person,these can hurt you, this is bad for this reason,and that is bad for another reason.” The politics
of sin; that’s what I think of it.
Do you still feel politics is part of the illusion?
I’ve never really been into politics, mostly
I guess because of the world of politics. The
people who are into politics as a profession, youknow, it’s… the art of politics hasn’t changed
much over the years. Were there politics in Roman times? And are there
politics in communist countries? I’m sure there are.
You feel what the world is facing is more of a spiritual crisis?
Oh yeah, definitely. Definitely. People don’t know who the enemy is.
They think the enemy is something they can see, and the reality of thedaniel jannin / getty“I don’t reallywant to walkaround with asign on saying‘Christian’”62 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

bob dylan

enemy is a spiritual being they can’t see, and it influences all they can
see and they don’t go to the top, the end line of the real enemy – like theenemy who’s controlling who you think is your enemy.
Who’s that?
What, who you think your enemy is?
Yes.
You would think the enemy is someone you could strike at and thatwould solve the problem, but the real enemy is the Devil. That’s the realenemy, but he tends to shade himself and hide himself and put it into
people’s minds that he’s really not there and he’s really not so bad, andthat he’s got a lot of good things to offer, too. So there’s this conflict going,to blind the minds of men.
A conflict in all of us?
Yeah, he puts the conflict there; without him there’d be no conflict.
Maybe that struggle is necessary?
Well, that’s a whole other subject… Yes, I’ve heard that said too.
When you said “Strengthen the things that remain” (from “When You
Gonna Wake Up”), what were you thinking of?
Well, the things that remain would be the basic qualities that don’tchange, the values that do still exist. It says in the Bible, “Resist not evil,
but overcome evil with good.” And the values that can overcome evil are
the ones to strengthen.
People feel that fighting oppression is more important thanspiritual interests.
That’s wrong. The struggle against oppression and injustice is always
going to be there, but the Devil himself is the one who creates it. You cancome to know yourself, but you need help in doing it.
The only one who can overcome all that is the great creator himself.
If you can get his help, you can overcome it. To do that you must know
something about the nature of the creator. What Jesus does for anignorant man like myself is to make the qualities and characteristics
of God more believable to me, ’cos I can’t beat the Devil. Only God can.
He already has. Satan’s working everywhere. You’re faced with him
constantly. If you can’t see him, he’s inside you making you feel acertain way. He’s feeding you envy and jealousy; he’s feeding you
oppression, hatred…
Do you feel the only way to know the creator is through Christ?
I feel the only way… let me see. Of course you can look on the desert andwake up to the sun and the sand and the beauty of the stars and know
there is a higher being, and worship that creator.
But being thrown into the cities, you’re faced more with man than with
God. We’re dealing here with man, y’know, and in order to know where
man’s at you have to know what
God would do if he was man.
I’m trying to explain to you in
intellectual mental terms, whenit actually is more of a spiritual
understanding than somethingwhich is open to debate.
You can’t teach people
things they don’t experience
for themselves…
Most people think that if God
became a man he would go up on a
mountain and raise his sword andshow his anger and his wrath or his
love and compassion in one blow.
And that’s what people expected
the Messiah to be – someone withsimilar characteristics, someone to
set things straight, and here comesa Messiah who doesn’t measure up
to those characteristics and causes
a lot of problems.
Someone who put the
responsibility back on us?
Right.
From your songs like “DeadMan” and “When He Returns”, it’s
obvious you believe the Second
Coming is likely in our lifetimes.
Possibly. Possibly at any moment.
It could be in our lifetimes. It could

be a long time. This Earth supposedly has a certain number of years,
which I think is 7,000 years – 7,000 or 6,000.
We’re in the last cycle of it now. Going back to the first century, there’s
like 3,000 years before that and 4,000 after it, one of the two, the lastthousand would be the millennium years. I think that everything that’s
happened is like a preview of what’s going to happen.
How strict is your interpretation of Christianity? The original
Christian seems to have a different faith and belief that got lost.
I’m not that much of a historian about Christianity. I know it’s beenchanged over the years, but I go strictly according to the gospels.
Have you seen the Gnostic Gospels?
Some place I have. I don’t recall too much about them, but I’ve
seen them.
Are you going to make any more movies?
If we can get a story outline, we will… I’d like to.
Renaldo And Clara was very symbolist, and your songs on Street Legal
were full of Tarot imagery. Have those interests left you now?
Those particular interests have, yes.
Do you think that “occult” interests like the Tarot are misleading?
I don’t know. I didn’t get into the Tarot cards all that deeply. I do thinkthey’re misleading for people, though. You’re fixed on something whichkeeps a hold on you. If you can’t or don’t understand why you’re feelingthis way at that moment, with those cards you come up with a
comfortable feeling that doesn’t have any necessary value.
You were also interested in Judaism at one point. You visited Israel
and the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. Do you feel that your interests atthat time are compatible with your present beliefs?
There’s really no difference between any of it in my mind. Some people
say they’re Jews and they never go to a synagogue or anything. I knowsome gangsters who say they’re Jews. I don’t know what that’s got to dowith anything. Judaism is really the laws of Moses. If you follow the lawsof Moses you’re automatically a Jew, I would think.
You’ve always had a strong religious theme in your songs even
before you became a Christian.
(Angrily) I don’t really want to walk around with a sign on me
saying “Christian”.
It might appear that way to a lot of people…
Yeah, but a lot of people want to hang a sign on you for whatever. It’s like
Mick Jagger said, “They wanna hang a sign on you.”
In a Playboy interview three years ago you said you agreed with
Henry Miller’s saying that “The purpose of the artist is to inoculate theworld with disillusionment.” Do you still agree with that?
(Laughs) That’s pretty good forHenry Miller… maybe that would
be good for what he wanted to do.
Maybe that’s the purpose of his art.
Not yours?
Well, what I do is more of animmediate thing; to stand up onstage and sing – you get it back
immediately. It’s not like writinga book or even making a record.
And with a movie – it’s so difficult
to get anything back working ona movie; you never know what
you’re doing and the results
never come in until usually
years afterwards.
What I do is so immediate, itchanges the nature, the concept,of art to me. I don’t know what it is.
It’s too immediate. It’s like the man
who made that painting there(points to painting on wall of hotelroom) has no idea we’re sitting here
now looking at it or not looking at
it or anything… Performing ismore like a stage play.
You haven’t painted yourmasterpiece yet, then?
No. I don’t know if I ever will. I’ve
given up thinking about it, though.
Neil Spencer •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 631981

a p r i l – J U NE

“We seeourselves
as studio
technicians”
On tour with KRAFTWERK. Having recently rebuilt
their studio, the band now embrace the computerage. Ralf Hütter talks German humour, Coca-Cola and“vertically organised” music. “We have nobody
to listen to,” he says. “We have to impose every
question, and try to find the correct answer.”— NME JUNE 13 —creditkoh hasebe / getty

PART 1: “Art is not a ‘profession’. There is no essential difference between the artist and thecraftsman. The artist is an exalted craftsman. In rare moments of inspiration, moments
beyond the control of his will, the grace of Heaven may cause his work to blossom into art.
But proficiency to his craft is essential to every artist. Therein lies a source of creative
imagination.” From the first proclamation of the Weimar Bauhaus, 1919

64 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

pain might currently be in turmoil, what with its armed forces’ flexingof musclebound strength posing a threat to its still unsettled democracy, butthere are no ripples of unrest to disturb the afternoon siesta of a dozing
Barcelona. Only the foolhardy tourists who flood the city every summer
brave the unrelenting heat and dust of the streets.
many of them are from Britain and germany, and it’s easy to see what attracts
them: the city’s proximity to the sea, its odd, indigenous architecture and, of course, a goodexchange rate. For the germans its location also fulfils a romantic northern longing for the
warmth and promise of the south and the mediterranean.
Kraftwerk, too, feel the urge. their main motivating force ralf hütter wandered throughSpain a decade ago – so he reveals later to a Spanish record company executive from the backof a taxi careering through the night – but he was put off by the hippies» » clogging islands andSKraftwerk at the Keio
Plaza Hotel, Tokyo,
September 1981: (l–r)
Florian Schneider,
Wolfgang Flür, Karl
Bartos and Ralf Hütter

��,.�si�HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 65

1981

a p r i l – J U NE

ebet roberts / getty

Projections illustrate
the track “Autobahn”
as Kraftwerk tour the
USA in summer 1981

resorts like Ibiza. Besides, he doesn’t enjoy the tourist role, preferringinstead a more constructive purpose for travelling, like work.
Consequently Kraftwerk’s European tour satisfies both theirwanderlust and their need for communication/feedback. Despite theirmodernity, a fear of flying means they are driving themselves across theContinent – so far down from Düsseldorf through Bavaria and the Alps to
Italy, across to the South of France and down again, through the Pyrenees,to Barcelona. From city to city, concert to concert, disco to disco.
Yet there’s none of the whining rock “road goes on forever” aura about
their tour. It’s more a dignified, inquisitive jaunt across countries, its
moods, pleasures and languors so beautifully evoked already by theirseven-year-old hit “Autobahn”. That great, compellingly endless tune
was Kraftwerk’s stunning entrance into a gleaming chromium world.
They had made earlier records that fiddled about with more extreme
noises which they later smoothed out into sweet melodies, like the“Pineapple Symphony”.
“Autobahn” was, however, the first real stirring of their innovative pop
sensibility – a witty synthetic delight concocted from mock traffic noises
and a wide, open-spaced tune, motored by then intriguing newelectronic percussion and a mechanical rhythm. It, suggested a harmony
between the aggressive, awe-inspiring Autobahn network crisscrossing
Germany and the lush landscapes it traverses. And ever since Kraftwerk
have reconciled the spirit of Mother Nature with modern technology,
recognising that real progress must embrace them both.
Acknowledging the futility of simply retreating to the country, they
have instead achieved an immense understanding of computers andmachines, which they have placed at their service. Theirs isn’t a dumb
worship of inanimate objects, but a sensible relationship with them;
they don’t make an idiotic cult of speed and modernity, as did the Italian
Futurists. They have too much respect for the accomplishments of thepast for that, be they those of the Bauhaus or the architects behind
Vienna or Versailles.
Take a Trans Europe Express trip with Kraftwerk and see how they recall
the grandeur and decay of old Europe through fabulous futuristic noises.
Go to work with The Man Machine and discover a proper working
relationship between man and his urban environment, perhaps
recognising for the first time the splendid brittle beauties of new cities
and industrial scenery. Tune in to Radio-Activity and learn just how
romantic Kraftwerk can get, how well they drain conceivably maudlin
melodies of sentimentality, thus adjusting the spirit of the old to the new.
Go see Kraftwerk in concert and marvel at the reconstructed working
environment of their studio – all of which accompanies them on this tour
66 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

– and at the videos projected onto screens behind each member that so
wonderfully illustrate what they’re doing. And, finally, puzzle over andabsorb Kraftwerk’s extraordinary harnessing of so much technology tocreate a complete word-sound-vision entertainment that is as simple as itis spectacular, as provocative as it is plain, as comical as it is earnest and –most importantly – as spiritual as it is temporal.
Predictably, in their rush to ride a fashion, too many of the newelectronic poppas have been too busy to burrow beneath Kraftwerk’ssurface sheen. And in their search for a comfortable niche they’ve even
got that much wrong. Robotic gestures are just the final topping for
Kraftwerk, not a raison d’être, and similarly their descriptive postcard
views are the culmination of penetrating analysis and thought.
Kraftwerk’s finished work is simple, stylish and on the button – that of
the futurists is faddish, foppish and simple-minded.
ROM-CITY-TO-COnCeRT-TO-dIsCO. The gRandeuR of
old Barcelona is as near to a perfect – ie, contradictory – setting
as you can get for Kraftwerk.
They’re staying in an imposingly haughty regency hotel that at first
appears at odds with their austere monochromatic image. Offstage,
Florian Schneider (the other half of Kraftwerk’s production team) fits,
dressed as he is in a neutral-coloured windcheater with a little knapsackon his back for his wanderings. For reasons of privacy they haverequested that Anton Corbijn and me should stay in a different hotel – fairenough – but they are unfailingly polite and friendly when we meet.
Kraftwerk like to observe the formalities, sensibly concealing their real
personalities from public scrutiny. However, the impassive gaze of their
showroom dummy stageselves – pitched somewhere between Buster
Keaton and William Burroughs – becomes animated in conversation.
Rumour has it that Wolfgang Flür and Karl Bartos – the glamorous rhythm
half of Kraftwerk – can’t speak English, if they can speak at all, and this tooturns out to be a fallacy. A brief meeting with the group before they rush
off to a soundcheck is resumed in the dressing room after the concert. The
reaction had been good; thus they’re more relaxed and communicative.
Bearing in mind the flourishing of electronic pop in Britain, Karl iseager to know how well they might be received on their visit. No
competition, I assure him. Magazine have split up. Simple Minds areinactive. Heaven 17 hidden away up north, Numan retired, and the rest
are but poor, directionless imitations of Kraftwerk.
But most forward of the Kraftwerk entourage is long-time offstage
collaborator Emil Schult, whose long curly blond hair pulled back intoa pony tail, tanned bronze features and tight black satin pants make himFkraftwerk

an unlikely component. After passing a few good-natured comments
about my dress sense, he launches into a tirade against cities. “Cities are
dirty, filthy places,” he observes. “Five days in Barcelona are like five years
off my life. Are there any back-to-the-country movements in England?”No, they were discredited by hippy failures. At the moment there isnothing to match the strength of the European ecological movementsthat are willing to battle against police and paramilitary riot officers toprevent nuclear power stations appearing on their doorsteps. Or thestrong eco-party lobbies – like Germany’s Green Party – that win votes
and respect from the mainstream.
He smiles knowingly and then continues: “It’s a much better life in the
country. It’s good that there is a new consciousness in songs like that one
from Talking Heads about breathing good air. In some ways that is what
Kraftwerk are about too.”This is the man who co-writes Kraftwerk songs and works on theirgraphics. He spends eight months a year on an island in the Bahamas
where he is building a one-roomed house, and he’s critical that thenatives have been corrupted by Western ways. “Once they were strong
and healthy; now they eat too much sweets and sugar, so they havebecome fat and soft. But you can’t tell them it’s bad,” he despairs.
Schult fits into the Kraftwerk operation along with the computer
technicians and mathematicians. Theirs is a multifaceted, all-embracing
corporation that preaches through its
practices. Its ideals come close to that of Das
Bauhaus, the ’20s school of thought withwhom they share a great affinity.
“I see us as the musical Bauhaus,” concurs
Ralf Hütter. “In their time they could work intheatre, architecture, photography andshort films, but they did not really have thetechnology to apply their ideas to music;
we now have it. We see ourselves as studiotechnicians or musical workers – not asmusical artists.”
But it’s not all work. Wolfgang and Ralf arehabitual disco-goers, so after the concert,while Florian and Karl go looking forsomething to eat, the dancing duo visit
Barcelona’s Studio 54. They look great,
twitching like animated versions of the
figures they bring on stage during“Showroom Dummies” among the bizarre
mix of half-naked go-go dancers, Travoltas
and tourists looking for a good time.
They’re totally engrossed in their own
movements , seemingly oblivious to allaround them. Yet, as with all theenvironments they choose, they become
very much part of it. So much so that I’m
surprised Ralf Hütter is up in time – I’msurprised I’m up in time – for the scheduledinterview only a few hours after we leave thedisco for bed.
He betrays no signs of tiredness from theprevious night or exhaustion from the tour. In
close-up his youthful looks are belied by thestreaks of grey in his hair. He is composed, yet
good-humoured, his soft voice willing to answer
any questions, his English vocabulary seldom
failing him. What’s more, his confidence inwhat he’s doing means there is none of the selfconscious stuttering that many English groups
lapse into when they discuss their work.

NME: When I saw the titles of your new record were to be “Computer
World” and “Pocket Calculator”, my first impressions were that
Kraftwerk had slipped into self-parody.
Ralf hütter: Why did you think self-parody?
The pursuit of new age themes from showroom dummies throughrobots to computers…
Well, I think that for us it was the only thing we could do at that moment,
because we had spent three years breaking up our studio and rebuilding
it with computers. Just by looking around us – around our studio andoutside – it made us see that we were surrounded by computers, that ourwhole society is computerised. And as we were working on theconnection between numbers and notes, computers seemed the closest
subject for us to do. It was not intended in a parodic way. To us it seemed
like the next step, from robots/physical automation to programming ofthoughts within Kraftwerk and within society. Within Kraftwerk
because everybody is programmed sociologically. And by working over
the years with reproductions on machines, tapes, photos and videos wefound out so much about our own programming of a long time ago, a time
when we were not aware of ourselves being programmed – in education,
by parents, or those other things.
The combination of studying computersand building them in studio wasalmost a cleansing process ofprevious programming?
Yes, “processing” is the word to describe
the thing. Everything in our studio is now
interconnected through the computers,
so we had to rethink the whole systemand program ourselves into that. Now
everything is automatic, but we canalways interfere as we have access to theprogramming. It means that we can now
play anything, and that completely changes
our relationship with physical music. You
can no longer say, “That’s good music, but weneed three more trumpets”, because if wewant sounds we obviously just make thesounds ourselves. It’s going to create newtensions and possibilities for us.
does that frighten or excite you?
We are, uh, nervous, but we are also fatalistic.

“We’d spent
three years
breaking up
our studio andrebuilding it”

PART II: “Whose details and history are in the government computers – thesecurity force alone has records of more than two million citizens – a person
affected has no means of discovering, any more than they can check the
combinations possible with this information and that from othercomputers… To produce a complete ‘inventory’ of the population there isat present being developed in the Federal Republic an information system
and registration law which recalls the frightening visions of Orwell’s 1984:
There is a plan for what are known as personal numbers.” Sebastian Cobler:Law, Order And Politics In West Germany

Why fatalistic?
Because we are German and there is a
fatalistic German quality of going all theway. There is never a question of maybe
using a little computer here and plugging it into
the synthesizer there and keeping the rest of thegroup as it was before. We close the door for
three years and don’t open it. We try to do it all
the way, imposing the process as a discipline on
ourselves, really taking all the way and thengoing out of the room to see where that takes us.
I think that is very Germanic.

Broadening the subject slightly, the title track“Computer World” hints at international
conspiracy in its lines “Interpol and DeutscheBank, FBI and Scotland Yard”.
Well, now that it has been penetrated by microelectronics, our whole society is computerised, and each one of us isstored into some point of information by some company or organization,
all stored by numbers. When you get into Germany at a border, they place
your passport into a machine connected to the Bundeskriminalamt in
Wiesbaden so they can check whether you can enter or leave, for various
reasons other than whether your passport is correct. It goes much further
than that, there’s a whole philosophy of, er – it’s our 1981.
But the willingness of the people to accept something like theWiesbaden police computer complex seems to indicate that a majority »HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 67

1981

a p r i l – J U NE

of the German people wants order or at least a regulated lifestyle.
If you are insecure about basic instincts of yourself, then you have to lookand maybe listen to outside impulses to tell you what to do. Which is notexactly what we are about, but certainly what a lot of Germany is about,and by living there, working there, we can’t dissociate ourselves from it
completely. We have certainly discovered that those things are part of ourprogramming. And working with computers all the time you become verymuch aware of how the control thing works and could be done – especiallyin Germany, where computerisation of control organisations is very big.
There are stores and societies which control your financial situation, so
the whole computerisation gets more like a 1984
vision. Our idea is to take computers out ofcontext of those control functions and use themcreatively in an area where people do not expect
to find them. Like using pocket calculators tomake music, for instance. Nobody knew you
could do that. We always try to do things to break
the normal order – and knowing it so well from
Germany, we know how to break it… possibly (aslight smile). It’s about time technology was usedin resistance; it shouldn’t be shunned, reviled or
glorified. Yes, we created a softer attitude, goingmuch more into the human behaviour of thosetype of things. What we always try to do is to plugourselves in and steal a little away from those companies, using guerilla
tactics to steal from the rich conglomerates… like we got thismathematician into doing something he wouldn’t normally do – help
make music. And we communicate data to him by computer, avoiding
then the post office telephone monopoly on communications.

Wiesbaden are just putting their minds on the table. I mean, they havethat in their heads for a long time, so if it were the Baader Meinhof Gang or
the weather that gave them the excuse they would have done it, becausethat is the only thing they would think about doing. The people involved
were brought up in Nazi kindergartens; they always see things in terms ofpunishment, guilt, restrictions, everybody in a role. And they can neverfind out what they are like and they can’t go that far back into theprogramming process to change their modules of behaviour. The guy
responsible for Wiesbaden is retired now, but he probably imposes thesame system of order in his house – it’s so much part of his system.
Your generation had two choices – identify
with the foreign cultures of occupying powers
or go back to the ’20s?
I think we are very anti-American in a way
because we were feeling so much how theycame to Germany with Coca-Cola and chewing
gum. As children we at first thought it was
great, you know, big uncle coming down thestreet with Coca-Cola. I can still remember
when I was very young how they came throughthe streets on tanks giving it out. We took it at
the time, but over the years you more and more
doubt what’s happening and where you stand.
It has nothing to do with nationalistic feelings, it’s more a cultural thing;it has to do with more spiritual feelings, continental feelings…

“It’s about time
technology
was used inresistance”

It’s ironic that Kraftwerk have a reputation for being so distinctly
German – in dress, observation of formalities, eating cakes in cafes –when you obviously don’t like some aspects of modern Germany.
Ja, that’s the war; we have to go through this whole process because in
England, or in America, you have a living culture, but in Germany wedon’t have that. In the war Germany was finished, everything wiped out
physically and also mentally. We were nowhere. The only people we could
relate to we had to go back 50 years into the ’20s. On the other hand, wewere brought up in the British sector and that’s nothing we could relate to.
There’s no living musical thing other than the 50-years-old musical thingor semi-academic electronic music, meaning psychologically we had toget ourselves going. And that has only been possible with our generation.
You can see the generation before ours that is 10 years older and they
could not do it. The only thing they could do was get fat and drink. Therewas so much accumulated guilt that it physically took another generation
to be productive, to be willing to say, “OK, I’m doing a song called “TransEuropa Express” or something. That’s why we don’t have any contact withpeople older than us. It’s just impossible – it’s a real break. But now with
our generation it has begun again, with the films of Fassbinder, Herzog
and Wenders or the writing of Peter Handke, for instance. Our music wasused in the last section of Alexanderplatz [the ’20s novel of Alfred Döblin,recently subjected to a controversial TV serialisation by Fassbinder]. There
was about 20 minutes of visions and horror sequences with our music.
How about relations with your parents?
It’s difficult, but they are several years older, even pre-Nazi… we certainly
represent the generation with no fathers. We have nobody to listen to, no
old wise men or anything. We have to impose every question on ourselves
and try to find the correct answer. That we were completely alone was very
hard to accept at first, but after a few years we find that it is also in someways encouraging, because it gives you possibilities of doing new things.
In England we’re partly encumberedby useless, decaying traditions that arenevertheless difficult to cast off…
I think so, but that will crumble away…
Getting back to your generation,
weren’t the RAF/Baader Meinhof Gangcited as reasons for the increased
surveillance that resulted in the
Wiesbaden centre?
Maybe, but the people who created
68 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

Were you worried that your identification with Germany would be
misinterpreted abroad?
No. For us it was more an identity thing. It was the process of findingout who we were. The whole thing of Kraftwerk going through thosedifferent LPs… like Autobahn, everybody in Germany said that singing
German lyrics was crazy. Can you imagine that 75 per cent of our radio
programmes were in English. Naturally we don’t want it all to be inGerman, but such a high percentage? It is becoming better now – I’mreally complaining about a few years ago.
Having talked to younger German groups, like D.A.F. and Der Plan, I’m
always impressed by their sense of purpose and their willingness to talkabout their music – an area which English groups often hedge around.
Well, it’s so hard in Germany to be productive that you have to discipline
yourself very much and put yourself through a lot of effort to get anywhere.
When we first started it was impossible to find anywhere to play. We built
our own equipment, telephoned and arranged anything ourselves… it
was just little guerilla tactics in order to get anywhere. And once you havedecided to do it, then you have adopted it as a lifestyle. But finally it has
broken here and there is much activity in German now. It is no longer thecase of people denying their identity and having to sing in English.
The intellectual process that has obviously gone into the constructionof your LPs manifests itself in a simple pop form. Do you think it’s
getting so simple that people are missing the point?
No. We consider our music minimalist to a point and that again maybe hassomething to do with our so-called classical upbringing, where one of thehighest goals is to play very complicated pieces. We would rather go for themeaning. If we wanted to play complicated things with our equipment it
would be just a matter of pressing one or two more buttons. Besides, I
never like practising because that is again part of the system of order – you
put the notes in order. The system imposes itself in every aspect of human
life; not just passports, but music, too. This created some very strange
feelings in myself at the time. Our music is very primitive – the German
word is gerade aus [straight ahead] andthat is the best word for it. Simple means alittle stupid, minimalistic means
reduced, but gerade aus means you know
where you are going and you try to getthere as fast as possible. We once called
our music Industrielle Volksmusik. I thinkthat’s what we stand for. We’re very much
involved with environment. Düsseldorf iscalled “The Office of the Rühr” (the heavy
industrial belt of Germany) – it is all glassand steel and concrete and blocks…

Many so-called futurist groups took The Man Machineidea the wrong way, taking a simplistic view of extollingmachinery when they should have just used it.
The Man Machine is more like establishing a balance
between man and the machine, more a friendship,
otherwise we would have called the album “Machine”.
Also, in the ’70s everybody was calling their albums
something like “Man”, everybody simplistically talked so muchabout human qualities – “I love you baby, forever”, for example. But
we wanted to talk about the relationship between man andmachines and the Russian context of Rabotnik, meaning worker.
We always thought of ourselves as workers in sound – not musicians
or musical artists, but as musical workers, going into the studio towork. And the whole thing was to develop that. We had so many
problems in the ’70s because nobody was attuned to it.

Coming back from last night’s concert, your collaborator Emil
Schult spoke of back-to-the-land movements and a healthier, morenatural lifestyle. He said that Kraftwerk in a way represented this.
That has to do with the second electronic revolution. We went
through the mechanical side three years ago and now it’s theelectronic data and processing – we are getting more into softwareand organisms, how organisms come about. There’s a tendency toread bio-rhythms within the group of people who live in our home.
For us there’s no longer a difference between all those things –they’ve all been part of the programming process. One time wecalled our Kling Klang Studio the “Electronic Garden” – we havebridged the gap between music and technology.

Don’t you get the urge to make more of this in your lyrics, which
are mainly plainly descriptive?
We always try to plant lyrics like clues, use them as codes, because
otherwise lyrics tend to catch you intellectually and only that. Thatwould disturb our Ganzheit [wholeness] principle. Also, it’s part of ourGermanic thing, the little symphonic thing, where words are there, butvoices aren’t mixed very high. Our main thing was mainly sound and thewords just slipped into our music.
The music was a system of contrasts once – loud/quiet, soft/hard,
melodic/cacophonous. It’s become more unified, easier on the ear.
Yes, but we have gone more radikal synthetic. Everything we do now iscompletely produced by computerising the whole thing. Even therhythms are horizontally and vertically organised.
The Kraftwerk personnel seem strongly integrated into the Kraftwerk
persona; is there a difference between your stage and private persona?
Our personal life is our stage life; sometimes we get confused andsometimes I get mixed up. It’s just a level of awareness, a feeling for the
moment. There is really nothing else we do apart from Kraftwerk andrelated things. We have no other choice than going totally into that thing.
It’s strange that you haunt the discos, enjoying the physical activity ofdancing, perhaps?
Yes (with a sly grin), but we are dancing very mechanical. To us it’s all partof… we are situationists. It’s hard to express – maybe we should write
some more songs about it. Like “Showroom Dummies”, which says “It’s
two o’clock, we start to dance, we are showroom dummies”, coming to life.
We are also living in the streets, in the cities, everywhere. We can’t
separate this life from that. It’s all one life and at the end we are dead.
Do you see Kraftwerk as a comedy of manners?
That’s behaviour? Certainly there’s some degree of black humour in us“There’s somedegree of black
humour in us”:
Kraftwerk in Tokyo,
September 1981

– we are mostly wearing black! There’s a certain tradition of humour
where we live, that has become part of us.
There seems to be a gleeful happiness about you during theperformance of “Pocket Calculator” when you all leave your keyboards
to perform a dance routine at the front of the stage.
Yes, because mostly we are physically bound to elaborate equipment.
Florian bought a [musical] pocket calculator last Christmas in thedepartment store, brought it to the studio where we started playing
around with it. It was a new thing for us. It was a minimalistic liberation
for us. I think that mini electronics are very interesting.
Being so interested in video and automated beings, why have you taken
to the road instead of sending out visual/mechanical aids as stand-ins?
We did that before, a couple of years ago. In New York we played a press
show with dummies. And one time in Paris to launch The Man Machine.
What we wanted to do this time was put ourselves through the whole newsituation of going out with our entire studio, because we had been lockedin for three years to make this new album and concept; for the first time
we would be able to go out, walk around and come back the other way. It’sa really open thing, because we don’t know how it’ll turn out. It will reflectin our music, because we always draw our ideas from the work we do,
putting our music and machinery through this whole process.
Do you take a fatalistic interest in things at the point of crisis, whenthings are in the balance?
(After a long pause) Maybe, because that’s the point where changes comeabout and maybe, subconsciously at least, we are very easily bored by astable situation. Electronic music is a very liquid situation, not likerock’n’roll, which is a very stable format. We’re not in a box like that,
we’re not afraid, we’re attracted by certain things in motion… Chris Bohn •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 69

koh hasebe / getty

Kraftwerk’s relationship to computers is more ambivalent, then?
Ambivalence is right – we’re not glorifying anything. It’s more like byliving in West Germany you can see how society can be manoeuvredwith these electronic computers. What we are trying to do is firstly
make that transparent and then maybe try to expose how you cando other things, because computers are like blank tapes: you cancover them with bits or change their direction even though they, too,can change – they did change – our attitudes towards music… It’s
really hard to express this in words because Computer World is still
so close that I haven’t reflected upon everything in it.

1981

a p r i l – J U NE
with the dexterity and facilityof a champion fencer.
The pacing is perfect,from the opening notes of“Ace Of Spades” to the vast
cheer that greets the final
chords of “Motörhead”.
Perfect because it isunchanging and unrelenting.
Motörhead know only one
speed, and that’s flat out.
Is it good? I happen tothink it’s magnificent –a display of brute force andpower which most otherheavy metal bands wouldfind hard to even approach
let alone emulate. I once
heard it said, by a record
company A&R man, that
Overkill was the mostimportant heavy metal album
to come along since Black
Sabbath’s debut.
Following the same lineof thought, I’d suggestthat No Sleep… has set thestandard for heavy metal in
the ’80s. It’s a yardstick bywhich everything else will
be measured. Brian Harrigan,
MM Jun 6

Motörhead:marauding assaults
on the senses

ALBUMS

fin costello / getty

Motörhead No Sleep ’Til
Hammersmith BRONZE
They’re not joking. In the
rock’n’roll gross-out stakes,
Motörhead take the fur-lined
biscuit. I’ve seen them arounda dozen times, including theirmonumental Heavy Metal Barn
Dance in Stafford last year.
I used to think that Overkill wasa heavy album, that Bomber
was over the top and that Ace
Of Spades was louder than an
atom bomb in a foundry.
But this… this is ridiculous. How
producer Vic Maile managed topiece this together without hisvery brain liquefying and making
a break for the studio exit, via his
ears, I’ll never know.
The facts. No Sleep ’Til
Hammersmith is a live album
recorded at a variety of British
gigs during the band’s tour
earlier this year – with the
exception of “Iron Horse”,
which I suspect is taken fromthe aforementioned Barn Danceof 1980. Lemmy’s introduction
to that track, by the way, should
go down in history. “This one,”he mumbles “is dedicated to all
the Angels in here – and everyone
else, really.”
And the music? Just about what
you’d expect – but more so. The
70 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

The Birthday Party
Prayers On Fire 4AD

ALBUMS

REVIE
W

the senses.
Motörhead
There’s noclassics are all
danger that
there, naturally
1981
Motörhead– “Motörhead”,
would every“Bomber”, “Overkill”,
attempt a ballad or“Stay Clean”, “No Class”,
indeed anything thatetc, and, while it may seem likedoesn’t require the shedding ofa reviewer’s cliche, it’s true to saya couple of gallons of sweat.
that they sound fresher than ever.
It would be hard to put up
It’s no easy task to make a live
a case for Motörhead being
album. Few artists have evergreat musicians, althoughmanaged to pull it off.
guitarist Eddie Clarke does
Somehow, after repeatedshow a remarkable facility for
listenings, the attraction begins
speedy runs up and down his
to pall. You find yourself picking
fretboard and an innate ability
just selected tracks. You get
to sustain notes almost beyond
irritated by the bum notes, thethe endurance of either player
flagging tempos, the voices thator listener.
just fail to hit the expected notes.
But then virtuosity is scarcely
Offhand, I can only think ofwhat Motörhead are all about.
Jerry Lee Lewis’ Greatest Live
This is gut music to beShow On Earth from 1964 as
experienced rather than bebeing a completely successful
listened to. “Bomber” is theset recorded in concert.
perfect example. Philthy Animal
However, I have a feeling that
Taylor pounds
Motörhead may have equalled
his drums like
Jerry Lee’s achievement witha jack-hammer
No Sleep…. A curious comparisongone berserk,
to be sure, but then Motörhead,
�*�
Lemmy coaxes
like Jerry Lee, are simple,
gargantuan
straightforward rock’n’rollers
groans from
who put the most colossal
both his bass
physical effort into theirand his larynx,
performance.
and Fast Eddie
That, I think, is the reason forstabs his guitar
the success of both Motörhead
through theand No Sleep…. All the tracks arewall of soundfull-tilt, marauding assaults on

One night several months
ago the eyelids were growing
heavy and the mind was
wandering idly into anotherdimension as the John Peel show
demonstrated yet again its
inability to hold my attention for
more than a couple of minutes.
Preparing to flick on a record,a hand suddenly froze over theturntable, an ear turned, andthe brain was held by a sonic blitz
that snapped out of the speakers.
I had just been exposed to The
Birthday Party for the first time.
Without protective clothing.
Let’s get the jokes about Frank
Ifield and Rolf Harris out of theway first and just say that The
Birthday Party are the hottest
thing to emerge from Australia
since… well… since whatever.
Formerly known as The Boys
Next Door, they recorded analbum under the name, became
The Birthday Party, visited
'

'M't
rffl¡

"Ex-t

Ppny

ort FletLynden Barber, MM Apr 25

Rolling Stones Sucking In The
Seventies ROLLING STONES
Strange really, if you bother tothink about it. All that talk fromthe Stones camp about thequantity of songs which wereleft off their last two albums.
The delay between Some Girlsand Emotional Rescue wasattributed – if memory serves– to the material the band had
accumulated, the surfeit of which
had left the Glimmer Twins spoilt
for choice.
Ironic, then, that the second
Rolling Stones album of thedecade is a compilation. Not
that the Stones haven’t been
well served by compilations
throughout their career. Decca
have wrung about every possible
permutation from their Stones’
catalogue, and their spell withWEA resulted in the 1975 Made
In The Shade and the 1978 Time
Waits For No One collections.
EMI aren’t slow off the markwith Sucking In The Seventies,
and a pretty paltry collection it is.

Only two unreleased tracks anda live version of a 1978 song. The
remaining tracks are culled fromearlier albums: two from Some
Girls (“Shattered” and“Beast Of Burden”), one
from Love You Live(“Mannish Boy”), three
from Black And Blue(“Crazy Mama”, “HotStuff” and “Fool To Cry”)
and one from It’s Only
Rock’n’Roll (“Time Waits For
No One”).
The motliness of this current
complication is compounded by
the fact that two of the songs –“Time Waits For No One” and“Fool To Cry” – were available on
the last compilation.
The only real interest,
therefore, on this album lies inthe three “new” tracks. The live
version of “When The Whip
Comes Down” is the Stones
going through their wellpractised paces at some
unknown arena; the familiar
chugging guitars and rocksolid rhythm section stateemphatically that it is the Stones
live and hard at work on one of
the raunchier songs from Some
Girls. Fine, but it adds little to thestudio version.
“If I Was A Dancer (Part Two)”comes from the Emotional
Rescue sessions, and as thesubtitle indicates, it’s in thesame disco vein as “Dance”
from that album. It’s acompetent, unremarkable
outtake, punctuated by some
sweet brass sounds.
The one real point of interest
comes with “Everything Is
Turning To Gold”; vintage Stones
from the Some Girls sessions,a crashing rocker, with good
Jagger vocals and somerelentless percussion from Watts.
And there you go, a maxisingle’s worth of new material forthe price of an album!
I don’t believe this sorry state ofaffairs is entirely the Stones’ fault(except that they take so bloody
long making an album, there’s anecessity for some “product” tofill the gaps between albums).
The album was geared for theAmerican market, but obviously
any Stones fan worth their salt
wants everything with the band’sname on, however unreasonably
the album is compiled.
The album’s cover, with its drab
black lettering on a plain whitebackground, reflects the paucity
of its contents. On this evidence,
if this is the Rolling Stones
sucking in the ’70s, it’s only to
gob right in the eye of the ’80s.

SINGLESW
REVIE

Patrick Humphries, MM Apr 25

1981

SINGLESThe Human League
The Sound Of The Crowd VIRGIN
The verse is merely a retreadof “Crow And A Baby”, theLeague’s very worst song,
but the chorus is enough tomake your mother tap her
fingers lightly on her knee
as she magnanimously
offers, “Hmmm, catchy little
number…” I can’t really makeup my mind about this one,which probably means that it’s
not that great. MM Apr 25

Kraftwerk
Pocket Calculator EMI
The great-granddaddies of
Teutonic techno-bop returnfrom retirement, theirreputation unexpectedly
enhanced in their absence,and deliver one humdinger ofa dance track destined not tobe bettered in aeons. Blip-andbeep perfect for the nouveau
robot manoeuvres currently
in vogue at the discos, it takesmechanical minimalism one
step nearer nonexistencewith deadpan vocals,
meaningless lyrics and asparse, basic beat. The B-side’s(surprise, surprise!) the samein Japanese. Right time, rightplace. Right place & No 1!
MM May 9

The Clash
The Magnificent Seven CBS
No bones about this one, Jack:
it’s a great record. Their best
shot from Sandinista!, this 45
is The Clash’s answer to disco
and Sugarhill rapping. Itfeatures a superb bassline andsound, an intelligent lyric,and succeeds beautifully
because Joe Strummer
understands that therhythm of his words are justas important as Mick Jones’
careful funk guitar. The
Great Work Rap is upon us.
A compulsive dance number
and you can listen to it aswell. Give it a shot. MM Apr 11

Springsteen:
exposing ourhopes and fears

Bruce Springsteen
The River CBS
It’s an odd choice for a single,
but nevertheless an exampleof Springsteen at his finest,
the hopes and fears of the
man-and-woman-in-thestreet expressed with starkmelancholy.
The same goes for“Independence Day” on theother side, one of Springsteen’s
most moving songs ever, a songthat crawls under your skin andmakes you want to weep.
If you’ve been put off by
the excessive mawkishness
and grimace-inducing sexism
on some of The River (thealbum), if you hate the car
imagery which makes
Springsteen sound like asend-up of himself, or if you
simply think he’s an overblown
hype, then this package should
be enough to make you see
why thousands of people areprepared to go to almost
fanatical lengths to get tosee the man live. Now go andbuy Darkness On The Edge
Of Town. MM Apr 25

The Teen Idles
Minor Disturbance EP
DISCHORD

Ever wondered where the real
punks go now that the Subs andRuts are prancing and posing
around in their poncy new
hairstyles? To the States, that’s
where. America’s Teen Idles
are so cliched, crass and cross,they’re cute; playing so fast,
loud and lousy, they make The
Dead Kennedys sound like
Queen. Frantic, fabulous,futile fun. Try it. MM May 9

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 71

rob verhorst / getty

Britain last year and returned
to Australia to record thisalbum. They’re now back in
Britain indefinitely.
People who take Beefheart asa prime inspiration usually end
up looking like five-year-old kids
trying to copy Rembrandt – justlisten to early Pop Group or
Clock DVA to see the pitfalls– but The Birthday Party’s
achievement is in using Van
Vliet’s influence with intuition
and understanding, simply using
some of his ideas as a base camp
for the expedition.
The end result is a sound thatis uniquely personal, angular,
thick and fleshy. It’s spat out withdemonic ferocity that’s enoughto scare the Y-Fronts off eventhe most blasé of listeners andrecorded in what sounds more
like an inferno than a studio.
If you’re one of the few people
who live near a shop that will
actually play records on request,
and then ask to hear “King Ink”,
Side Two’s opening track. It’sa cauterising assault built
around a monster of a bassline,with guitars jabbing cruelly andsinger Nick Cave crying out
with manic intensity. If not, takea chance and buy.
I could rabbit on for pages,
but can’t help feeling that words
are pretty inadequate when
faced with this kind of burning
commitment. Hear the record,
forgive them for the Brecht
and Weill-inspired overkill that
ends Side Two, and see them.

1981

a p r i l – J U NE

June 9, 1981: the day after
the last UK date of The
River Tour at the NEC
Arena in Birmingham,
Bruce Springsteen visits
U2 backstage after theirconcert at Hammersmith
Palais, West London

72 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

“Money
isn’t theend”
— MELODY MAKER MAY 9 —tacked on the left of
the typewriter are twoblank cassettes whichshould contain the voiceof Bruce Springsteen. But
like kevin Rowland andelvis costello, Bruce doesn’t like taperecorders or notebooks.
Before starting this european tour hedid two formal interviews with music
papers – the only press likely to draw
him out – one with Rolling Stone, theother with Musician. and that wasenough for Bruce.
he doesn’t need that kindof publicity to sell records orgigs. he doesn’t need it toboost his ego: that kind of
superficial security he cando without.
“and also because it ends
up me-me-me-me all thetime,” he told me last week,
laughing self-deprecatingly
and thumping himself on
the chest.
So we instead we sat in his
dressing room and chatted.
Within minutes the intensityof the man came through:he was searching for words
and talking about matters
not easy to articulate. »Sadrian boot / urbanimage.tv

BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN
grants an informal
audience from thedizzy heights ofsuccess. Still, heremains earnest,
helpful and utterly
grounded. “The sellout doesn’t occur
when you take yourfirst limousine ride,”
he explains. “Ithappens in here…”

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 73

1981

a p r i l – J U NE

By the end of the hour I felt as though I’d made a new friend. That
intimacy comes through on record, and more so in his current threehour show, where the songs range from the deep emotion of “Darkness
On The Edge Of Town” to the vibrancy of “Rosalita”.
On the latter, Bruce, Gary Tallent, Clarence Clemons and Miami Steve
jump down into the audience to heighten the communication; performer
and listener look each other straight in the eye.
The same was true offstage; with the tape whirring, the conversation
we had could never have happened. So how do I know I haven’t misquoted
him? That’s just the price you pay.

rex features

B

ecause it’s been six years since he last played here, and theaura that surrounds him, Bruce Springsteen
has become a legend, an untouchable
saviour even. The mystique is perpetuated bystories of mammoth concerts that becomecelebrations, Bruce climbing billboards to deface
his posters, opening shows with “Badlands” onthe day of Ronald Reagan’s election.
And here, coming down the lobby of the hotel
Sofitel in Lyon, France, is Bruce with girlfriend Joyce.
“Going out to play golf?” jokes one of the road crew.
Along comes Dave Marsh, Springsteen biographer

Springsteen on stage
with E Street Bandtenor saxophone player
Clarence Clemons, 1981

74 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

and husband of tour manager Barbara Carr. “Us guys are going out tohave a look around the town right now, but we’ll be back later. Catch you
then.” And off he went to catch up with Bruce.
Six-thirty, and still no sign of the tickets for tonight’s show, so I head forthe bar. Two bearded, muscular technicians wearing Springsteen
T-shirts are sitting there.
“What time’s the show tonight?” I ask.
“There ain’t one,” says one of the guys. “Least we ain’t going to be there if
there is.” And they burst into laughter.
“What do you mean? I was told tonight.”“Like we said, no show. It’s tomorrow. The president’s got the hall tonightto make an election speech or somethin’. Gig’s cancelled. It’s tomorrow.”
I get that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I’ve only got enough money to stay tonight.
Then [journalist and Springsteen intimate]
Dave Marsh walks into the lobby. I explain mypredicament. “Don’t worry,” said Dave. “Bruce will
look after you.”
And the next night he did. After my firstSpringsteen concert, still suffering from “the firsttime you see Bruce glow”, as they call it, he welcomesme into his dressing room.
Bruce is wearing a tastefully embroidered shirt andsmells faintly of embrocation; I’m a bundle of nerves.
I stall for time and ask him about Robert De Niro.
Somewhere along the line I’d heard they were olddrinking buddies. Legend even has it that Bruce gave
Robert De Niro the immortal “Are you talking tome?” line from Taxi Driver.
“Nah,” says Bruce. “I met him a few times, but Clarence knows
him better. You should ask Clarence about him.”
It’s time to start talking seriously. How does he feel inretrospect about his early albums?
He grimaces. “Ah, I was kinda loose when I made thosealbums,” he says dismissively. “The other day, in fact, I was
driving home and ‘Blinded By The Light’ came on the radio
and…” He flicks an imaginary switch off in mid-air.
We move on to the infamous hype period that CBS
instigated for his dramatic Born To Run album. An album
that simultaneously nearly killed him, but instead set him up
as the Great White Hope.
“Well, one of the bad things about all that hype business,” says
Bruce in almost a whisper, “was that it made us look as though
we’d come up from nowhere, when we’d been playing the bars
for years before that.”
To get away from the intense pressure that followed, Bruce
packed his bags and headed for home: New Jersey, where he wasbrought up. There, he says, he discovered himself. As a kid henever bothered with reading books or any of that style. Back in
Jersey he started reading.
Could he give any titles? Bruce motions to the bags that havebeen packed and ready to go back to the hotel.
“I made a list, actually, of all the books I had read and were
important to me, but I guess it’s somewhere in there.” Currently
he’s engrossed in The History Of The United States.
Also in Jersey he discovered movies. “I started going to see
films for something else other than enjoyment.”
It was from this period of self-awareness that Darkness On
The Edge Of Town was created. Bruce had not only discovered
himself, but he’d also seen the lives of those around him. The
forces that had affected them.
He agrees now that Born To Run, his previous album to thisperiod of discovery about life and himself, did have “a lot of
overblown romance. But it still contained the seeds ofrealism.” Bruce points to the last verse of “Jungleland” asproof of this assertion.
These seeds of realism flowered on Darkness…. His toughest
album and most realistic, when it appeared in ’78 it locked inperfectly with the mood that punk had created in England. But
whereas punk was only starting to address the problems ofidentity and purpose, Bruce nailed the problem in one.
“Yeah, it’s funny that,” says Bruce, “because in America I
looked around and no one was writing about this kind of stuff.”

BRUCE SPRINGSTEENSHERRY DARLING

Later on, Bruce describes Darkness… as “a guy trying
to discover who he is and where he’s going to”.
Did he think Darkness… was optimistic? “Yeah, I
think so,” he affirms. “‘Badlands’ – that’s optimistic,raising yourself above it all.” We move on to The River.
He tells me that out of his five albums, this one ishis favourite.
I tell him that it seems to be a balance between
the romance and glory of Born To Run and thegritty, hard realism of Darkness….
Eagerly he agrees. To him, it’s so important tohave the two. “That’s why put ‘I Wanna Marry
You’ next to ‘The River’. ‘I Wanna Marry You’ isa guy who sees someone from a corner and assoon as he does it’s…” He motions with his hands
to try and articulate that first rush of blood andlove. “It’s…” he repeats, both of us laughing.
“But ‘The River’ itself balances that out,” hesays, getting serious again. “So you have the twoof them. And that’s important.” He goes on to
explain further. To him, during the ’70s, becauseof the things that have rocked the nations – “things like Watergate” –people have just lost the ability to dream.
“It’s been knocked out of people,” he says wistfully. What a part of hismusic does is try to re-establish that quality.
One of the reasons he loves rock’n’roll so much is because it gives people
such a vitality and sense of being alive. From “Anarchy In The UK” to“Born To Run”, anyone can testify to that vitality. Dreaming is a part ofthat sense of being alive, hence Bruce’s interest and stress on it.
Simultaneously, though, he realises that songs like “Cadillac Ranch” and“Fun, Fun, Fun” must be balanced by the kind of realism to be found on
Darkness…. “That’s just as important.”
There are other matters, too. Bruce sees himself and fellow E Streeterspresenting and representing some kind of idea. Part of that idea is toremain as accessible as ever. This is a Very Important Thing.
But how, I wonder, did Springsteen (who may finally be the man toreplace all those pathetic wasted songwriting teams of Plant and Page,
Richards and Jagger), balance that accessibility with the enormous
success he is now enjoying? On every single date of his European tour hehas sold out consistently. In Britain, 250,000 people wanted to see him at
Wembley. In Amsterdam they wanted to give him platinum records for
The River. He explains carefully and with great deliberation.
“I haven’t changed my way of living all that much, you know.” He’s
always been lucky enough to eschew the trappings that come withsuccess. It’s something he hasn’t found hard to do.
“I don’t know if I can articulate this properly,” he says, frowning. “Butthis room (he gestures to the quite large place we’re sitting in) and money,
it’s there but it’s not important. It’s not the end.
“You see, the sell-out doesn’t occur when you take your first limousine
ride. It happens in here,” thumping his heart. “And somewhere private.”
The reason it hadn’t happened to him was because he wasn’t built in a
way that he could be sucked into it.
“A lot of good people with something to say have fallen into that trap,”
he says quietly. “It’s when you get fat and lose your hunger,” he stresses.
“That is when you know the sell-out has happened.”That’s why that trip back to Jersey was so important for him round about
the time of Born To Run, when he first walked into enormous success.
Because he knew who he was, where he was coming from and what he
was writing about, he could see the dangers inherent in succumbing
to the temptations. “Darkness… was the first album where, afterwards,
I saw myself as a man at last and not a kid any more.”
Another reason for his ability to be true is the people he surrounds
himself with. Good people who guided him and protected him, but not ina cotton-wool manner. Honest people.
Bruce’s writing has changed a great deal now, a fact he readily admits.
“I’m not writing for the people I grew up with as a kid,” he snorts, “because
they’re all married with a dog and kids now.”
He writes about himself and the way he sees things now. As a man. He
hopes that the people who come to see the show are able to feel a two-way
thing with the band. Each party can look into each other’s eyes.
Did religion ever affect him, I wonder? He shakes his head and tells of
how, at an early age, he realised that the people teaching it relied on fear to
instil it in him.

bruce springsteen

He looks up at the ceiling when he’s saying all thisand I tell him that’s exactly why I stay in bed on
Sundays now. You shouldn’t have to look up to
anything. “That’s it!” he shouts, grabbing my arm.
“It should be like this,” and we’re face to face.
Time now, though, is running out. People
keep entering the dressing room to take things
out to the truck and they keep giving Brucelightning glances.
Sensing this, I ask him what else is good about
the band and the music he’s playing. Puttingout his hands, he stresses how music has
become far too divided.
“It’s stupid,” he says, “if you like this music
and can’t like that music. And if you like thatmusic you can’t like this music. That’s how it’sgotten and we aim to smash all that. Transcend
those barriers.
“We get all kinds of ages at our gigs and that’s
great.” At this point Dave Marsh enters the
dressing room to tell us he’s going and clearly,
though we’ve only touched the tip of the iceberg, enough is enough.
When Joyce comes in a minute later it really is time to go.
As we pack up our stuff I ask Bruce a last question about a story he had
told on stage that night. It had been told as an introduction to Bruce’s
version of Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land”, and concerned thetime Bruce and Miami Steve had played a gig in Memphis and afterwards
decided to visit Elvis’ house at about three in the morning.
“Was that true?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” smiles Bruce. “Actually, me and Steve were hungry and we
asked this taxi driver where the best place to eat was. He said Gracelands
and I said, ‘Forget the food, let’s go see Elvis.’”Which is what the boys did. The taxi driver wasn’t too keen on the idea,
however, and kept warning them about the dogs and guards thatsurrounded the house. Bruce took no notice and just told him to keep
driving. When they all got there, Bruce scaled up the wall to Elvis’ houseand started up the driveway. As he got nearer he could see that there wasonly one light on in the entire house.
Suddenly from out the woods, out stepped a guard.
“What do you want?” he asked, his gun hanging from his hip. “I cometo see Elvis,” Bruce said innocently.
“He ain’t here,” the guard replied. “He’s in Lake Tahoe.”
Figuring that the guard was lying, and glancing once more at thatwindow with its light shining bright, Bruce explained he was in a band.
They’d played Memphis that night. They were quite a popular band.
In fact, Bruce had been on the cover of Newsweek (“And I never tellanyone that,” laughs Bruce, “which shows what a cheap shot it was.”).
The guard remained unimpressed. “Well, can you tell him I called?”
asked Bruce. The guard said he would and Bruce walked back down
the drive, glancing over his shoulder at that one room.
“And you know,” says Bruce, “that light in that room… it just had to
be Elvis.”
As long as he keeps thinking that, then the Promised Land is still onlyround the corner.

“Darkness…
was the firstalbum where
I saw myself
as a man”

W

hat’s he really like? On my return to England I heardthat phrase more times than I care to mention. And theanswer was always the same.
Bruce Springsteen is rare. Rare in that he is totally unlike any rock star
– or whatever the phrase is – that I’ve come across. He actually is himself,
not an image. There’s no falseness, no show, no pretensions.
He knows who he is and he isn’t ashamed, nor does he try to hidehimself. And he’s intelligent, immensely likeable, a little vulnerable,
moral, strong. And above all, alive.
He refuses to go under, come Watergate or Reagan. Two incidents in
Rotterdam last week show the kind of man he is.
After the first gig, a party was held to give Bruce some platinum records.
Dick Asher, who is a very important person within his record company’s
scheme of things, had flown in to make the presentation.
Only Bruce didn’t make it. He felt ill. And his first responsibility is to his
audience, not to bigshots. Earlier that night he had stood up and sung“This Land Is Your Land”. He’d changed one of the last lines to “FromCalifornia to the streets of Brixton”. Paolo Hewitt •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 75

1981

a p r i l – J U NE

Gut force

MM jun 6 Bruce Springsteen’s show is predictably great.

T

RYING TO WRITE abouta Bruce Springsteen
concert without
reinforcing the man’s reputation
for scarcely believable stage
performances is like trying tocross the Atlantic in a paper
yacht. Do it and you’re sunk.
The simple fact is, when you
see Springsteen for the first time
any lingering doubts about theyards of superlatives that havebeen heaped on him over theyears evaporate like ether. When
Springsteen’s up there on stage
a lifetime’s hopes, passions andfrustrations explode in an
uninhibited cry
matched onlyby the sense of
exhilarationand freedom
a mountaineer
must feelon reaching
the summit.
And ifat times
Springsteen
strays too near the edge andstumbles down the slopes
towards sentimentality, it’s a slip
that’s dwarfed by the magnitudeof his overall achievement.
I must confess my biases.
When Born To Run came out in1975 I used to literally rush home
to play it, and I still regard it as myfavourite rock album of all time.
So when I heard the E Street
band playing “Backstreets” – myfavourite rock track of all time
– at Brighton with a force thatmatched and even surpassed theintensity of the original, I was
swept along on a tidal wave ofoverwhelming emotion.
With The River, Springsteen
seemed to have lost his touch,often descending into banality;
most of the “rockers” appeared
to be different versions of thesame song, and tracks like
“Sherry Darling” and “Hungry
Heart” seemed lightweight incomparison with much of his
earlier work.
Since the concert I’ve realisedthat The River is not An Album inthe same sense as Born To Run or
Darkness On The Edge Of Town,
but should be seen as a recordthat closely follows the dynamics
of a live Springsteen show; anepic that balances the hedonistic
joy of rock with the more complex
exploration of the humanemotions that characterised

earlier songs like “Badlands” and“The Promised Land”.
But the songs are only part ofthe story. The recordings only
hint at the power that the
E Street Band achieve on
stage; they begin with thekind of gut force that mostbands only begin toachieve at the end of set.
And of course there’s
Bruce’s famed athleticachievements on thefloorboards, though themost surprising thing about
watching him is how he refuses
to fit the traditional mould ofrock superstar
as demigod,
but rather
melts down
the barrier
between artist
and performer.
Springsteencertainly
doesn’t look
like a rock star
– short andalmost stocky, with none of theexaggerated sexuality of a Stingor a Jagger – and he wasn’t
perfect. Sometimes the clowningand hamming went too far, suchas when two “doctors” tried toforce him off stage on a stretcher
near the end of the set (a short
one by his standards, two-and-ahalf hours including two encores).
Occasionally the heartfelt
honesty strayed into slush
territory, going too near to theover-the-top sentimentality of
hardcore country & western inthe new song “Johnny Bye Bye”
(about Elvis Presley’s death), andsounding uncomfortably close to
the sickly John Denver on Woody
Guthrie’s “This Land Is YourLand” (although Denver would
never include a line about “thestreets of Brixton”).
But complaining too muchabout points like that would
be like winning a Rolls-Roycein a Kellogg’s competition
and moaning because thewindscreen washers don’t work.
The sceptics among you areprobably going to write this off
as yet another predictable“over the top” Bruce Springsteen
review, but the power of Bruceand the E Street Band on stage
is enough to move even theemotionally crippled.
Disbelieve at your own cost.

BrightOn Centre
BrightOn

LIVE!
May 27rex features

Occasionally theheartfelt honesty
strayed too near tothe sentimentalityof hardcore C&W

76 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

Lynden Barber

Springsteen on
stage in Brighton:
his records only
hint at the E Street
Band’s live power

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 77

-THE
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Readers’ letters

1981

Ja n u a r y – J une

MM/NME JAN-JUN Hardin missed, Sabbath defended, Haley recalled and more…

Order of business“The name ‘New Order’ hasnothing to do with Nazis” –Alan Erasmus, Factory Records(Gasbag, February 21).
Do you need any moreconvincing?
Incidentally, I seem to remember
an America band called New
Order which included ex-Stooges.
Dominic, London W2 (NME Feb 28)
Our American correspondent
writes: “Guitarist Ron Asheton, who
was indeed a Stooge, formed a band
called The New Order in 1975 in LA
and their ’77 LP sleeve featured
Nazi uniforms and assorted regalia.
Ron (now a waiter in a vegetarian
restaurant – fact!) is famous in the
Midwest for his huge collection ofNazi gear and he wore some of it as
far back as 1969, when with The
Stooges. He went on to form thepathetic Destroy All Monsters andis an all-round helluva nice guy.”
So Factory’s New Order arecertainly keeping nice company.
Don’t you think it’s about time theychanged their stupid name? – Ed

RIP Tim Hardin
Many thanks for Colin Irwin’s
honest tribute to Tim Hardin justwhen it seemed his death wasgoing to warrant scarcely any
attention at all. Unlike Lennon we
won’t have three lovely songs in
the Top 10 to listen to. In fact, hisrecords were never easy to get andwill probably be impossible to findnow. Just imagine a TOTP with
“Hang On To A Dream”, “Misty
Rose” and “If I Were A Carpenter”
on – what a dream.
GRAHAM VARNEY, Spring Bank
West, Hull (MM Jan 24)

virginia turbett / gettY

Bruce talk costs lives
On reading Paolo Hewitt’s
Springsteen interview I wasamazed to see the words “thosepathetic, wasted songwriting
teams of Plant and Page, Richards
and Jagger”. Where has this guy
been for the last 15 years?
Does he really think that people
who can write such classics as“Moby Dick”, “Whole Lotta Love”
and the powerful “Stairway To
Heaven” (deemed by millions tobe the greatest ever rock song) are
pathetic? Or that Their Satanic
Majesties Request is a wasted
album? It makes me wonder if he
has ever even heard of the Rolling
Stones or Led Zep. I am a firm

believer in everyone holding theirown opinion, and this character
Hewitt may not like these bands
or this type of music, but to callthem pathetic and wasted is toinsult the intelligence of millionsof dedicated fans.
By making such a statement hehas done his own reputation asa rock critic (sic) no great service
and I, for one, will read his futureofferings with a pinch of salt.
TONY MURCOTT, Wolfscastle,
Dyfed (MM May 30)

Off colour remarks
After reading your May 9 issue,
I feel you have gone too far. First –you implied on April 25 that fromthen on MM was going to be
filled with superb colour photos.
They were dreadful; the one of
Bruce Springsteen was blurred.
Compare those with the qualityof a good photo.
You also make no priorannouncement or explanation
about the price increase. The
price increase would have been
worthwhile if all your issues were64 pages long, but in the following
week’s issue there were only 48
pages in black and white and filledwith very poor quality journalism.
As usual, there was an article
making out some obscure group
to be the most important
contribution to rock music in thedecade (Depeche Mode). Whatangered me even more was a
direct transcription of a Radio 1
interview with Randy California
by John Tobler. Admittedly, he did
the interview for Radio 1, but there
is still no excuse; this is a music
mag, not the Radio Times.
Please return to the standards
you had back in the good old daysof 1978, when I first started
reading MM and all issues werefilled with at least 64 pages ofgood journalism.
ALISTAIR McAULAY, Sandyford,
Co Dublin, Ireland (MM May 30)

Heavy words
If you can’t find anything good towrite about Black Sabbath, please
don’t bother yourselves writing
anything. In a recent live review
you again hammered themruthlessly into the ground. I’m notjust another headbanger, but I
have a great interest in other rockforms, such as Tull, Floyd, Kansas,
Crawler. I also support Genesis.
The critic responsible for thereview almost stated that Sabbath
is a combination of four very
undesirable persons, whose
unsurpassed lack of talent serves
as a lesson to all. If Iommi can’t
play lead guitar and Geezer can’t
play bass and so on, how comethey sell out all their concerts?
How is it that nine out of their ninestudio albums are peaches?
Sabs can still boogie with thebest of them – Saxon, Iron Maiden,
whoever you care to mention.
Also, please let Led Zeppelin restin peace. In a recent review ofUFO’s latest album, I saw the word
Zeppelinesque. I wonder is it acase of Led Zeppelin are dead but
won’t lie down. I hope not.
I’m proud of Sabbath. They may
be old and creaking in places, but
that’s part of their appeal; that andgreat music.
BILL PERRY, Belfast, Northern
Ireland (MM Feb 7)

Haley! Haley!
Rock’n’roll
It must have been
about 1957. I was
about eight years old at the time.
We used to have one of those oldaccumulator radios high up ona shelf in the kitchen. I vaguelyrecall enjoying the songs I heard onthat radio: “Tea For Two”, “Swedish
Rhapsody”, “Love And Marriage”,
and then one day this record cameout of the radio and took over thewhole room. The song was “RockAround The Clock”. Bill Haley was
the beginning.
ALAN GRIFFEY, Thurlow Road,
Torquay (MM Apr 4)

New music, please
Why is it that Radio 1 insists uponchurning out 10 or 15-year-oldclassic records? It is sad that today,
when there is so much new talent(notably U2, Comsat Angels, etc),
we are still inundated with Presley,
Haley, Lennon and the like.
MARK HURST, Brook Street,
Macclesfield (MM Apr 4)
HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 79

i1981

July – sep tember

iggy pop, thE spEciALs,
WAh!, scottish bANds,
soft cELL ANd MorE

“We never had
trouble there”
NME JUL 11 What happened whena skinhead band played a pub gig
in an Asian neighbourhood.

he morning after the night before,
the Hambrough Tavern in the West London
suburb of Southall was a smouldering,
blackened shell.
Only an end-wall bearing the forlorn sign “A
Traditional English Pub” remained to remind the
curious crowds of onlookers of its former identity.
The previous evening, Friday, the Hambroughhad played host to its last-ever live attraction –The 4-Skins, The Last Resort and The Business– and to the hundreds of skinheads who
descended on the area from outside. By 11pm, thepub was in flames and the streets surrounding it
were the scene of pitched battles between thepolice and young Asians, whose community
makes up the majority of Southall’s population.
It was a fully fledged race riot, as serious as thedisturbance which gripped the St Paul’s area ofBristol last year and Brixton in London earlier
this year. Within 24 hours, the Toxteth district ofLiverpool was ablaze as well – violent clashes andlooting culminating, on Sunday night, with thepolice’s use of CS gas for the first time on the
British mainland.
The scale of the rioting was to eclipse anythingthat had gone before. But certain things make »rex features

T60

July 3, 1981: in
Southall, on thewestern fringeof London, theHambroughTavern burns
after a gig byEast End Oi!
band The 4-SkinsHISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 81

1981

Ju ly – sep t ember
the name The Cavern,
for promoting local acts
– helped out on one
occasion by Ruts DC,
themselves from the same
part of Middlesex.
Ex-promoter Marc Hall,
however, who ran the gigs
under his “Not So FamousMusic” logo, was recently
told by the owners that The
Cavern had to close. In its
place, the pub would run
live music upstairs, andlook for bigger names topull in the crowds.
The 4-Skins booking was
one of the first undertakenon the basis of this newpolicy. Other acts were toinclude Cock Sparrer and
The Byrom Band. “I don’t
think they know what
they’re doing there,” saysHall. “The Cavern was acompletely peaceful place.
We never had trouble
there.” Landlord PaulMcInver was away at thetime of the incident.
For their part, the local
police say the only priorindication they had of
possible trouble was a tipoff that something might
happen in Greenford, a few
miles away. Consequently
they turned up in thewrong place, and there wasno significant police
presence in the vicinity of
the Hambrough when
violence did break out.
Trouble began in theearly evening withskinhead attacks on Asianshops in the high street,causing a 400-strong crowd of Asian youths
to lay siege to the pub where the skinheads
later went to watch The 4-Skins’ set.
When police reinforcements did arrive,
their priority was to form a cordon
around the pub and get the skinhead
faction away. But they couldn’t prevent
the Asians from venting their rage on
the building itself by destroying it withparaffin bombs.
In Southall on Saturday morning,
Asian youths were to be found giving
impromptu press briefings along thepavement to the hordes of whitejournalists. Those I spoke to were
bitterly dismissive of police claims thatthe trouble came as a surprise. “Theymust have known,” said one. “They’re
not that stupid.”
According to another, some sort ofconfrontation was taken for granted assoon as The 4-Skins’ appearance wasannounced, some days previously.
Indeed, the word to be heard mostfrequently on locals’ lips on Saturday
was “protection” – both as a justification
Cars, vans andshops were burntout during theSouthall riot

Southall different. Unlike
the other trouble spots, forinstance, it is not a toughand run-down inner-city
ghetto, but a normallyquiet residential area,
notably free of racial
tension. But because ofits dense concentrationof immigrants, it has asymbolic significance forboth sides of the race issue. It was this thatmade Southall a flashpoint in 1979 when a
National Front meeting in the Town Hall led toa clash with Anti-Nazi demonstrators, in thecourse of which Blair Peach, a New Zealandteacher, lost his life.
What also sets the Southall riot apart fromthe others is the clear suggestion that it flared
up as a result of provocation from outside – inthe form of two coachloads of allegedly fascist
skinheads arriving from the East End in buses
laid on by The Last Resort’s manager – as
opposed to the spontaneous eruption oftensions within the area itself.
And that poses a couple of questions whichhave not, as yet, been entirely answered.
One curious aspect of the affair must be
the decision of the Hambrough Tavern tobook a group like The 4-Skins who, regardlessof their own motives and beliefs, have at least
the reputation of attracting militant rightwing supporters. To do so at a popular local
gathering place in a predominantly Asian highstreet seems unusually insensitive.
Until three weeks ago the downstairs room of
the Tavern was regularly used as a club, underrex features

Trouble began in theearly evening withskinhead attacks
on Asian shops in
the high street

82 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

for the youths’ massive turn-out the night
before, and as an indication of their resolve toabandon the passive stance associated with
Asian immigrants in the past.
Caught physically in the middle, the police’srole the night before was undeniably difficultand dangerous, but to the Asians, their action
was seen as a defence of the fascists’ right to“invade” a peaceful area. What is beyond doubt
is that Asian confidence in the authorities’ability/willingness to defend them has hit an
all-time low.
The police are, as ever, reluctant to ascribe a
racialist motive to the white youths’ arrival inSouthall. But this contrasts with the statementsof Asian witnesses. They say that the skinheads– generally held to have numbered 200 – turned
up in vans, taxis and coaches, the last bedeckedwith racist slogans and symbols, and went
down the high street to the pub causing damage
and shouting racist abuse. When skinheads
smashed the windows of the Maharajah Stores,a grocery, and abused the owner’s wife, Mrs
Nirmal Kalhan, her daughter phoned friends
for help, and soon the youths of the entire
community were galvanised into action.
And leaflets promoting a “white nationalistic
crusade” were in evidence at the pub itself,
where the bar staff barricaded themselves intoa back room when the attack began. Of course,
it’s highly unlikely that anyone could haveforeseen the ferocity with which Southall
exploded on Friday night – although in anage of rising racist violence, much of it well
documented, and against a background of
economic decay, few can claim to have been
altogether surprised.
If the Hambrough Tavern was unwise toaccept the booking, then they’ve certainly
paid a heavy price for their mistake. Whether
the police could be more alert to the dangers
presented by extremist provocation is anotherquestion, now the subject of an official inquiry.
Twenty-four people will appear in court on July
16, on charges connected with the riot.
Perhaps the least that anyone involved in rockmusic can do is to ensure that never again are
their actions suspected of helping to fan the
flames. Paul Du Noyer

J u ly – september1981

the 4-Skins’
vocalist Garyhodges: alleges“tampering”“We can’t get gigs”

T

he 4-SkinS’ firSt appearance since their illfated Southall gig broke up in confusion on Friday
amid allegations of sabotage. The band wereforced to leave the stage after a mysterious series ofpower cuts which they believe were made deliberately.
Ironically, they’d set out that night to prove that theirgigs could run smoothly as anyone else’s. They’darranged the booking at a small pub in Mottingham,South-East London, under the nameof The Skans, with support band The
Business going out as Bollyguns.
They’d invited only friends and press,
including a BBC film crew. And
everyone was on good behaviour,band and fans alike.
“Since Southall, we can’t get gigs
under our own name, and not as
many shops as we’d like are taking
our single,” said Gary Hitchcock,4-Skins’ manager, before the gig.
“No one believed a word we said
about Southall. As far as they wereconcerned, we went down there for
ONE LAW
trouble and that was it. Hopefully,
we’re going to use tonight’s gig toshow that we can play without any
aggravation… to say to people, ‘Comeon, give us a chance.’“We’ve had to keep it quiet because
you do get morons who think it’s thething to do to go to a 4-Skins concert,go ‘Sieg Heil!’ and smash 13-year-old
kids in the mouth. But it’s not like that.
We’ve played some right rough places without any
trouble. And if we got another Southall, we’d have to callit a day. So tonight we want to set the right example.”Things started off smoothly enough. The Businessfinished their set without incident, referring to the Oi!
controversy before their own version of Sham 69’s “Tell
Us The Truth”: “This is for the media who didn’t want toknow the truth…”

MM AUG 29 Post-Southall, The
4-Skins attempt a comeback.

And so to the 4-Skins, whose set began encouragingly
enough. They were playing strongly and well without
giving or getting any provocation and there wasn’t a“Sieg Heil” in sight. But then came the power cuts, firstin one number, and then another, and another. With
them came the worry that the growing frustration mightboil over into something unpleasant.
It didn’t. Half the crowd eventually got up on stage
and helped the band finish
singing a number without any
power at all. A potentially angry
situation was defused, and thegroup went off.
It was at this point, though,that several characters decided
to continue the show themselves,
bellowing out choruses of “Rule
Britannia” and the National
Anthem with a defiance thatwas notably out of keeping withthe general atmosphere of theevening. They did the band an
enormous disservice.
FOR THEM
Afterwards, vocalist Gary Hodges
J
commented: “That singing would
never have happened if we’d beenable to play the full set. I suppose it
was a reaction. Most people were
happy just singing along with us when
the power went.
“I think someone was tamperingwith the power on purpose. I’m wellsick. We had the makings of a good
gig and it got spoilt.”
A spokesman for the pub said the power cut off
automatically when the music reached a certain level.
But no one could explain why this hadn’t happened
during the soundcheck or The Business’ set.
Despite this latest setback, The 4-Skins look likely
to persevere with their comeback campaign, andmore secret gigs are expected. Carol Clerk

ÒIÕm well sick. We
had the makingsof a good gig andit got spoiltÓ

➤ At last – the fulldetails of theupcoming Stones
album, which is
intriguingly, titled
Rolling Stones
Tattoo You. It comesout on the band’s
Rolling Stones label
on August 31. It’s to
get a simultaneous
release throughout
the world – the idea
being to cut out thepossibility of salesof import albums.
The 11 new tracks
featured are: “Start
It Up”, “Hang Fire”,“Slave”, “Bulldog(Little T & A)”,“Black Limousine”.
“Neighbours”,“Worried AboutYou”, “Tops”,“Heaven”, “Ain’t No
Use” and “Waiting
On A Friend”.
“Slave” features
Pete Townshend on
guitar and back-up
vocals. MM Aug 1➤ Despite his
withdrawal from live
performances, Gary
Numan releases a
new studio album
on September 4.
The album, Dance,
is Numan’s firststudio album since
Telekon last year,
and features 11 new
Numan tunes,
including the single“She’s Got Claws”.
MM Aug 29➤ With the releaseof Bob Dylan’s new
album Shot Of Loveon CBS, Dylan fansmight be interested
to know that Dylan’srecording debut has
recently been madeavailable on the
RCA International
budget label. The
Harry Belafonte
album The MidnightSpecial is now
available foraround three quid,featuring Dylan on
harmonica on thetitle track. MM Aug 29
HISTORY OF ROCK 1976
1981 | 83

1981

Ju ly – sep t ember

february 15, 1980:
Prince performingat theBottomXxxxx
xxxxlinexxxx
in New
xxx York City

“It’s not outrageous”
MM JUN 6 Introducing… Prince. “I don’t try to do anything toshock people or to make money – that would make me a hooker.”

waring abbott / gettyT

he quiet little man with bovine,brown eyes and a whisper of a ’tachestares absent-mindedly out of the hotel
window across London’s rain-swept rooftops.
“Actually,” he decides finally withpronounced hesitation, “I think it’s much
more embarrassing talking about thesethings than doing them. I mean, I find it a loteasier to sing swear words than to say them.
And when I first had a girl, I found it really hard
to tell my mother, but Lord knows, I didn’t feelembarrassed while I was doing it to her.”
The man shifts in his seat, fidgets with his
fingers and smiles uneasily. He’s nervous – so
nervous he gives me the jitters. I remember
the quote from the New York Times: “With hissassy grace and precocious musicality he isheir to the defiant rock’n’roll tradition of Elvis

84 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

Presley, Jimi Hendrix and Mick Jagger.”
I look again at the slightly dishevelled figure
sitting before me and figure I must be in thewrong room. Just to check, I ask for his history
and, yep, believe it or not, this is definitely
Prince. Christened by his father – a jazzmusician – from his fictitious stage name,Prince is the fairytale storyof a juvenile runaway whoreally made good. At only
20 he has two platinum
albums behind him in theStates and a third, Dirty
Mind, rapidly approaching
the mark despite a total
airplay ban owing to therisqué sexual overtonesof its lyrics. Already acritically lauded
star back home, andaccompanied bya wild reputation,
he’s now making his
first tentative foray
into the foreign
market with a oneoff show at the Lyceum.
The first thing I was burning toknow was what made a man referred
to as the “solo Bee Gees of the libido”
by Rolling Stone on account of his
falsetto vocals and naughty-naughtysongs, take to the stage, with his fivepiece band, dressed in a studded
leather coat, Y-fronts and black thighlength tights?
“To me it’s not outrageous, it’s
comfortable,” he replies, trying toforce a smile. “I’ve always dressed theway I’ve wanted to, and if it goes withthe music it’s only because the music
is part of me and so is the way I dress.
I don’t try to do anything to shock
people or to make money – that would
make me a hooker.”
Prince is not a prat but neither is he
the wunderkind America desperately
tries to make him out to be. He’s
accomplished – he’s master of 26
instruments, composes and plays
virtually everything on all his albums
and is the youngest person ever toself-produce for Warner Brothers –he’s flash, intelligent, a bit too selfobsessed for easy conversation, alittle bit silly and kinda strange too.
Things like his father leaving home,
his brother flitting in and out of slamand a period lodging with his sister all
seem to hold a fathomless fascination
for him and he constantly calls upon
his past, almost endowing it withsome spiritual significance, as hestruggles to explain the motives
behind his music.
“I saw an analyst once because I
was wondering why I was so sexualminded and why I wanted to go
against the grain so much, because
it got me into a lotta trouble a lotta
times,” he reluctantly confides. “Heasked me to talk about my childhood– y’know, ‘when you first experienced
this and first experienced that’. I
realised that, when I was young, I used to readmy mother’s dirty novels and I was more takenwith them than anything – it was a lot better
than comic books.”This apparent self-discovery has, he claims,
not only enabled him to develop as a more full,
unfettered personality, but has given him new
confidence in his work.
“It was a revelation
recording this last album,”he explains more excitedly.
“I realised that I could write
just what was on my mind
and things that I’dencountered, and I didn’t
have to hide anything. The
lyric on the new album isstraight from the heart,“My problem isthat my attitude’s
so sexual that it
overshadows
everything else”

J u ly – september

1981➤ A high court
judge has orderedthat the one existing
copy of the world’s
rarest Beatles single
should be handed
over to Paul
McCartney’s
solicitors. Owner ofthe single is John
Lowe; a former
occasional memberof The Quarrymen,
under which name it
was recorded in
1958. Tracks are
Lennon’s rendition
of “That’ll Be The
Day” and a Harrison/
McCartney song
entitled “In Spite
Of All The Danger”.
MM Aug 1
madness: taking
steps to preventthe sale of Nf
pamphlets at gigs

Policy statement

MM AUG 15 Madness articulate their anti-racism.

Madness have issued a policy statement on racism,
following claims that neo-Nazi organisations have been
recruiting at their concerts. The allegations, which refer toMadness, Bad Manners and other bands, are made in a reportby the Centre For Contemporary Studies.
Madness say:l They do not support any political group which has racist policies.
l Their career has been inspired by musicians like the Jamaican
Prince Buster; their single “The Prince” came out on a label belonging
to The Specials – a multiracial group – and they fail to see how anyone
could assume that they supported any racist group.
l They joined forces with the promoters of their Hammersmith
Odeon concerts to try to prevent the sale of National Front literature
outside.
l They do not support racist policies, and they urge their fans to jointhem in speaking out against racism.

“A few tracks…”
MM AUG 8 A new band for Robert Plant.

R
T hr
I

♦'nnvnnvroU

Wag

President Signs
Gun Control A

umours of a collaboration between Robert Plant,
John Paul Jones and Cozy Powell were fuelled this week
by confirmation that the intrepid trio have been recording
together at Rockfield Studios.
Speculation began when Robert Plant’s occasional band The
Honeydrippers pulled out of a recent Dingwalls gig, with the former
Zeppelin vocalist said to be restructuring the group.
A spokesman close to Cozy Powell said: “Cozy was recording
a few tracks for Robert Plant, but I don’t know what it was theyrecorded. He was booked for a session, but then he’s done sessionsfor Graham Bonnet, Jeff Beck, Bernie Marsden… you name themand he’s done sessions for them.”
At Swan Song, Zeppelin’s old company, a pressperson said: “I’ve
passed your enquiry on to Robert’s manager Peter Grant, and if hehasn’t rung you back, then they haven’t got anything to say.”➤ At last, a Neil
Young film you canactually see. Rust
Never Sleeps
opens at the Screen
On The Green,
Islington, on August
27 for three weeks.
The 108-minute film
was shot during
Young’s 1979 US
tour with Crazy
Horse. The Neil
Young Appreciation
Society are
considering
petitioning Youngto tour over here,
and a magazine –Broken Arrow – isbeing prepared.
MM Aug 22➤ A new Bob
Marley album,
Chances Are,
containing eightpreviously
unreleased tracks is
to be released by
WEA Internationalon September 25.
Six of the songs
were written by
Marley, and thewhole set spans a
10-year period of his
recording career.
His widow, Rita, isfeatured on backing
vocals. A single,“Reggae On
Broadway”, is due.
MM Aug 29
HISTORY OF ROCK 1976
1981 | 85�fin costello / getty

whereas the other albums were more
feelings, more dreams and fantasies, andthey stuck to the more basic formulas that I’dlearned through playing Top 40 material inold bands. That’s probably why they were so
big, but that’s really upsetting for me
because you say to yourself, ‘Well, do I justwanna be real big or do I wanna do something
I’ll be proud of and really enjoy playing?’“‘I Wanna Be Your Lover’, was a big hit off
the second album,” he continues, “but it was
hard for me to play that song after a while. I’ll
never get sick of playing the stuff from the
Dirty Mind album, because I’ll always
remember what state of mind I was enduring
the time it was recorded.”
The frankness of the third album, dealing
with strictly taboo subjects like incest andlesbianism, was bound to keep it off the radio
despite its seductive disco settings, but thesubsequent notoriety ensured the sales, andanyway, according to Prince: “The sales
weren’t important. There were points, I must
admit, on the first two albums where I was
writing to get a hit, but that was too easy.
I don’t like to do things that are easy – it’smore of a challenge for me to write exactly
what happened, exactly what I feel at thatparticular time. If I think a certain thought andI put it down on paper exactly like I hear it in
my head, that’s a challenge to me as a writer.
“More than my songs have to do with sex,”
he says, “they have to do with one human’s
love for another, which goes deeper thananything political that anybody could
possibly write about. The need for love, theneed for sexuality, basic freedom, equality…
I’m afraid these things don’t necessarily comeout. I think my problem is that my attitude’s sosexual that it overshadows anything else, that
I might not be mature enough as a writer tobring it all out yet…
“I’m gonna stop this soon,” he suddenly
spurts. “I don’t expect to make many morerecords for the simple reason that I wannasee my life change. I wanna be there when it
changes. I don’t wanna just be doing what’s
expected of me. I just wanna live… until it’stime to die…”
He trails off and that’s the end of theinterview. I rise; reach the door and turn tosay goodbye, but he’s already back there,gazing out the window. I remember a linefrom one of his songs – “Sex-related fantasy is
all that my mind can see” – and ponder on thedark, mysterious beauty turning tricks in theprivate bedroom of his mind. Steve Sutherland

1981

j u l y – s e p t em b e r“Unique,that’s theword you’relooking for”
— MELODY MAKER AUGUST 22 —he myth of London as the cradle of Britain’s rock culture
has crumbled dramatically in recent years. It began with
Birmingham’s 2-Tone label, then Factory emerged from
Manchester, and Zoo and Inevitable from Liverpool. And
if any confirmation was needed that London no longer
dominated the industry, it’s come this month with a fierce
onslaught on the big city from a surge of genuinely exciting new talentfrom Scotland.
The Scots resurgence has been engineered by the fierce independence ofboy genius (and world musical authority) Alan Horne, who founded Postcard
Records in Glasgow, while Fast Product supremo Bob Last gave Edinburgh asecond David to attack Goliath – Pop: Aural.
While some bands, like the Scars, still looked to London for their fortune, thebands fostered by Horne and Last determinedly made their records north of
the border, and left the kilts to Spandau Ballet. The result is a new belief andcommitment in Scots rock, and a new incentive for local bands who suddenly
saw that they could flourish beyond the jaded circuits and played-out ritualsof the Southern metropolis.
Yet, unlike 2-Tone and Factory, the new Scottish labels are not in
pursuit of some special and ultimately inhibiting “sound” of their own,
as this month’s invasion by Pop: Aural’s Fire Engines and Postcard’s
Orange Juice, Aztec Camera, and Josef K has so clearly proved.
So what of the others? Is Aztec’s Roddy Frame really Stevie Wonder
and Paul McCartney rolled into one? Do the Fire Engines dress up in
silly uniforms? And how existentialist can Josef K get?
You may not find all the answers here, but it’ll be as near as dammit. »kerstin rodgers / gettyT86 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

A trip to Scotland
to investigate newmusical stirrings fromAZTEC CAMERA, FIRE
ENGINES and JOSEF K.
Things are certainly
looking up. “I used tohave a bleak outlook
on life,” says Roddy
Frame. “But then thesun came out…”

I

Aztec Camera’s
Roddy Frame :“All the early
stuff I wrote
was very punk”

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 87

1981

j u l y – s e p t em b e r

AZTEC CAMERAE

ast Kilbride, GlasGow’s overspill satellite, is the home of
Scotland’s brightest pearl, Aztec Camera. Down its cold, grey
streets lives an unassuming trio whose music will break themeanest heart of stone. Armed with only their hopes and songs, theycame to London for the first time ever this month to play just their
third show of the year, and held The Venue’s normally blasé audiencein rapt attention for over an hour.
They were hauled back for a triumphant encore, and were paid one of thelargest fees in their short career – £125! As 17-year-old Roddy Frame, thegroup’s singer, writer and guitarist, said afterwards: “It was a great gig – wedon’t usually react with an audience like that. We’re usually very shy!”
Having only heard, and loved, their first single,“Just Like Gold”/“We Could Send Letters”,
the depth and relaxed confidence of theirperformance came like a revelation, giving
credence to the ravings of Postcard’s Alan Horne.
Persuaded by Josef K’s Malcolm Ross to see
the Aztecs support The Rezillos, Horne wassufficiently moved to write later: “It was likestumbling into Max’s to find The Velvet
Underground, but this Lou Reed was 16 and theaudience were 61. We had all been provenwrong; there was another group in Glasgow
apart from Orange Juice.”
Apart from their youthful charm, Aztec
Camera are distinguished by Roddy Frame’s
gift for singing and writing songs that are driven by
the most exquisite, twisting melodies, and sculpted
into dynamics subtle enough to be called serene.
It was back in 1979 that Roddy formed the groupwith drummer Dave Mulholland and bassist Alan
Welsh, since departed and replaced by Campbell
Owens. “David and I were in a group called Neutral
Blue,” Roddy told me. “I was the lead guitarist and weused to do stuff like ‘White Riot’.”
Prophetic stuff, perhaps, though today they choose
one of The Clash’s milder statements of early intent,“Garageland”, as one of the two cover versions intheir set – the other being the Parkinson theme tune! How such a catholictaste in material is rendered into a cogent whole remains a mystery.
As the tropical storm raging in North London competes against thegroup’s soft, musical voices, Campbell explains how the inclusion of“Garageland” is more a happy coincidence than a rediscovered paean toforgotten principles.
“We were practising in a friend’s garage and someone suggested we do it
as a joke. I suppose we are a bit of a garage band, though, but that’s because
we haven’t got anywhere else to practise, so if anybody’s got any offers!”
The unaffected maturity in Roddy’s latest songs could not be further
from the three-chord thrash that would later mutate into the wonders ofOi, but in the beginning things were quite different.
“All the early stuff I wrote was very punk,” Roddy admits, nervously
glancing at the floor. “I try and concentrate more on melody and chords
now – there’s hardly any lead guitar in the songs either.”
Two characteristics seem to be especially outstanding in his work: theunusual, almost jazzy chord progressions exemplified by a new gem
called “The Spirit Shows”, and the searingly poignant, emotional lyrics,
a sample of which run: “You said you’re free, for me that says it all/You’re
free to push me and I’m free to fall/So if we weaken we can call it stress/
You’ve got my trust; I’ve got your home address/And now the only chancethat we can take/Is the chance that someone else won’t make it all cometrue” (“We Could Send Letters”).
It makes sense to discover, then, that Roddy’s current heroes are more
likely to be Wes Montgomery and Django Rheinhardt than Magazine or
The Clash, and that instead of lyrically aping The Damned’s “New Rose”
he says his approach is “much more upfront these days”.
“I can only do songs that really mean something to me these days,” hesays. “I try and capture the feeling I had when I wrote the song when I’m
singing it as well. That way it always works better.”
Living in East Kilbride, a town equivalent to England’s Milton Keynes,
seems to have nurtured the group’s endearing sense of survival humour,and while they all see it as “rather dull and drab”, they say there’s nowhere

they would particularly prefer to live. Going into town with their mateson Saturday afternoon and sipping the occasional carry-out at home arehigh spots in their dizzy social life.
At first this helped give Roddy a “bleak outlook on life”, but this, he adds,
faded. So what happened? “Aw, the sun came out,” was his smirking reply.
Small gigs like their recent stint in the Glasgow Spaghetti Factory are
their life-blood, with intimacy high on the list of priorities. “I just couldn’t
believe how many people were at The Venue,” Campbell recalls in awe.
“There were 957! I know because I counted their legs and divided by two!”
Likewise, the thought of signing with a major record company terrifies
them. Roddy: “I’d hate to be with a big company. I don’t want anyonepressurising us to come up with material or to do it in a certain way. I’drather take three years to do an album that I really like – every song has tobe a good one. I don’t want an LP with any fillers
on it like so many others.”
In fact they aren’t far short of having enoughoriginal songs (leaving out the singles,
including the latest, “Mattress Of Wire”) for analbum that will hopefully be recorded in theautumn, which goes under the provisional titleof “Green Jacket Grey”.
Even for this they don’t intend to expand theirlineup, preferring to push to the frontiers of theirpresent possibilities. “I think it’s interesting to
see what we can do as a three-piece,” says
Roddy, who has only recently acquired a propersemi-acoustic jazz guitar. “I think we can do a
lot within the framework we’ve got.”
On this point nobody’s arguing, and when I urge
them to summarise their style, the effervescentCampbell comes to the rescue: “Unique, that’s theword you’re looking for.”
Magic? You better believe it.

“Intensity –that’s what
I think weachieve”

88 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

THE FIRE ENGINES

B

reaK up, not down! Their music is madeof shattered surfaces, broken moods andshredded images. Such linear agility allows
spiritual appearances by Beefheart and T Rex inany typically segmented composition.
FaCts: The Fire Engines are (from Scotland): David Henderson on
guitar and vocals; Russell Burn on drums; Murray Slade on guitar.
Records, released on Bob Last’s Pop: Aural label, based in the group’s
home town of Edinburgh, are: Singles: “Get Up And Use Me”, “Candy
Skin”. LPs: Lubricate Your Living Room. Speakers for the group are David
and Murray. Subjects are:Venues. Prior to their Heaven show, with first-time live backing
singers and strings, the largest London date was the Lyceum.
David: “Most people missed us at the Lyceum because we were on first.
Heaven was much more exciting, very fast. It was quite interesting,because that’s the first time we’ve played in front of an audience for about
three months – we had a big break while Murray was at college.”
paCKaGinG: With Fast Product, Bob Last made pure packages
available that contained little except more packages. The Engines’ newcompilation LP for the American market bears the message “Ready
Packed For Action Fun”.
David: “I think it’s important that things have a label as such but thepeople concerned should get the chance to label themselves. We
designed the cover of our album, but I feel we’re just a group. We neversaw ourselves as an Edinburgh group.”
By showing multiple aspects at once, The Fire Engines establish
themselves as the true futurists. Uninterrupted motion is conveyed
through a grand musical transparency of overlapping styles.
indies: Though “Candy Skin” came near to making the national charts,
their real success has been mainly visible in the so-called independent
charts, with both singles and album enjoying long stays at the top.
David: “The Rough Trade attitude makes me puke. That independentbullshit! They don’t want any stars or superstars – that’s disgusting. We
want to get across to as many people as possible, so we will use all the
aspects of the business around us to our own advantage.”
It’s common knowledge among the cognoscenti that The Fire Engines
only came down to play at Heaven so they could see the royal wedding on
the cheap.

scottish rock

JOSEF KD

on’t stop. don’t even pause. Go head over heels to Josef K
on their staccato rush, their burning iridescence, above all
their terrible urgency demands immediate attention.
Forgive an unpredictability that springs from untamed spirits. Ignore
diversionary production diatribes in misleading reviews, they have madeone of this year’s most haunting LPs – suitably named and lovingly
played, The Only Fun In Town.
A timeless collection of immaculate songs, Fun… represents thegroup’s second attempt at 33 rpm perfection. Guitarist Malcolm Ross
explains: “We scrapped the first LP because we simply didn’t like theresults. I think we rushed into it really. Alan [Horne] had just started
Postcard and he decided it ought to make some money, so he suggested
we make an LP just because he knew if Orange Juice made one theywouldn’t be happy with it, but he thought we would be satisfied withwhat we could do at the time.
“Looking back, I don’t think we reallygave it enough thought. We just went,‘Oh we’ve got enough songs, we can do
January 4, 1981:
an LP.’” Recorded at the 24-track Castle
Josef K play aSound Studios on the fringes of their
showcase atnative Edinburgh, the final results
London’s ICA
came nowhere near the sound and feelthey hoped to capture.
“I must admit it turned out really bad.
We put in too many things – too many
gimmicky things: slamming doors andbackground shouts, that sort of thing.”
Still on the dole, yet realising starting
afresh meant a straight loss of two grand,
they unanimously agreed to go back tosquare one – dedication, as you can see,sometimes costs more than blood, sweat
and tears.
Brushing aside this setback, Josef K havean unshakeable confidence in their music
which has nothing to do with shallow
bravado, and they started the ominous
year of ’81 playing on the same bill as

Orange Juice in Brussels’ Plan K, a vast convertedsugar refinery split into five floors of freaks, films
and transvestites.
The force behind Les Disques Du Crepuscule andFactory Benelux, the enigmatic Annik and Michel,suggested the group recorded a single (“Sorry For
Laughing”/“Revelation”) at a tiny garage studio before departing.
Vindicating their earlier decision, it was happily realised that at lasta place had been found which allowed their energy to come through.
Imagine their chagrin in discovering that nearly every reviewer saw theresulting unorthodox production (a group effort) as sadly misconceived.
Crackling with a rough exuberance, the treble-high guitars andunusually delicate bass-drums axis proved too much of a culture shock,while the mixed-down vocals were decidedly out of order for those
unfortunate souls addicted to the sterility of high-tech attack.
It’s not as if they came near to the neo-Luddite style of the early Fall.
Never slipping into the excessive opulence of new psychedelia, they
achieve a satisfying clarity without sacrificing the subtle tensions andfierce exigency that is so close to the soul of Josef K.
There are, it seems, no regrets from the group. “We’re all very happy
with the LP,” Malcolm says in whispery Scottish tones. “We wanted tosound hard and aggressive but not heavy. In fact we used to be a lot moretrebly – we’ve mellowed a bit!”“Besides,” adds bassist David Weddel, “I’m not sure what difference all
the reviews and hype make anyway. I mean, The Fire Engines album sold
11,000 while the Scars, who had a huge promo campaign behind themcompared to The Engines, sold 12,000. We’ve already sold 10,000,” heannounces triumphantly, “and that was just in the first two days!”J

oseF K all met each other at school in Edinburgh. Paul Haig,
the group’s singer, lyricist and second guitarist, started thenucleus with his then next-door neighbour, drummer Ronnie
Torrance. Later, joined by Malcolm, they made their first stage
appearance as TV Art at the Pollock Halls in Edinburgh.
This was around the beginning of ’78. “We were very influence by
Television and Talking Heads at the time,” Malcolm recalled, “except wewere a bit poppier – in fact we were dubbed a power-pop band, although
we never claimed to be.”The departure of their bass player Gary McCormack left a space forDavid, who gave up his role as roadie/manager, marking the beginning ofa harsher and more personal group style that would eventually evolve
into their special mix of oblique melodies over brittle, angular guitars.
During those formative days their inspirations were closer to thesurface, and TV Art were seem as a kind of mutant cross between Lou
Reed, Television and The Only Ones. Wunderkind Alan Horne remembers
them as being “very half-baked. Malcolm was playing Steve Cropper’s
part from ‘Dock Of The Bay’ at the soundcheck and I thought, ‘Oh great.’“Then they’d do a Roxy Music song and I thought, ‘Oh God.’ They did
have one song that stood out though, called ‘Chance Meeting’.”
This was to become the first Josef K single on Absolute records. Only
1,000 were pressed, backed by a song
called “Romance”.
Dipping into Subway Sect, they
continued to move on, releasing threefurther singles, “Radio Drill Time”,“It’s Kinda Funny” and “Sorry For
Laughing” as well as recording thelost LP, 10 copies of which wereretained for posterity.
Along the way they collected a
reputation for erratic but sometimes
electric stage shows – an image
unbroken by their recent appearance
at London’s Venue, where they failed torealise their full potential.
Imagine an unholy cross between
Lou Reed and Frank Sinatra singing“sometimes I know it’s crazy to exist”
against a wall of shrill, razory guitars
and you have the sound of Josef K.
This, as Paul would say, is “intensity– that’s what I think we achieve,
intensity”. Ian Pye •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 89

- s0.

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david corio / getty

Media: Their contributions to other popular
expressions include writing the music for a fringe
play called Why Won’t The Pope Come To Glasgow,
which they describe as “very Brechtian”, and acowboy film made on Super 8.
David: “The printed word is dead. It’s so outmoded
now. Journalists are generally very irresponsible. I mean, most of themusic press is not worth getting your fingers dirty for.
“I admit the build-up has helped a lot. There probably wouldn’t havebeen so many people at Heaven if it wasn’t for the coverage we’ve got. It’s
given us a lot of access to things we needed – it has its good points.
“Generally, though, I don’t like the music press. They’re so limited andsterile. The layouts are so old-fashioned for a start. They never change
from week to week. The only thing that makes them change is when newgroups come along and do things themselves. I love television, but there’s
no control over it. We should have more access.”tHe new pop. Murray: “I think it’s just coincidence, any similarity
to The Fall, though there is that kind of Northern thing in our music as
well. There’s something ancient there – something to do with King
Arthur. I dinnae ken what it is though. On the other hand, I quite like
listening to some disco stuff.”
David: “We all listen to so many different things, but I don’t hear muchthat is really new. First it was rockabilly, now it’s funk. People are fallingback on old styles to cover their lack of ideas and relax in the security ofthe past.”sCotland. David: “Most people who work in the music business in
Scotland are assholes. They’re all cokeheads totally interested in making
money and nothing else.”
Murray: “We’ve known Bob Last for years now and he’s one of the few
people who are alright. He just showed an interest. He’s out to makemoney alright, but not at our expense.”
Listen to The Fire Engines. They could jar you into REACTING,
THINKING, MOVING! Their dance is Break Up! The message to Wake Up!

1981

j u l y – s e p t em b e r“I can see
throughyourclothes”
A place of highs and lows, IGGY POP’s career is insomething of a slump. The man himself, however,is in rude health, discussing love, sex in thestreet and Ronald Reagan. “I cried when Nancy
said she ate bananas instead of apples so
she wouldn’t wake up the President…”

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1981

j u l y – s e p t em b e r— MELODY MAKER JULY 11 —ittle Jimmy Osterberg cut his slice in theimmortality stakes on his instincts. Unleashing thefloodgates of a manic kid spirit, he railed into the night– a deep, primal roar from the soul – publicly abused
himself, cut some gigantic records and seized his time.
Raw power! Overtly male and very rock. The energy waschannelled through a tight sinewy body, the emotions expressed via a
gloriously rich voice that matured so far it became a ruse to disguise theemptiness of his contemporary material.
The debts of his life-affirmative thrash are countless. Nobody everreally celebrated the benign indifference of the universe better than the
Ig. In a perfect rock’n’roll world he should have died some mysteriously
confused death and closed the legend. He didn’t of course, and at 34 he’s
got a new album to tout.
The third in a declining series that began with New Values (see any?),
slipped to Soldier and finally plummeted on Party, it shows a man
revelling in a brash and unashamed ego through material that has
acquired the stained and second-hand air of an increasingly malodorous
youth culture.
Flat and rarely profitable, Iggy’s Party is a very dull affair and comes
nowhere near doing justice to an intelligent survivor who, on current
evidence, equals (in person at least) the vibrancy of his best work.
As part of the promotion campaign for the new product, Arista havebooked him into a small but comfortable hotel (its modesty dictatedby the poor sales of the previous Soldier) for a gruelling session ofinterviews with assorted hacks. Taking my place on the treadmill,
I eventually find Iggy in his favourite place ofthe moment: the bar!
A small, still well-defined figure dressed injeans, a red, ribbed sweater and black pointed
shoes is hunched over what turns out to be oneof many drinks of Swamp Mud-Pernod mixed
with coke and ice. Turning to greet me, the eyes
glare in fearsome penetration but the delicate
handshake is warm and open.
“I can see right through you clothes,” he tells
me. “I see what’s there.”
Praying I’m wearing my best underwear, we
begin by discussing his visit to Marley’s funeral,
which obviously left a great impression and agood suntan. His face is lined, but not blatantly
so for his age, and like so many “hip” Americans
only the shape of his nose has really changed over the years.
The once proud Roman bridge has been slowly eroded – the one visible
legacy of the infamous drug habits. I’ve been given strict instructions not
to dwell too much on the past, as this has been covered exhaustively
elsewhere. I get straight to the point and ask if he thinks the new album is
as good as his work with the Stooges or Bowie.
Without hesitation he was off: “I think there’s things on this album thatcut my classics. I’m really pleased with it. Now I only want to go further ina similar direction for a few years more.”
Is this self-delusion or blind faith? Considering the record’s majorstatement runs thus: “Rock is rock/Give it a shot/Rock is rock/Whether
you like it or not”, it seems prudent to move on to pondering the worthof his latent obsession with superficial buddy relationships andfrantic pleasure seeking. Iggy, however, is reluctant to dig beneaththe wine and streamers, preferring instead to justify his songs as aural
cinéma vérité.
“You see, I tried to make sure that each song had a setting. Like
‘Sincerity’ is in The Lucky Number Bar – that place really exists – I hangout there. It does stay open till four, you know. And uh… whenever I’m in
Chicago, when I go to the Lucky Number there’d be these two big six-footgirls that would show up.
“They’d say, ‘Hey Iggy, listen, we wanna take you home and do a coupleof things to ya’. And they took me to this Lithuanian suburb and just,and just… they IMPRESSED ME! And now I go back there and they justLassault me, you know. I’m in ecstasy until about 8.30 in the morningand then they drop me off wherever I’m staying.
“Things like that I’ve found an affection for – bits of Americana (hecalls the new album his American album) that got dropped for a few
years. We’re the Wild West again – things are getting really great.”t transpires that “Pumpin’ For Jill”, for example, is basedon a florid chapter in the recent history of the hottest libido
this side of Prince. Down in the French quarter of New
Orleans, Iggy fell in love, but the encounter was hardly akin to
the first embraces of our Charles and Di.
“She was a real chick. I fell in love with here for about 30 seconds.
I haven’t been in love for years and years… but for 30 seconds I wastruly in love.
“We were walking down the street and it was Mardi Gras, right?
Then we saw this enormous sign: ‘AMYL NITRATE SOLD HERE’.
Can you picture that?! And I’m going like…” (Exaggerated doubletake). “So I have this instant dual reaction. One side of me is saying,‘Hey, dat’s illegal, betta go an do it!’, and the other side is saying, ‘But
I don’t really like it a lot.’ You know what I’m saying, right?
“So I decided I’d go and do it, because it might be a better quality orsomething. So they put this mask on you in this place. They kept the
stuff in gas form in the replica of a human skull made out oftransparent plastic with a tube that comes down to your mouth.
“Then you put the mask on and inhale it. For 30 seconds I cried onher shoulder, you know. I just cried. She’s a very beautiful girl anyway
and I loved her in my own way, in my own fashion for a day or two –I’d love to see her again but she’s married. She lives with a dental
assistant in St Petersburg – that’s why I say
in the song ‘I wonder if you’ll hear it’.
“After we took the nitrate she was saying
things that were really beautiful, then wethought, ‘Well it’s Mardi Gras – let’s lay
down in the street and go.’ So we did. We
just lay down in the street and started
making love as people do, you know.
“And we stripped off our clothes andwere screwing. We didn’t realise what
was going on around us, but a crowd of
about a hundred had gathered, right, andthey’re all going, ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, do this,do that,’ and everything, and I started
getting more pissed off. I said, ‘Bet you
guys never get any!’“Then a policeman came along and said, ‘You assholes better movealong right now or I’ll bust you.’ So we finally had to go to the financialzone to consummate the act. We did it in the bushes. I ruined a goodpair of trousers from Johnsons, actually. It was right next to theInternational Trade Centre. She was a beautiful woman, you know.”
As well as sex and partying, the new record also pays tribute to the riseof the rich Southern American states and their unbridled licentiousness.
“They have a society there where there’s a certain understanding,” Iggy
offers in an effort to explain his conversion to the gospel according to JR.
“You remember those old concepts of right and wrong – remember that?
That was before trade unions, right? They have a simple understanding ofright and wrong, and in Texas they’ve managed to make anarchy work.
Life there is wide open. There’s not a lot of charity in Texas, but then again
who needs charity?
“I’m sorry, I realise we’re in the country that has traditionally expressed
the greatest sentiment for dogs and cats while being cruel to its lower
classes, but in Texas it’s wonderful.”I“I believe ineverything
Reagandoes. I’m a
lot like him”

It WhiCh pOint he reveals the solution we’ve all been
desperately grubbing around for to solve the nation’s malaise:“You should restore power to the monarchy. Until then all
your great minds are going to become pop stars [obviously a veiledreference to Adam Ant] and move outta the country anyway. I mean,
whatta ya goin’ to do – go socialist like France? America’s becoming thelast bastion of capitalism.
We’re becoming the last
bastion of liberty!”
You mean Reagan
represents the traditionalA

July 11, 1981:
Pop show at
the Rainbow
in London’s
Finsbury Park

American ideal to you?
“Listen, I’m a simple guy,” he replies
gravely, “and I know a liar from someone
who’s telling the truth, and he’s a goodman. He has his countrymen at heart.
“He has his people at heart. He’s the bestthing that’s happened to our country
since sliced bread. The guy prayed for thatguy that shot him – I think he’s a very goodman, very sincere.”
Was Reagan anything to do with
Iggy’s return from self-imposed exile
in Berlin, then?
“He was almost the prime reason. I returned to America when I decided
Reagan had a good chance. I basically believe in everything he does. I’ma lot like him, you know. I’m interested in liberty and earned equality.
EARNED equality!
“So I wanted to go back and tell people at my gigs who they should votefor. It was my way of campaigning for him – he’s a helluva guy.”
On his own admission, Iggy works to a peak under some form of solid
partnership, or better still, directorship. Consequently the quality of his
work relies heavily on the chosen guide or accomplice.
Bowie and the most talented of the Stooges, James Williamson, bothmanaged to provide the required discipline, and from their inspired
stability he produced his most satisfying and substantial work. Thesedays Ivan Král, Patti Smith’s ex-sidekick, has taken their place, bringing

with him the sloppy, outmoded Stones-styleraunch on which he based his career. Insteadof giving the Ig a much-needed jolt, Kral has
provided a soft, easy chair in which the singer
can roll around languidly, cocktail in hand.
Further work with Bowie seems likely, but on
mention of James Williamson, with whom Iggy
is said to have come to blows, he merely frowns,
rushes to the bathroom and mutters: “I will
never work with James again. I found his
attitude to music sorta like a betrayal. As far as
I know he’s doing computer research and he’s
probably very happy at it.
“I like the band I’ve got now so much,” hecontinues, refreshed. “They’re MEN! And I
wanted to work with some MEN! I don’t makeany more money than them. We got together
and we’ve developed a funny little vision of ourown, you know.” Double, perhaps?
Is it right you prefer to be called Iggy and not
Jim these days?
“Well Iggy’s kinda taken over. Really it’s an
imploding kind of name. It’s really pretty
offensive, it’s like yuk! But I’ve gotten to thepoint where I actually relish it. I enjoy it. I
remember Jagger shouted at me the other day
in his usual unpleasant manner, ‘What shall
I call you?’ I said, ‘You can call me Iggy.’”
There seem to be distinct parallels between
himself and Jagger these days, I suggest, asboth become entertainers or performers rather
than creators.
“Well I think Jagger has displayed a consistentsincerity in his lyrics and songwriting thatshould be a beacon for our times.”
I don’t believe this!
“I think he’s a great man. I don’t likehim and he don’t like me, but he’s showed
great stamina.”
In conversation and throughout his
lyrics, Iggy rattles off contradictions
like there was no such thing. On the one
hand he romanticises the enforced
camaraderie found in bars and rockbands, on the other he complains:“I found myself with the usual bums.” Infact, many of his emotional observations
swing with the wild zig zag of a lush.
Like a modern John Wayne, he makes
hymns to the male ego while at the sametime indulging in naive Hollywood
sentimentality of the worst sort. “I criedwhen Nancy Reagan said she ate bananas
instead of apples so she wouldn’t wake up
the President,” he proudly stated at one
stage. He should have been lurching overa bottle of whisky when he said this, but
he was coming back from the bathroom.
“The pleasures in my life have beenmen, women, wine, beer and bourbon –but men and women come first.” Aw shucks, Ig.
“I’ve never known an audience let me down,” he suddenly announces.
Does that include those lucky enough to witness the early Stooges? The
ignorant who pelted him with abuse and every available missile?
“Well that’s why I hurt myself; I wanted to let them know how much they
were hurtin’ me. I was saying, ‘This is what is goin’ to happen to you if you
don’t loosen up, you pricks. You’ll get cut too.’”
When I focused, Iggy was sharp, and in the hour I spent with him he wasalways polite and considerate. It would be so easy to write him off as aravaged and wrinkled has-been, but this would not only be mindlessly
glib but well wide of the mark. If anything, he’s just fallen in with thewrong company.
Iggy’s time hasn’t gone – it’s just slipped sideways. Ian Pye •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 93

DaviD Corio / GETTY

iggy pop

1981

j u l y – s e p t em b e r

The Pretenders:more stark andstrident second
time around

ALBUMS

steve morley / getty

The Pretenders
Pretenders II REAL
Be it ice hockey internationals,
royal weddings or lovemaking,there’s a cloud that’s constant –the curse of the brilliant debut.
The better the first effort, themore urgent it becomes toimprove and/or surprise; evento match the first effort isinevitably deemed insufficient.
It’s a fact of life the Pretenders
must now be bitterly ruing.
Eighteen months ago they
offered a defiantly determinedclarion call for thelaunch of the ’80s witha stunning album ofraging beauty thatquickly perched itself
arrogantly on top of
the album charts intandem with themissionary single fromit, “Brass In Pocket”.
It and they weredeservedly lauded
for amalgamating theangry, aggressive
tradition of rock withaching tenderness andpain. These qualities
remain intact on the
94 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

ALBUMSsecond album – there’svulnerability about Chrissie
Hynde’s vocals and lyrics, forexample, that frequently rips
open your heart. And a couple oftracks – “Birds Of Paradise” and“Waste Not Want Not” – outstrip
anything on the first.
Yet… an air of disappointment
hovers each time I reach theend of Side Two (despite the
exuberant, triumphant blazeof the “Louie Louie” finale). It’s
the feeling of deflation that
invariably comes from extreme
anticipation; the relentlessharshness that occupies so much

REVIE
W

of this record(particularly
1981
Side Two) andthe unremittingly
desperate, twisted
nature of so much of
the material.
“We’re all of us in the gutter…
we fall but we keep getting up,”sings Chrissie on “Message Of
Love”, and it evokes the mood of
the entire album. Cold, harsh,
and desolate, every time she
opens her mouth you expect
the earth to shudder.
The band surround her withgrim-faced stridency: stark andbrutal. Charged,
emotive andintensively
effective, but lightentertainment
it ain’t.
Opening track“The Adulteress”,
a quirky backdrop,
sets a harrowing
mood that’s
cemented by“Bad Boys
Get Spanked”,
a raucous
diatribe against
regimentation andpreconditioning,full of sexyundertones. Bothare fearsomely
powerful, but later
on we’re into tracks
like “Day After Day” and“Jealous Dogs”, which continue
the furious ardour without
their attendant depth, andthe patience begins to snap.
It’s frustrating, for when
the anguish is unforced, withevery nerve end exposed ason the softer, reflective “Birds
Of Paradise”, then they are
more compelling (andappealing) than ever.
It works well, too, on the
expected Ray Davies song,“I Go To Sleep”, which is givena pained serenity, while you
already know all about “Message
Of Love” (which still sounds likea classic) and “Talk Of The Town”.
“Pack It Up” is alternatively
intimidating and wry, offering
a rare glint of humour with its
opening McEnroe cry of “Youguys are the pits of the world”,
and spitting through its own
jaundice… “I don’t like yourtrousers… your appalling taste
in women… your insipid record
collection,” roars Chrissie atsome anonymous makeweightreviews

Colin Irwin, MM Aug 8

New Age Steppers
Action Battlefield STATIK
If, as Dennis Bovell suggests,
The Slits are making reggae
for a modern Sound Of Music,
then New Age Steppers (Mk II)
featuring the irrepressible Ari Up
on vocals, etc, do a pretty fair
Doctor Zhivago.
Painfully overlong, ruefully
lovesick, Action Battlefieldboasts moments of beauty inmiles of stodge. A feast of frontroom fun(k) and ritzy reggae, it’sfull of flash effects, false starts
and stops and (what we used tocall) jamming, but fails because
it falls for too many gimmicks
and too few real ideas. As a stab
at a dance-stance it’s a real
party pooper – it plods whereit should prance.
As an experimental
production job onseven reggae
standards, it’soften interesting,occasionally amusing
but never essential.
As a paean to excess
it only goes to provethat moderation andmatriculation are,
11 times out of 10, thebest pop policy.
Steve Sutherland, MM Aug 8

SINGLESSoft Cell Tainted Love

Siouxsie & The Banshees
Arabian Knights POLYDORROUGH TRADE

More menacing childhood
memories dredged up anddressed up in tired old riffs
and jaded Banshee dynamics.
Siouxsie sounds jaded,disinterested; McGeoch istypically vague, wrenchingout the standard guitar
atmospherics. Thin, brittle,
forgettable; no push, no magic;
keep away from this voodoo.

Soft Cell are bouncing on thesprays shooting out from ourbasic doubt. “Tainted Love”– twist the vowels up as they do,
feel the forces behind thesimplicity of love. Don’t takethem for granted, don’t
underestimate them becauseof the sound – it has nothing to
do with nonsensicals like Duran
Duran or Depeche Mode – ithas real anguish. MM Aug 1

It was a dilemma; at the
Lyceum, Joy Divisionwere scheduled to play
(we didn’t know, but it
was to be their last major
appearance in London).
Over at Camden’sElectric Ballroom thesame night, Wire werebilled to appear (as itturned out, their last gig, period).
After much dithering I chosethe former, and this recorded
document of the Wire gig
vindicates the decision.
Featuring 21 tracks, 17 of thempreviously unrecorded, this is areminder of the hard-edged
starkness suggested by thegroup’s name, a series of grating
furrow-diggers as rough as anight in a Bronx gutter.
It’s a harrowing experience– and not one easily
recommended. Late Wire,
stripped down to the metal,
connect like a socket in the anus
– Colin Newman’s vocal hysterics
frequently painful instead ofpained, Gotobed’s drumming as
lumpy as school rice cremola.
Around the time these tracks
were recorded the groups wereexperimenting with various
audiovisual presentations onstage, which may explain thebaffling nature of much of theElectric Ballroom LP. On display
are such scintillating offerings as
directionless tin-can bashing(Woodstock raindance, bad-acida-go-go), smug haranguing of theaudience, and unintelligent
stabs at minimalism andconstant whining, and if that
doesn’t put you off, thenthe sleeve descriptions(“vocalist attacks gas
stove,” “12 percussionists
with newspaper headdresses”, etc) should do thetrick. A thoroughly shoddy
package. Lynden Barber, MM Aug 8

MM July 25

Shakin’ Stevens Green Door CBS
Shakin’ Stevens’ recent records
have an increasing air ofnovelty about them; it’s difficult
to take them seriously even as
fun. This really needed Dave
Edmunds at the desk to bringit into focus. Stuart Coleman’s
production is adequate, lacks
colour; pursuing no particular
direction, Stevens’ vocal isawkwardly stilted, hurriedand badly mannered: still
somehow likeable throughthe confusion,
though.
MM July 25

PHONOGRAMThe Specials Ghost Town 2-TONE
Informed sources tell me thatwhen Chrysalis first heard thisthey nearly refused to issue it
as a 45. So much for 2-Tone
independence. But I see theproblem. First hearing left me
baffled, too. Second hearing
left me shrugging myshoulders. Third hearing,
I was hooked. “Ghost Town”
is magnificent. Written by
Dammers, the lyrics are typicaland topical, the imagery chilling
and the whole thing reeks ofDammers at his cheekiest best.
Suddenly The Specials havegot a future again, and what
a future. MM June 13

Tenpole Tudor Wunderbar STIFF
Music from the ultimate
madhouse, “Wunderbar” isinsanely raucous, a crashingbarrage of lunatic riffs,
demented percussion andwhacked-out vocal contortions.
Eddie sounds like the stitches
are bursting in his larynx andthe absurd bierkeller chorus
arrives just in time to rescue
him. Mindless, daft, loveably
loonoid; a hit of monstrous
proportions, surely. MM Jul 25

SINGLES

W
E
I
V
E
R
1981

Siouxsie:losing her
voodoo?

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 95

gettywith cruel scorn. The wholeterse collection suddenly,
unexpectedly explodes on
the final track, “Louie, Louie”,
which isn’t the song you think,
but a new Hynde number set
to a tune approximating“Midnight Hour”. It brazenly
flaunts its own derivativenessas if in parody of the whole
rock’n’roll charade (perhaps
also reflected in the sleeve’s
imitation of the first Rolling
Stones album cover).
Whatever the motives, it’s awelcome show of joy in a hard,depressing work. This isn’t thebacklash, but it’s not easy tolove an album that strains so
hard to be overtly unattractive.

Wire Document And
Eye Witness: Electric
Ballroom LP / Notre Dame
Hall 12 inch 45

1981

j u l y – s e p t em b e r“The firstclassic
in years!”
Introducing WAH! and the brains behind it, PETEWYLIE. He’s a disaster live, and wants to rap, but
believes himself a genius: “If Wah! is any good,people won’t just become fans, they’ll be inspiredby it to do things, and not just to be in groups.”

PENNIE SMITHI— MELODY MAKER JULY 11 —n a scruffy, but spacious third-floor office, just where Liverpool’s Bold
Street meets Renshaw Street, a telephone rings. The man at the desk sighs
like a steam train, drops the thousand-and-one things he’s trying to do
simultaneously, and lifts the offending receiver.
“Hello. Pete Fulwell?” enquires the voice at the other end.
“Speaking,” says the man sharply.
“Oh, hi. Steve Sutherland, Melody Maker. How ya doing?”“Awful,” comes the curt reply.
“Really?” enquires the voice, betraying equal degrees of
instinctive intrigue and honest concern. “Wassamatter?”“Look,” replies the man bluntly, “if you’d been stuck in an officewith Wylie for three months, you’d feel bloody awful…”
Pete Wylie, founder, guitarist, singer and sage at the centre
of a fast-mushrooming phenomenon widely know as Wah!,
is everything you’ve ever heard, read or imagined him to be…
and more!
So much more, in fact, that when the man from MM arrives on the
doorstep of this self-same Liverpool office five days later, naively
believing that Wylie might be able to help him with a few enquiries
concerning a certain superb record with the rather unusual title of
Nah Poo = The Art Of Bluff, his manager, Mr Fulwell, has just thrownan almighty wobbler.
He slagged off the scouser’s girlfriend and brother, called them
Wylie’s lackeys, and accused the man himself of outright arrogance
before taking off – according to the injured party – to the sanctuaryof the nearest seedy bar. »96 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

r
“I want Wah! to besomething thatpeople can love, but
not just blindly”: Pete
Wylie at a rehearsal
space in Liverpool

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j u l y – s e p t em b e r

Wylie’s unperturbed. He’s been through all this a million times before.
It’s just the price you pay for being born hyperactive; endowed with
masses more vision than any mere mortal has any God-given right to;possessed of a mouth that often chooses to adopt a mind of its own at themost inopportune moments; and gifted with a talent so bold and blatantthat it actually seems to tread that cliched thin line between real genius
and complete insanity.
Seated around him are his usual audience: Washington, Wah!’s bassist– a thug-like being with a heart of gold; Loafer-Go-Go, alias Stephen
Johnson, Wah!’s new(est) guitarist; Wylie’s girlfriend Sharon who, hefondly reckons, resembles boss Bunnyman Ian McCulloch (“Hey! Maybe
it’s Freudian”); Wah!’s Scots roadie, Wylie’s brother, and a gaggle ofgiggling Rasta friends.
Hear now the mighty words of Wah!.
“Where shall we start?” asks the writer.
“Let’s start at the very beginning. It’s a very good place to start…” sings
Wylie. “Was that right? Julie Andrews? Yeah! Julie Andrews! Number-one
formative influence.”“And number two?” enquires the writer, somewhat sheepishly.
“Number two? Washington – big influence. Number three? Equal third,
Burt Bacharach and Loafer-Go-Go. Psychedelic interview number 647…”
UICK, somebody! straItjaCKet the bastard!
“Right, well,” says the writer, initial panic over. “Wah! used to be
Wah! Heat. Now Wah! Heat are Wah!. Why?
“Long story, this,” says Wylie, winking. “Gotta think about this…
Washington! Say what you said the other day!”
Washy pulls himself up into a cross-legged posture on the desk,
unwittingly coming to resemble a garden gnome, and enigmaticallyoffers: “I have forgotten.”“Wah! Heat was old and Wah! is new,” rescues Wylie.
“That’s what he said and that’s about the truth of it. It’s a different group.
Partly because of that and partly because, er… Wah! was the only bit thatcounted…”“And it’s universal!” shouts Washy.
“And it’s universal! Exactly!” echoes Wylie. “You don’t need to know any
English to know what Wah! is. It just goes W-A-A-A-A-H!… except more

PETER ANDERSON

Q

soulful than that. I’ve just had a chilli con carne, and I can’t be soulful
after chilli con carne.”“OK, I’ll let you off this time,” offers the writer magnanimously. “So now
the album’s out…”“No!” chides Wylie. “The LP is out!”“Oh, sorreee,” whistles the writer. “Explain yourself, sir.”“Well,” says Wylie, “when music was rock’n’roll music” – he says it
hesitantly, because you have to be hesitant when you say ‘rock’n’roll’music these days – “when it was a vibrant, excitin’ thing that was not too
full of itself and not too much of an intellectual exercise, people madeLPs. And then, when the mid-to-late ’60s started, things started getting
intellectual and people started taking drugs and music became… er…
the big thing, y’know, an ART FORM.”
There’s venom in his voice.
“It spoiled a lot of it, took a lot of the guts out of it. The Moody Blues
made albums and… I dunno… let me think… who made LPs… theearly Stones…”“Bo Diddley,” offeres Washy.
“Bo Diddley! Yeah! Bo Diddley made LPs and we feel more affinity withBo Diddley than The Moody Blues and a lot of the groups these dayssound more like The Moody Blues than The Moody Blues did!”“C’mon. What’s in a word?” teases the writer.
“Well, I mean, I ’ate sayin’ ‘album’,” confesses Wylie. “I feel like somekinda prannet. I feel like cringin’. It’s like when people call girls ‘chicks’– not because I’m anti-sexist or pro-sexist or whatever; besides me
feelings on that subject – I just ’ate that word ‘CHICK’,” he spits.
“It really makes me wince, y’know? So I don’t say ‘album’, I say ‘LP’. But
there is a marked difference, y’know. We just wanna get back to a thing…
that partly fits in with us changin’ the name as well, ’cos Wah! is just likea shout, like a big scream… a ‘BETTER SCREAM’,” he cries, delighted at
introducing the group’s first single into the conversation.
“It’s a primeval scream,” says Washy.
“Primeval! Yeah!” shrieks Wylie, overjoyed. “Something you don’t
think about too much. You know, you can be off your ’ead drunk or you
can be in fuckin’ total pain and you can still shout Wah!.
“But,” he adds mischievously, “you can’t sit there going, ‘Well, I think
the relationship between the diameter of the LP and the… eh…
“Hopefully twoshows won’t ever beinterchangeable”:
Wylie with his band’s
earlier incarnation
as Wah! Heat

98 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

Wah!

circumference could well mean
the metaphysical pyramid forming.’
Know what I mean? It just comes out
as a slobber.
“’Alf the time the LP was accidents
anyway. Sometimes the best records
have been made by accident. Like, if
The Velvet Underground had had decent
equipment and decent studios theywouldn’t have sounded anything like as
good as they do.”alKIng of aCCIdents,”
the writer wickedlyinterrupts, “your live shows
are often bloody disasters. I’ve seen you
twice and…”“I’ve seen us all the time,” bellows Wylie, “andit’s always a disaster! No, some nights we’d be
the best band in the world. Really! And thenanother night… well, we had to cut corners all
the time. Like one night I’d borrow a different
one which was not as reliable or something.
“We set ourselves standards but notprecedents; I think that’s what it is.
“We don’t want it to be a tame thing,and hopefully two shows won’t ever beinterchangeable. They will be different,
because I tend to want to talk during the songs, though I haven’t learned
to rap yet. It’s coming, y’know!”“Dear God: the Wylie rap. I can just hear it now,” thinks the writer, andhurriedly changes the subject. How much of the idea of Wah!, of theessence of Wah!, can you actually ever achieve?
“I dunno, because I’m still not sure what that ideal is,” admits Wylie.
“I’m changin’ me mind. You see, one of the things that I don’t like about
the music press is that it perpetuates some bad ideas, y’know. And so
people read a certain thing and they think that there can be no change
from that.
“Like when we first started, I had my set of ideals, the sort you get in
the shop round the corner, y’know, and I set myself some standards
and then I found that ’alf the time the ideals were just ridiculous, things
weren’t like that.
“It’s like you watch an old Brando film like On The Waterfront and you
think, ‘What a fuckin’ incredible guy’, y’know. But if you ever met ’im
I’m sure he’d be a prat. People just see the image and they miss out a lot of
the truth of things, so I’ve been willing to let me ideals change and I don’t
mind saying that they’ve changed.”
The writer mentions WEA – the major label to which Wah! have signed
their own Eternal label – making a lot of money and retaining
unprecedented artistic control in the process.
“I’ve never said that I didn’t want money,” counters Wylie. “People thinkthat if you sign to a record company it starts weakening you. It hasn’t
weakened us, you know. It’s made us more determined not to let it slip.
“The idea of selling out is a ridiculous thing. It’s not to do with record
companies; it’s to do with the characters involved, the strength ofcharacter. It doesn’t mean that I’m compromisin’ meself or anything.
None of us are willing to do that!
“We wanna make Wah! our favourite group, basically, and not just interms of entertainment but in terms of inspiring people, making people
wanna do things. If Wah! is any good, people won’t just become fans;they’ll be inspired by it to do things, and not just to be in groups.”“T“We draw theline between
Jimmy
Tarbuck andKafka, y’know”

He wrIter now commits the unforgiveable and asks Wylie if
Nah = Pooh completes the hat trick started by Boy and Searching
For The Young Soul Rebels?
“Yeah! I love it! I think it’s a great LP. I think it’s a classic. It’s the firstclassic LP to be released in years, y’know,” he says modestly. “There havebeen some good LPs, everybody makes good records now but nobody
makes great records, and I think this is a great record.”“But now it’s out,” asks the writer, “haven’t you lost that certain cultish
element of mystery and surprise?”“Wah! are a lot of people’s favourite group,” he replies, “and that’s on thestrength of two singles. But the LP – people will be floored and stunnedTand amazed by it,” he says, blushing.
“But if people think the next LP’s gonna
be like this one, they’re dead wrong.
We’re changing all the time. We justtreat the LP as almost an indicationof things to come.”“No. It’s much more than that,”demands Washy. “It’s the eye ofthe storm.”
Wylie goes off to relieve himself andthe writer takes the opportunity to ask
Wash how the hell he can stand to workwith the guy?
“S’all right. You just gotta know how totackle ’im. I know where his Achilles heel is…”
He signs off in frustrating silence.
But doesn’t he ever feel mad that people
always tend to treat Wah! as the Wylie show
when he’s also been involved since the outset?
“No. Not at all. I enjoy it…”
“Enjoy what?” says Wylie, striding back in,
fumbling with his zipper.
“You being the star,” says the writer.
“He’s the star!” he roars, pointing at thegrinning Washy.
“I wish people would sort this out. His sortcome over here, take our homes, take ourjobs, take our women, take your place on the
cover of the NME…” he grins back.
“This cover’s mine, ya mother.”“Wah! have been around a long time in one form or another, at least as
long as the Bunnymen,” the writer intercedes, attempting to reimpose
some semblance of normality. “But it’s taken you a lot longer to get thisalb… sorry, LP out. Don’t you worry you’ve missed your time?”oU don’t mIss the boat with stuff like this,” says Wylie,
for once deadly serious. “This is timeless. Everything
we’ve done has been justified, I’d say, and I reckon we
could stop after this LP for six years and come back and just wipe it out
again… start again and still be better than most.
“I just can’t believe it – there’s fuck all stuff like ‘Anarchy In The UK’around now. When I first ’eard that I got butterflies in me stomach, andwhen I first ’eard The Clash it was such an electric thrill. I want us to havethe same effect, to have the power, the passion, make records people careabout, love… I want Wah! to be something that people can love, but notjust blindly.
“I want Wah! to be sex music for ant people – that’s a-u-n-t. This is thetruth coming out now. The real reason we’re moving away from
intellectual stuff and into more honest natural things is because we neverused to get girls at the concerts, so now we’ve gone for the matinee idol
approach; we draw the line between Jimmy Tarbuck and Kafka, y’know.
Just call me Jimmy Kafka.
“No really. All this stuff, all this talking now, I dunno if it counts at all,”he sighs, genuinely puzzled. “A lot of the time, I’ll say something likea half-thought which isn’t really well formed, and I’ll say it now and I’ll
think later, ‘What I really meant was THIS!’“But people are just so lazy when they read it; they just read the words
and they don’t use their instincts, so… it’s like the monster with sevenletters… rockism… just another lazy man’s word, y’know.
“It’s really funny, ’cos when we talked to Adam Sweeting last year, we
mentioned it then, it was just like a joke – ‘Oh, the race against rockism’,y’know – but it summed up a lot of the feelings we had about bad habits,
doing things without thinking about them, lazy ways out. The word
would’ve died then, but because we mentioned it in NME as well,everyone went, ‘Phew! Great new word’, and that was exactly likea symptom of whatever we were talking about, y’know.”“Sorry you ever said it?” asks the writer.
“The BANE of my life – in capital letters,” says Wylie. “Oh no, I’ve justmentioned it again! Now we’re really focked.”“WYLIE RETRACTS ROCKISM, I can just see the headline now,” laughs
the writer.
Wylie grins, walks over to the window and shouts for the world to hear:“I have seen the error of my ways! W-A-A-A-A-H!!” Steve Sutherland •“Y

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 99

1981

j u l y – s e p t em b e r“Newsongs,
new
fashions”

What is going on with
THE SPECIALS? The
best British bandhas just scored amajor No 1 with
“Ghost Town”. Still,
during the group’s
recent break,uncertainty has
grown. “It’s not a‘break’ like sit down
and do nothing,”
they explain.

david corio / gettyT

100 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

— NME AUGUST 8 —his group… is coming like a ghost group.
Well, so the rumours go, anyhow. With every week that passes, it
seems new stories are circulating – stories of the specials-To-split?
variety, detailing disagreements, dissatisfaction, internal feuding orlack of communication.
A lot of it stems from what looks like an ominous inactivity – up
until, that is, the group’s recent string of one-off dates and that magnificent chartcomeback, “ghost Town” – combined with bursts of solo activity on the part of various
individual members.
As i write, The specials are packing toothbrushes in preparation for what they calltheir “works outing”, a jaunt that will take them to New York, where they’ll makeanother festival appearance. But what happens after that?
The answer right at this moment seems to be that nobody knows for sure. if reportsof The specials’ impending disintegration have been exaggerated, or are just plainmischievous, it’s also fair to say that the group’s emergence from collective hibernation
is not going like clockwork. They’ve had a meeting – sounds like this place – in factthey’ve had several, but the outcome isn’t clear yet.
At the outset of my interview with singer Terry hall and guitarist Lynval golding
i was especially asked not to press them on “the future”. Now, if there’s one thingguaranteed to arouse a journalist’s curiosity, i suppose it’s a request like that. But
really, i was honour-bound to comply. in any case, unofficial group supremo Jerry
Dammers has indicated his willingness to make matters clearer just as soon as he’s
able – and i hope to follow this feature up by talking to Jerry in a few weeks’ time, on his
return from America.
Let’s hope that everything does get sorted out, and for the better. The specials, quite
simply, are too good a group for us to lose.
Although there’s no doubt that the individual talents involved could all find worthy
ventures to occupy themselves with, well, it just wouldn’t
be the same, would it? it’s »»July 4, 1981: following
a march from Leeds
city centre, Terry Halland The Specials
headline the RockAgainst Racism event
in Potternewton ParkHISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 101

1981

j u l y – s e p t em b e r

especially ironic that they should be uncertain about their plans just at
the time when their reputation has never been higher.
“Ghost Town”, by uncommonly common agreement, was a classic No 1
single. Apart from its musical merits – showing once again how skilfully
the band can expand and develop on their early ska-based pop fusion – it
was a song of the moment. Like the Pistols’ “God Save The Queen” being
top in Jubilee week, “Ghost Town” was evidence of pop’s sporadic knackof fingering the pulse of reality. Top Of The Pops celebrated its 900th
anniversary in a gushing mush of nostalgia and trivia, while the streetsoutside exploded with the pent-up pressures of dead-end adolescence.
And there, crowning it all, The Specials matched fun and humour withthat hypnotically sombre warning: “Why must the youth fight against
themselves?/Government leaving the youth on the shelf.”
Just over a month ago, The Specials sealed their return to live working
by heading a Festival Against Racism at a stadium in their home town ofCoventry – the scene, not long before, of a racial murder, plus a continuing
catalogue of bigotry and violence. Shortly after, the group re-emphasised
their commitment to the original 2-Tone ideal of harmony by playing theNorthern Carnival Against Racism at Leeds. Another benefit, at London’s
Rainbow Theatre, lent their support to the Campaign For Jobs. These
occasions were peaceful and positive. It’s in the nature of things,
therefore, that they passed by almost without comment and publicity.

I

t’s more than idle curiosity, then, that leads us to speculate on
the state of The Specials. If ever there was a group you could
describe as “important”, then it’s this one, particularly in the UK,
1981. As explained, my interviewees Terry and Lynval were,
apologetically, unable to throw much light on the topic of Where To
Next? – but it’s no secret that their stance on crucial issues hasn’t
faltered one bit.
Lynval Golding – “the envy of the group” just now, by virtue of threesplendid suits he’s liberated from his father’s wardrobe – regrets theperiod of idleness that followed their last proper tour in late 1980.
“I would have preferred to do a lot more, but unfortunately I haven’t
done enough. I like working. I’m bored when I’m
not doing anything.”
Terry Hall, looking relaxed and dapper as ever,adds that the lay-off was a group decision, notimposed on anybody. He’s kept a pretty low
profile this year, too, but insists it hasn’t beentime wasted.
There was, of course, the 2-Tone film
Dance Craze, which kept the ball rolling interms of public exposure. That was a slight
disappointment, I thought, in that it wasn’tmuch more than straightforward live footage,
recording the first phase of the 2-Tone
phenomenon – Lynval and Terry can’t work up
a lot of enthusiasm for it either. Neither will
own up to having seen it right through.
But according to Terry, a simple live
document “was all it was meant to be. We
wouldn’t dress up as Arabs or something,
to make a story.”
He adds that a follow-up film venture isunlikely – “unless it’s a comedy”, he says,
with just a tinge of cryptic irony.
In view of the recent inactivity, and thesolo activities (which have largely beenoutside of the 2-Tone umbrella as well),does 2-Tone still represent anything morethan The Specials’ label name?
Terry Hall: “At the start, it was blackand-white clothes, and it just tied into
everything: the ‘ska revival’ or whatever it
was called. As anything now, obviously it’s
not as big now as it was, because there aren’t
many bands on it any more. It’s just a label.
We always preferred it to be on 2-Tone tobeing on Chrysalis or whatever.”At this point, it’s worth recapping briefly
on what the other five have been up to:
Neville is running his own Shack label,

Brad is doing likewise with Race Records. Jerry has just completed asingle, “The Boiler”, with Rhoda, Specials-friend and ex-Bodysnatcher.
Horace has done some recording of his own, while Roddy Radiation has
his “skabilly” group The Tearjerkers.

H

as the group, I wonder, been strengthened by this lay-off?
th: “Individually, yeah. But as a band… we’ll find out. It’s
helped us to work on our own ideas. I mean, I haven’t been doing
nothing for the last six months – I’ve been working on new songs, newfashions, everything.”
Lg: “I think what these six month have done for the individuals is help
them get out of themselves more. It’s given them time to write songs,
which is good. It’s good to have a break. It’s not a ‘break’ like in just sit
down and do nothing. It’s a break to think of new directions and work on
new ideas, which I think was a good thing.”
th: “A lot of material’s come out of it. We’ve never been able to write as
The Specials anyway, never as seven people. Every song that we’ve done
has come from one head, or at most three heads, and then you take it to
the rest of the band.”Yes, the “Ghost Town” EP, for instance; the three songs on that are
written by three different people. Would you like to see that trend
continue, spread the writing around the group more?
Lg: (cautiously) “I personally would like to see more, instead of one.
Two, three or four people writing together, ’cos I always think two heads
is better than one. I personally like to work that way.”
I think it was always a strength of The Specials that – live, anyway – not
too much attention was ever focused on one person, it kept switching.
th: “Yeah, that was the idea of it, not to have a star. And I think it has
worked. No one’s that big-headed.”
Lg: “If there was a star in the band I don’t think it would have worked. It
works well when people can contribute to the band, y’know? There’s
seven in the band, and it works a lot better that way.”
There was a story, though, that you were both unhappy with the way
your two songs turned out on the EP, that you want to re-record them.
(Dismissive laughter) “That was shit-stirring,”says Terry Hall of the rumour. “People are justtrying to split us up again.”Lynval agrees that he’s not happy with “Why”
as it ended up, but rules out a re-recording.
Terry, for his part, dryly describes himself as“over the moon” with his contribution “Friday
Night, Saturday Morning”. I let the matter drop.
I understand you’re still having meetings to
decide the group’s plans for the future.
Lg: (sniggering) “We have meetings every
four days.”
Lg: “Never decide on anything!”
th: “I don’t know what we’re doing. Either it’ll
come to us or it won’t come to us…”
th: “We’ll carry on meeting foranother six years, every week, andnever agree on anything.”(The resigned, listless tone of their
voices doesn’t suggest a group that’s ina healthy state, internally. So I ask…)
Is the group healthy? Or are you
thinking of packing it in?
th: “Not this week, anyway (laughs).
We’re alright up until Sunday night. Every
week’s completely different.”
Lg: “You just can’t… (giggles). You’ve
just gotta wait and see, y’know?”th: “If it carries on, it carries on.”Oh well. Time to change the subject,
I suppose.
“Ghost Town” topped the nation’s charts
at a very appropriate time, I thought.
Lg: “It’s strange, y’know? I never
expected that song to be No 1.”th: “Somebody asked me if the Socialist
Workers Party put us up to it – ha ha! – ifthey’d planned it, if they wrote it. No, it’s
just a coincidence, a bad coincidence.”“You can’t
not allow
people fromthe NF to get
into gigs”

102 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981m

THE BEST

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The Specials in
the 1981 2-Toneconcert-footage
documentary
Dance Craze

it would be stupid if we say we don’t want ’em there.
They should be there so we can show them what
they’re doing wrong.
“Like, I’ve been attacked by this racist lot alreadyanyway, so you’d probably think I should be all ‘I’ll
kill the bastard’. But I think it’s better to – like we did
this gig in Plymouth and I was talking to this guy
there and he was in the NF. And by the end of the conversation he wascompletely different. And to me that’s what’s needed.
“You’ve got to be able to do that. It’s not like you’re going out to preach topeople, but it’s an opinion: I’ve got my own opinion and I should be able totalk to people. And he’s got his own, and we can sit down and come tosome sensible agreement. Why the hell should you want to go out andmurder somebody; what the hell are you going to achieve?”
So you don’t want to draw up battle lines. But you still run the risk oftrouble at gigs, don’t you, when all factions are allowed in?
Lg: “I know sometimes it can get out of hand. But as you say, why should
you draw a line and say, ‘You lot stay over there, and you stay there,’ andhave a pitched battle. That’s stupid.”th: “We did a show at Liverpool the other week, and we did ‘Why’, andas Neville was doing his toasting ‘…with a Nazi salute and a steel-cap boot’
there were a few people going like that (giving Nazi salutes) to it. So thesecond time around we said, ‘You’ve got it wrong.’ So they went like that(giving peace signs) to it. I mean, that’s not converting them, but it showsa healthier sign. You can’t not allow people from the NF to get into gigs,
because if they want to get in there they will; all they’ve got to do is taketheir Union Jacks off. But we’ll try and get them out the hall if they sieg heilor shout out abuse because of people’s skin colour.”As these comments demonstrate, not to mention The
Specials’ records and their commitment to playing benefits,
this is a group that’s never been afraid to address the more
serious issues of the day. Escapist they’re not. Yet at the same timethey’ve never conformed to the boring old “political band” stereotype.
I asked Terry how they’ve managed to keep up that militant approach
but remained, above all, supremely entertaining and enjoyable. Howcome they’ve avoided the dull-and-worthy trap?
th: “’Cos we’re not from Leeds! No. Perhaps ’cos we don’t go completely
overboard with it. I mean, I don’t know about Marxism or communism orsocialism or whatever; I just don’t understand it. I haven’t been educatedto understand about politics. But all I have is my own beliefs, and when
I see people fighting about skin colour, and when I see poverty, it annoys
me. It upsets me. And I can only comment on that, on what I believe…”
All that remains now is to see if The Specials can hold on to the mostimportant belief of all: belief in themselves as The Specials. Adrian Thrills •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 103

rex features

Lg : “It’s terrible when you have a song like that andyou see that, gradually, it’s all coming true. Like, thatkid got killed the other day up in Liverpool, y’know?
[David Moore, the crippled boy run over by a police
van during a riot in Toxteth on the eve of the royal
wedding.] It’s a bit frightening when you predict
something’s gonna happen; it’s always horrible when
you actually see it’s coming true.”
You two still live in Coventry. What are things like there at the moment?
th: “It’s quietened down again.”
Lg: “I think that since we done that gig in Coventry [the Festival Against
Racism], although we lost a lot of money, I think it was well worth losingthat money for what it’s actually achieved. I mean, like before you used to
get the tension in town, it used to be terrible. But now, it’s like what we’ve
done has actually got through. The residents round outside expectedtrouble, the police were out in force, they expected a big fight, a running
battle – and it never happened. So it’s proved that this concert did
something in the end, ’cos what people was expecting was a fight, andthere wasn’t any fight.
“Even for me, walking in this town on Saturday afternoon, it was reallyfrightening, and police everywhere. But now it’s a lot different, a lot
better. So I’m convinced that what we’ve done has actually helped to calm
the whole thing down a lot.”
It must be good to feel that you’re getting somewhere, then, that you’re
not banging your head against the wall.
Lg: “It’s great. I think that’s one of the best things that we’ve actuallyachieved, to get through to the public in that way. And even if it costs us
a lot of money, so what? It would be good if there was more bands trying
to do things like that. ’Cos let’s face it, I know it’s like saying to the kids,‘OK, we hope that things’ll get better.’ Its hope – I know it’s not enough. But
at least you’re trying to calm things down a bit.”
But haven’t you had a policy in the past of not playing to NF-typeaudiences, of stopping the show if they try that on?
th: “Yeah, that was like preaching to the converted ’cos we don’t wantthem there, but…”
Lg: “I think that’s stupid, really, because if you’re gonna get through to– it’s best to get the people who’ve got different views completely, and talkto them about it. You can’t go and talk to people who believe in what
you’re doing anyway. To me, that’s like knocking your head on a brickwall. You’ve got to try and get through to those who’ve actually beenbrainwashed to believe its right to take a life. Those are the people that I
think we should try and get to the concerts, so we can talk to them at least.
“’Cos if you try and push them to one side they’ll only get worse. Because
you get those at the top who are just using them for their own little gameand they get a good laugh out of it. It’s alright for them, but the kids there –1981

j u l y – s e p t em b e r

The Playhouse
NoTTiNgham

The Projected Passion Revue LIVE!
mm aug 22 The new-look Dexys midnight Runners present “three different acts, spiritually in tune”.
lot of people laugh at Dexys
Midnight Runners. They say they’restupid. Conceited. Arrogant. They
scorn the clothes they wear and the image
they project. They believe the music to bea pale parody of soul. The band are a bunchof clowns.
Cheap humour, my friend, cheap humour.
No one, but no one, could be as dedicated totheir craft as Dexys Midnight Runners. Under
Kevin Rowland’s undisputed leadership theband have grown away from their former
aggressive incarnation into something far
more introspective, but something in turnwith far more depth.
These new Dexys seem more united now,with a clear common purpose. They projecta unique spirit and in turn a whole lot of soul.
Musically, judging by the new material,
they’ve now mastered the art of creating
instantly memorable songs that carry a depthof feeling. “Show Me” is the classic example –a superb hookline punched home by blazing
horns, the sturdy rhythm section and

S.GLYN-JONES / ADRIAN BOOTA

104 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

Rowland’s beautifully phrased vocals imbue itwith a massive strength and lasting power.
Similarly, a new epic called “Until I Believe
In My Soul” is five minutes’ worth of awesome
emotion, translated through a deft melody
that’s punctuated by horns and Rowland’s
superb falsetto vocals,
stopping only for a quick
burst of be-bop music
halfway through. “Until I
Believe…” is the positive
proof of Dexys’ progress.
Before, Rowland only
hinted at the versatility
he possesses in his voice,but this no one could
have expected.
His voice flickers withemotional fire as he reaches inside himself,
constantly searching to transmit his obvious
internal struggle. The music builds slowly anddramatically and then stops suddenly. The
audience is hushed and spellbound as
Rowland falls to his knees and then jumps

augusT 16

back up again, falling again as he begins
shouting throughout this heartfelt workout,“I will punish my body until I believe in my soul,punish it! Punish it!”
On paper it may read like a cheap stunt.
On stage Sunday night it was positively
frightening. Only a bandas strong as Dexys are now
could have attempted sucha thing. Further proof of
their new-found maturity
was in the way the band
structured their set.
After opening with anunnamed instrumental,
the band ran through adramatic “Tell Me When
My Light Turns Green”
before hitting the fragile beauty of “Soon”.
Transfixed, the crowd watched Rowland as hesang his tale of promise and intent, letting
Micky Billingham hang onto the song’s fadingorgan notes as the band positioned
themselves to tear into the heart-rushing

They’re now
creating instantly
memorable songs
that carry a depthof feeling

Alto sax player Brian
Maurice on stage
with frontman Kevin
Rowland in the
Dexys Mk II lineup

former Secret Affair
drummer Seb Shelton
and guitarist Billy
Adams help Dexys
achieve “more depth”“Plan B”. With a song as heady as
this, its power could be so easily
lost in lesser hands. But Dexys
are tight and disciplined. Eachmember concentrates solely on
the song, before “Plan B” is taken
down to just bass and drums and the band
begin chanting.
A slight pause and a glorious intro of horns
signals the arrival of “Dance Stance”, a classic
song that ranks with anything you care tomention. Beauty and strength mixed tomatch; you could feel the audience gasp as
the shivers ran up their spine.
Ain’t no doubt about it, for all the sneers
and cheap cracks that Dexys get every timethey dare mention soul, they are unmatchedin projecting that very quality. No one comesnear them.
By training, working and relaxing together
they’ve become a single-minded force. Able
to deliver an unequalled emotional power,
their brave shows grip an audience like noother. From the forceful attack of Paul

Speare’s and Brian Maurice’s saxophones, tothe concise power of Seb Shelton’s drummingand Rowland’s emotive vocals, there are no
weak links.
Each cog works on an emotional power andintent, and at the end of a Dexys show you feelemotionally drained like never before. It pays
no respect to traditional rock show values, butinstead demands attention and respect. Bothfor yourself and the band. It deals with theheart and soul and tries to clarify confusion in
the minds of its audience.
Rowland thankfully doesn’t set himself up
as a leader, but acts the catalyst.
That quality of constant striving led to theintroduction of the Projected Passion Revue.
A show that (in the words of the programme)
presents “three physically different, thoughspiritually in tune, acts coming together
to make one complete show”.
Therefore the show opened with only
one half of the comedy duo The Outer
Limits. With his partner missing, Nigel
Planer struggled through on his own,
occasionally witty and quite a lot of the timenot. Eventually he conceded defeat on his
heavy metal epic joke as impersonation of two
characters proved far too much for him, andhe made way for Torque, a dance group.
Far more interesting than the contrived
eroticism of Hot Gossip, Torque are four
females and two guys who dance with grace
and imagination to an equally thoughtful
soundtrack. Always mesmerising, they
provided a welcome alternative to nearly
everything that moves in current music.
Intense emotions and passion of this quality
has been fading from music for years now.
Dexys are reinstating it with verve, strengthand intelligence.
No wonder people don’t like them.
Paolo Hewitt
HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 105

1981

j u l y – s e p t em b e r

Soft Cell’s Marc
Almond, 1981:“We wanted toput emotion into
electronic music”

106 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

“We’re notdilettanteat all”
From art school, SOFT
CELL have made theirbeds with synthesizers,
Northern soul andintimations of a life ofvice. And now they’re in
the charts! “If we wanted
to be pop stars,” says
Mark Almond, “wecould’ve been reallyobvious and shallow”— NME SEPTEMBER 12 —RING ON THE carnival people!” barks theauthoritative voice of a stage manageress,
who is trying to instil a sense of urgency
into the final dress rehearsal before a rare
live Top Of The Pops broadcast, now only
three hours away.
In the coffee bar outside the studio, nobody responds. Well,going by the gaudy array of costumes, she could be calling anyone,
be they the Dollar drum majorettes, the cosmopolitan-clothed
Funkapolitan or even the assembled cast of the BBC’s next
prestige production Nancy Astor, what with their showy
Victorian evening dress.
As it happens, she’s paging the obvious: the train of Mardi Gras
extras brought along to illustrate Modern Romance’s ridiculous
and opportunistic “Everybody Salsa”. Evidently the producer’s
limited idea of “good television” overrules quality control.
Aware of TOTP’s visual limitations, John Foxx – looking likea stylish cross between Rhett Butler and Beau Brummell – hasassembled his own props. “Meet my drummer,” he says,
introducing the majestic bust he’s carrying under his arm. His
TV group is fleshed out by human sculptures Eddie Maelov,
resplendent in Noel Coward lounge suit, and Sunshine Patteson,
in elegant evening gown.
“He’s here to remake The Great Gatsby,” John joshes Eddie.
“And Sunshine’s,eh, late for the wedding,” Eddie kids his partner. »»HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 107

fin costello / getty

“B

1981

j u l y – s e p t em b e r

Meanwhile a bunch of office boys have strayed onto the set – oh my God,
it’s OMD after a colour supplement primer in American preppiness.
Sitting in the middle of this fanciful costume ball, this week’s No 1 unit
Soft Cell appear to be cinderellas – and that’s despite singer Marc
Almond’s wristloads of bracelets and studs and the brassy gold necklaces
dangled around his neck. Bemused by their chart bedfellows, Soft Cell
scan this evening’s roll call.
“John Foxx, Gary Numan, Teardrop Explodes, Orchestral Manoeuvres,us – it’ll be dry ice a-go-go tonight,” predicts Marc with a giggle and a groan.
Actually, Numan couldn’t make it, but he has sent his video. So, apartfrom The Human League, who weren’t invited although “Love Action”
had yo-yoed up to No 3, tonight’s TOTP is a valuable survey of the everevolving electro-disco beat – from pioneer John (Ultra) Foxx, throughpopularisers Numan and OMD to former pupils Soft Cell.
Soft Cell have absorbed their lessons well. “Tainted Love” – once a
Northern disco hit for Marc Bolan’s partner Gloria Jones – is one of themost assured and stunning syn-ful dance
singles released this year. In its combinationof streamline software simplicity and sensual
throb it reinforces NY heroes Suicide’s
experiments in emotion-tugging electronics
without repeating them directly, as they had
done previously with the earlier “Memorabilia”.
They’ve taken the whole thing a step further
on the 12-inch version, which effortlessly
merges with the B-side version of The
Supremes’ “Where Did Our Love Go” via an
extremely inventive, cool melodic burndown.
Natural little touches like that contribute to“Tainted Love”’s transcendence of genre
prejudices. They elevate it, and by
implication the whole electro-bop,
above the fickle clutches of the fad
fiends and place it in the public arena
where it belongs.
Nobody should be surprised, hurt ordisappointed that Soft Cell are sitting
pretty at the top of the BBC charts.

up against Spandau svengali Steve Dagger, or even Blue Rondo’s Chris
Sullivan, Stevo appeared as little more than a court jester.
However, as Spandau and Blue Rondo’s attempts to stay ahead haveresulted in increasingly absurd fads, the unforced emergence of onetime bizzaro groups Depeche Mode and Soft Cell sets the wholeoperation in a far better light. Compare, for instance, Spandau Ballet’s
degeneration from kitschy visionaries into hack funk plagiarists with
Soft Cell’s rise from the rather trashy aesthetes behind the Bizzare song
“The Girl With The Patent Leather Face” to dancehall favourites anddecide for yourselves who’s created the New Soul Version. And suddenly
it becomes apparent that Stevo was closer to the pulse than the rest.
“Stevo has been knocked an awful lot,” states Marc. “He’s been called
all sorts of things. Paul Morley said, which was really untrue, that Some
Bizzare was a nice sort of home for all these little groups that nobody
wanted. Well, nobody knew whether to want them or not then because
they were unknown. I admire Stevo for going out to be untrendy, forturning down groups who were prepared to beon the album, accepting the futurist tag and all.”
Whatever, Some Bizzare Album just wasn’tvery good. Groups like themselves and Depeche
Mode have improved upon the original
premise, and B-Movie promise to do the same.
Otherwise Some Bizzare was a plainly
uninspired collection of groups grappling
gamely with the blueprints of originals like
Kraftwerk and Suicide. Being something ofa purist, David is less tolerant than his partnerof the electro-boppers who’ve slavishly
followed the patterns of the masters.
“All the originals get left behind,” he mutters
ruefully. “Kraftwerk should have got muchhigher in the charts. They’re theinnovators of this electronic dancemusic and they’re so muchbetter than all these shitty
little things…”
Marc collapses into shrill,slightly embarrassed giggles, but
David continues undeterred.
“…that get into the charts. It’s true,”he asserts. “I’m just saying what I
think, you know. It makes me sick to
see all these stupid little kids withscarves tied around their heads
playing what Kraftwerk were doing
four years ago. It just irritates me.”David is painfully aware of the fact thatdetractors – like myself – once used todismiss Soft Cell with similar disdain.
“I don’t consider ourselves as part ofthat,” he baldly states. “We don’temphasise that we’re an electronicor synthesizer group. It’s just an
instrument that we use – it’s versatile
and we like it.”
Soft Cell have gone beyond the stage of
infatuation with all things mechanical.
They’ve soaked up ideas and forms,
which they’ve since subordinated totheir own needs, as opposed to lapsing
into the dumb, cliched worshipping ofmachinery. Because they don’t wear
their art like a badge they’ve
sometimes been considered
superficial dilettantes.
“We’re not dilettante at all,”responds Marc reasonably. “If wewere like that, we could have madeeasy, safe moves all along. But wewanted to put emotion into
electronic music. We were sickof people saying that electronic
music was to suck your cheeks in“Kraftwerk
are theinnovators of
this electonic
dance music”

LONE, LATIN-TINgEd
trumpet sounds throughthe corridors and seeps all
askew and off-key into Soft Cell’s
dressing room. The duo make an
odd couple – “It wasn’t planned thatway,” they assure me.
Singer Marc Almond, fromSouthport, is small, effervescent andgiggly; and musician David Ball, fromBlackpool, is tall, laconic, almost moroseand more conscientiously artisan thanartist. Unsurprisingly, Marc dominates
the conversation.
“There,” he sighs, “I’ve gone and hogged
the interview again.”Marc plays frontman with relish – all
Liberace gestures and varying voice
pitches – while David is the natural
straight man who is still wondering what
all the fuss is about. What with theformer’s flutterings and the latter’srefusal to participate in the creation of
the Soft Cell myth, the duo were at first
comfortably dismissed as vague andflighty futurists prepared to ride
whatever bandwagon was available.
The first one to happen along was theSome Bizzare Album compilation put
together by East End futurist DJ andlovable pest Stevo. When it came out, theSome Bizzare boys were seen as poor
relations to the more stylish publicists of
the Spandau Ballet/Rusty Egan set. Stoodfin costello / gettyA

108 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

“We like people
to think there’s
something seedy inour backgrounds”:
Dave Ball (left) andMarc Almondsoft cellto, or to pose against the Berlin Wall to. On the other hand, if we wanted to
be pop stars, which in a way nauseates me, we could have been reallyobvious and shallow. We could’ve made ‘Everybody Salsa’, you know.”
He pauses; a look of fear clouds his face: “There, now they’ll never speak
to me again.”
OfT CELL EmErgEd from the twin backgrounds of Leeds Art
College and Northern soul. Though firstand foremost soulboys, they didn’t meeton the dancefloor but in a classroom at the
aforementioned college, where Marc wasstudying performance art – on the same
course, incidentally, as Indian rubber man
Fad Gadget – and David was just “fiddlingabout with synthesizers”.
Their performance training isn’t immediately
apparent from their TOTP “Tainted Love” show
– David does the standing still quite well, while
Marc twitches engagingly through a clumsy setof extravagant gestures barely in sync with thewords – but it was a valuable grounding.
“It instilled in us the need to be independent,”
recalls Marc, “because the course we were doing
consisted of being put into a big studio with all thesefacilities and then being told, ‘Right, whatever you do,go ahead and do it. It’s all up to you and you’ve got
three years to make something out of it.’”Marc performed; David produced the soundtrack.
What they did then isn’t relevant now, says David.
Marc more helpfully expands.
“For me, my performance-art background is only
important because it gave me the confidence to get
out there on stage. It was just, like, exercising myself
in getting up on stage and not caring if I make a foolof myself. After that, it’s just a case of looking back on
things you did three years ago and feeling a little redfaced about them, if only because your ideas improvea lot in the meantime.”
More telling is their apprenticeship in Northern teen disco – NOT thesophisticated clubs where the DJ plays a never-ending stream of jazzfunk imports from New York that nobody recognises or indeed would
bother taking home with them. Their roots are in a poppier dance, in thetunes that occasionally make the charts; “Tainted Love” is their tribute to
the teen dance.
“We both like Northern soul, ’60s music and the 12-inch record,”
explains Marc. “We thought we would try to bring that ’60s sound andstyle of song into the ’80s, but the problem was of how to do a 12 inch of‘Tainted Love’ without doing the boring, very standard thing of stripping
it all down to the bass and drums and re-editing the sound, which is
putting me off 12 inches in a way.
“Then we had the idea of doing an instrumental bit in the middle andgoing into another song at the end, almost like a medley tribute to where
we come from, those songs that made an impression on us. It was
originally just going to include a few bars of ‘Where Did Our Love Go?’,but we like the way it turned out and included the whole song.
“And we even had a slight tongue-in-cheek drum break in the middle– that’s the crashing of dustbin lids and Syndrums.”
Before talking to Soft Cell, it was easy to think that the radical leap in
quality from the earlier “Memorabilia”s’ Suicide-made-painless to the
distinctive torch reading of “Tainted Love” was more down to producer
Mike Thorne than the duo. The wonderful segue, for instance, is a disco
producer’s trademark. However, it becomes apparent that it was the duo
who went in with the ideas and Mike Thorne made them work. It wasn’t
the production of “Memorabilia” that was at fault, but the song itself. The
duo still quite like it, though they acknowledge the sound improvementsof their hit.
“We had liked Mike Thorne’s production of Wire,” says Marc, “andanyway he is a less obvious choice of producer than Daniel Miller [theMute man who produced “Memorabilia”] for electronic music. We’re very
pleased the way things have turned with Mike and we’re going to New
York soon to record a new single and LP with him.”“Tainted Love” could mark the beginning of the end of their longstanding love affair with disco. Being a Friday-night DJ at Leeds

S

Warehouse, Marc Almond is fully aware of all its innovations andfluctuations. But these days its appeal is wearing thin – the music’s either
too distressingly uniform or too unconvincing in its fickleness.
“You can’t go on forever on the dancefloor,” admits Mark ruefully.
“There is still some great disco coming out, but it’s coming to wear a little
thin on me. I hate this new Latin music, though the real Latin music isgreat. I mean, how can people who have no roots in Puerto Rico bring out
this kind of real personal music?
“I think it’s really depressing,” he sighs
wistfully. “If that’s going to be played at thedisco then I’m staying at home. I hope the faddoesn’t last, then the people who genuinely likeit can stay with it and leave behind the people
who just like wearing Spanish hats.”
He pauses for breath, then continues theassault: “It’s the same with funk as well. There’s
some good stuff, but most of it is horrible. The
only funk that is different and exciting is James
Chance & The Contortions.”
Dave concurs, griping: “There’s a lot of rehash,nothing new…” …until Marc interrupts withloud handclaps and absurd chant (number 3?):“Get on down to those dancing feet/Get on down
to that Latin beat!”“If this is the new innovatory funk,” he sneers,“then I’m sorry – where have I been for the past few
years? The real new funk isn’t Spandau Ballet’s‘Chant Number One’, it’s people like Cabaret
Voltaire. Some things on their Voice Of America havea very James Brown feel.”
Disillusioned with the dancefloor, where do you
turn to from here, Marc?
“To the bedroom, I think,” he giggles. “It’s getting
to the stage where we’ve said what needs to be said
about that, about going out and having fun… andthen come the tears.
“Our writing is getting more personal, a bit deeper
and a lot sadder. It’s about reaching into the stuff
and writing things that you have to feel about. Sad, so-called serious
music can be entertaining, too. The Walker Brothers, for example, madereal emotional music that made you feel all funny inside, after which you
felt happy.”“We’ve said
what needs tobe said about
going out andhaving fun”

OfT CELL ArE one of the few units who have a genuine claim on
the new cabaret, even if theirs is as much Batley Variety Club as
the Berlin kind. Their entertainment is effusively emotional in
the showbiz tradition, ridiculously expressive, mildly satirical/
comical and hilariously self-indulgent.
“If nobody else is going to dance, I certainly am,” boasts Marc.
And in the best tradition of Northern variety it’s also a little grubby. For
reasons known only to themselves, they’ve taken to having publicity
shots done in sex shops with peculiar props. Offensive? Sexist? Not really,
just daft.
David: “We like people to think that there is something shady or seedy
in our backgrounds that nobody knows anything about.”
Have you?
“We’re not saying!”“We’re not interested in being clean and goody-goody,” explains Marc.
“We like writing songs about sex and trash. We did that consciously to
get a dirtier image, really. The LP will be called Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret.”“We got one song from a News Of The World headline, ‘Sex Dwarf Lures
A 100 Disco Dollies To A Life Of Vice’,” he laughs. “We felt it just had to be
put down and immortalised.”To the people who have to sell them, Soft Cell are depressingly difficult
to pin down. Neither angstvoll nor mechanical, they match coolelectronics with body-heated emotion.
“People tell us that we’re directionless,” admits Marc. “Well, if I had
a plan and knew what I would be doing in three years I wouldn’t bother.
It’s more exciting to be directionless – this is the perfection that we’reaiming towards. We want to be aware of everything – people’s feelings,
the media, trivia, deepness, everything! And if that’s being dilettanteand directionless, then I am dilettante and directionless and GLAD!”

S

Chris Bohn •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 109

i1981OC TOBER – DECEMBER

ABc, DurAN DurAN,
DeAD keNNeDyS,
the pOLice AND MOre

“I’m disappointed”
MM Oct 10 the Specials split as terry, Lynval
and Neville form a new group. Jerry Dammers
is “glad they stayed for ‘Ghost town’”.
he SpecialS, aS we exclusively predicted last week,
have split up. Well actually, to be totally accurate,
The Specials as we know them have come to an end.
As we said, Lynval Golding, Terry Hall and Neville
Staples have quit to form a new band.
They’re calling themselves the Fun Boy Three and havea single released under this name on October 30, titled“The Lunatics (Have Taken Over The Asylum)” with
“Faith, Hope and Charity” on the B-side. The three arestaying with Chrysalis.
Why the three have decided to leave, what precisely theother four are doing and generally what the hell is going on
remains uncertain.
Chrysalis press person Chris Poole said that he wasn’t
in any position to make any further comments about the
future of The Specials. He said it was likely that the Fun
Boy Three would do an album and would tour eventually
but was unable to elucidate further.
According to our story, Jerry Dammers and Sir Horace
Gentleman are sticking together, while Brad Bradbury
is concentrating his efforts on his commitments+�THE LUNATICS
with Race Records and Roddy Radiation is�� INAVE TAKEN OVER �'+
said to be working with a rockabilly band.
THE ASYLUM
1W4 ny1�Stop press: Late on Monday, Jerry,I�iM�se w DA"»R
Ñ
who with Sir Horace and Brad is
accompanying Rico, said: “I’m
• THE
FUN
disappointed but I’m glad they stayed
BOY
in the band long enough to record ‘
Ghost Town’.”

janette beckman / gettyT

110 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

iI~d

!

~

F

C

M.

FE

1

Splitting from The
Specials but staying withrecord label Chysalis:(l–r)Neville Staples,
Lynval Golding and TerryHall as Fun Boy ThreeHISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 111

1981

this heat’s charles
hayward (right) andGareth Williams, wholeft to study dance inIndia after the releaseof punningly titledsecond album Deceit

OCTO B E R – DECEMBER“It’s time people saw reality”
MM DEC 12 Introducing, in their subterranean lair: This Heat. “We play for long hours most days each week.”

lesley evansGo past the solitary townhouse,
down the long valley, underneaththe glass and wrought-iron canopy,
through the door on the left, past the gallery,
and you find yourself at the heart of a halfconcealed labyrinth of artists’ studios not far
from the centre of world-famous showcase
for monetarism, Brixton. Behind the vaultlike door of what appears to be a meat
refrigeration unit lies Cold Storage studio,
where This Heat are melting atmospheres
into shapes of awesome proportions.
Let’s make one thing clear, in case theirrecently released second album Deceit
gets lost in the flood of vinyl trash. This Heat
have made a record crammed with daring
imagination and disturbing intensity, an album
that’s been one of my most frequently playedin ’81. Forged in a foundry of pre-apocalyptic
tension, Deceit is music that mirrors the fears
of the modern age, remembers the past, andacts as if they’ve never been apart.
And this dowdy workshop is where thealchemy works; where they made part of thealbum and recorded their forthcoming RoughTrade single “Greenfingers”. This Heat –currently just the two , Charles Hayward andCharles Bullen, following the departure of
Gareth Williams – work in here with the singleminded determination of artisans, the walls
a symbolic shit-filer for keeping out what they
see as the impurities of conveyor-belt pop.
Not that they’d agree with such symbolism.
“People see things in symbols all the time,” says
Hayward the “drummer” (though they’re both
multi-instrumentalists). “The symbols are
empty. It seems to me the whole of Europe’s
living inside symbols and it’s time people saw
reality. The division between people becauseof how old they are or what clothes they wear isjust a symbolic division, an intellectual game.”
Hayward looks strangely English andalmost old-fashioned when he walks into the
112 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

studio wearing his grey suit and bicycle clips,
a striking contrast to Bullen, a dark, towering
figure who displays a vaguely ’60s-ish air of
dishevelment – an appearance no doubt
encouraged by the fact that he’s been up allnight working at the mixing desk.
Bullen, a quietly intense character, doesn’tlisten to much of the music produced by his
contemporaries in the wacky world of rock ’n’
pop, and the only radio station he listens to is
the BBC World Service – he likes to compare
the news to the information given out here.
This Heat have been together for about six
years, yet Deceit is only their second album,
and often it appears as if they don’t exist at all.
They admit that – at least in the past – they’vebeen isolated and confined. “We don’t
normally talk much about our history, but time
moved very slowly in some ways,” explains
Bullen. “My personal clock moved very slowly
for the first three years that I was in This Heat.
We do gigs very rarely – once every threemonths sometimes. We
play for long hours mostdays each week.”
They have, they feel,changed though, especiallywhen they toured in Europe
some time ago. Hayward
now sees the relationshipbetween music and life asa major area of concern.
“That is the problem. Just people together
in a room making music, how that reflects
outwards to everything, how much you’reliving in a cloud cuckoo land when you enter
this really fantastic [musical] world. Deceit is a
consciously social record. I think it’s very Now.”
The record’s preoccupation with
contemporary political concerns screams
out from the cover – the front is a death mask,a collage made from blurred images of money,
blood, a mushroom cloud and the Stars &Stripes; the back is a similarly composed
display, including cut-outs from government“survival” leaflets.
Besides the obvious pun of the title,
there’s a more serious intent. This Heat see
the world as a series of deceptions, and theirlyrics address themselves to different
manifestations of what they see as ideologicaldeceit, like consumerism, and the idea ofcontinual social progress. Bullen and Hayward
see their role as removers of the mask.
“Let’s not pull the wool over our own eyes,”says Hayward. “Let’s understand that this iswhat’s happening, because only when we know
can we make moves. Us stumbling along in thedark, the Great Deceiver’s perfectly aware ofwhat’s happening.
“The First and Second World Wars areinterrelated inextricably, and the Third World
War’s going to be part of the same thing. I was
reading some review of a play at the ICA… ‘allthis is done so that they can wear cleanlypressed shirts and drink
good brandy’. And that’s
what’s happening – there
are people who want toensure they can havecleanly pressed shirt andgood brandy.”
Suspicions that there’s awhiff of crudish conspiracy
theory in the air – though I
have no quarrel with many of their basic
assumptions – grow stronger when Bullensays he thinks it can’t be long before Crass are
put in jail. When I mention the fragmentationof youth subculture into various warring
tribes, Hayward says this is “intentional”.
“Once you have a mass of people whoare completely at each other’s throats thenthey’re the easiest thing in the world tocontrol, manipulate, especially when they
think they’re in a free society.”“For me it’s beena question of
investigating a lotof old music”

I“I’ve gotten
some criticism”
MM OCT 17 Introducing: unlikely
chart star Laurie Anderson.

“O

Superman”, LaurieanderSon’S eight-minutesingle of extraordinary
evocation/irritation, quality/
deficiency, invention/
monotony looks, singlehandedly, set to challenge
all our glib, pat notions of
performance art as some
Beckett gone barmy.
Lovingly patronised byRadio One, and selling
faster than WEA can press
up more copies, “O Superman” is a small
segment of a four-part, eight-hour (!)
multimedia show called United States
Pts I–IV, an affectionate critique of modern
Stateside society: “The first part is abouttransportation, the second is politics, thethird money and the last love. What they areare combinations of film and slides andtalking and gestures, a lot of electronics andmusic. There are maybe 12 or 15 songs in eachpart – I’m still working on Part III right nowÉ”
Anderson, an alarmingly fragile, punkcropped 34-year-old with a soft Chicago
accent, first had the brainwave/storm after
graduating from Columbia University
with a sculpture MA and no realistic meansof making a living. Combining her artistic
education, tale-telling talents, musicalbackground and flair for pure invention,
she started performing all over America toecstatic reviews; lauded by punks andprofessors alike.
But does it translate/
appeal to a British
audience? “Oh yes. The
structure is built to describe
a country, to describe thedecentralisation of where
I live and what it means
to live in a highly
technological society– the United States. But,
generally, it’s about thebottom falling out of thecentre of whatever youranderson:describing
decentralisation

fantasies are about yoursense of place.”
How specific is it? “Well,
I’ve gotten some criticism
for the political per seideas in Section II – ’know,ÔHow come you’re using
these political ideas andnot really resolving them?’ I couldn’t believethat sort of reaction, because first of all I don’tknow what to do about them; secondly, as an
artist, I feel free to use that information; andthird, I’m just not running for political office.”
So what’s “Superman” about? “Well, one of
the most important things to me is not to bedidactic and to create a situation that is
special enough for people to make up theirown minds as much as possibleÉ To behonest, I didn’t really think that these songs
would translate onto record – I thought they’djust be too blank without the pictures but
now I think it could be possible, so the plan isto try some of the songs from this series.”If, as she says, the hypnotic “O Superman”
was written unspecific, other parts ofAnderson’s vision are crucially accessible.
For instance, the story of William F Buckley;a man who, while leafletting the public topreserve private property, is bundled froma shopping centre (the centre of civilisation– in itself a stab at consumerism) because
he’s found to be trespassing.
Where do these ideas come from?
“I dunno, my influences? I like Captain
Beefheart – he’s my favourite. But I probably
have no taste – I like almost anything. I’d sit
through any movie just ’cos I think it’s soamazing – that light, just shimmering up
there – tssst! And the best is that people areall eating in the dark together, y’know,
popcorn and drinking cokes – it’s not aslonely as TV. One of the reasons I like being
with peopleÉ” Steve Sutherland“I like Captain
Beefheart – he’s
my favourite”

Tour tensions
MM DEC 12 Vince Clarke leaves Depeche Mode.

D

epeche Mode are now a three-piece – keyboard
player and main songwriter Vince Clarke has left.
He’ll continue providing material for the band but
won’t be touring or recording. Tensions have been buildingin Depeche Mode for some months. Vince was reportedly
unhappy about the touring aspect of their work and has quit
to concentrate on songwriting.

clarke:disliked
touring andinterviews

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 113

rex features, Getty

If it’s “intentional”, who has the intention?
“I really don’t think it’s a question of ‘they’,
it’s a question of organisation, structures
perpetuating themselves. There are people
who profit from all these things, but they’repeople who are riding on the crest of thatstructure. Maybe they’ve inherited that
position, they’re inside a dynamic they’re notreally in control of, but they profit from it, andso they perpetuate and accentuate certain
aspects of it.”
The ending of Deceit – an instrumental trackcalled “Hi Baku Shyo”, a Japanese phrase
literally translated as “Suffer Bomb Disease” –puts across This Heat’s message in dramatic
terms , but their new single “Greenfingers”
shows a different side of their concern for thehuman race’s relationship to its environment.
“It basically says ‘grow food’,” says Bullen.
“We’re not saying ‘go and live on a farm’, you
can’t do that. The food that I was given as a kid– I’m sure me mam loved me and all that, butthere was no awareness of where it comesfrom. You can get into specific details – buying
stuff from South Africa or stuff like that.”
This Heat produce music that defies glib
categorisation, that splinters into a variety ofmoods, from ultra-violence to calm serenity,
and welds seemingly incongruous elements
like noise, sound collage, fierce splays ofelectric guitar and traditional English folk
singing into a homogenous unity. Some will seethem as part of the “avant-garde” – a mistaken
assumption. “The avant-garde, for me, is aself-conscious thing,” explains Hayward.
“Once you’re self-consciously trying to go
where no man’s gone before, wilfully trying todevelop a vocabulary, then you’re not really
understanding where music stands in a cultural
flow. You’re force-feeding something.”
Bullen: “And I’d say I’ve been guilty of that in
the past.”
Hayward: “All of us have been guilty; there’s
been a lot of that. It’s a question of being
yourself, which opens up such a personal
sound that some people
would say it’s inaccessible andavant-garde. For me it’s beena question of investigating a
lot of old music, a desire toreconnect to a seam that was
suddenly broken. It was theresult of industrialisation, andI’d say it reached its fruition
with the First and Second
World Wars.”
Traditional English folk
singing isn’t the only ethnic
influence on This Heat,
though. Both are fascinatedby music from all over theworld, whether Irish and Swedish folk, Grecianmusic, or roots reggae. “I found the interesting
thing about listening to music from other partsof the world is finding the similarities, because
they’re indications of where music relates
immediately to the body,” says Hayward.
“If we’re dealing with a totally smashedculture – where we are now – then to rebuild
we have to find the universal truths, find whatrhythms work, why they work, what tonalities
work in a certain position… to understand how
music affects directly.” Lynden Barber

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER“I’m a30-year-old
millionaire!”
THE POLICE are doing very nicely indeed.
Still, frontman Sting isn’t remote fromcurrent events. Nuclear weapons, civil
disobedience… he has a view. “I don’t wantriots,” he says, “but I can see why they
happen. It couldn’t be worse for the kids.”— MELODY MAKER OCTOBER 10 —here’s a wind in Munich,” explains andy
summers, “that makes people go crazy.”Oh yeah?
“it blows at certain times of the year and people
who are susceptible can… y’know…” – he rolls
his eyes around the dressing room and bares a fineset of pearlies – “lose control. it’s like the effect a full moon has. You don’t
believe me, do you?”well, since it’s coming from somebody who’s taken the art of the gentle
wind-up further than a swiss clocksmith, it does, perhaps, require a smidgenof the old sodium chloride for an easy passage. it might make sense, though.
ever since landing in this beautiful but mixed-up kind of city things have
been… well… odd.
what can you say of an airport that doesn’t believe in flashing lights or men
with ping-pong bats to guide your plane into position. But instead has a large
van bearing the words “Follow Me” on its back in two-foot-high letters?
why the road leading to the Munich hilton should be awash in inches ofwater or its reception hall in about eight species of dog are two eternal
mysteries to ponder in quieter moments.
at least someone’s certain… “The Police? Oh no, the bus hasn’t got here yet.
The gig’s at nine and the soundcheck’s at six, so they’ll probably be leaving
here around 4.30.” This from the tour manager, perhaps? no, from the girlwho hands out the room keys. The noun “drink” and it’s bosom adjective“large” spring to mind. »»lynn goldsmith / getty“T
114 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

Sting by the pool at AIR
Studios Montserrat in the
Caribbean, where The
Police recorded theirfourth studio album,
Ghost In The Machine

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 115

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER

Outside the Marquee
Club in London’s Soho,
December 1981 – (l–r)
Sting, Andy Summers
and Stewart Copeland

Actually, the Police have arrived. A knot ofrelaxed but businesslike guests bustle throughthe mirror-ceilinged lobby and rapidly vanish
to their rooms. Not everybody has journeyed on
the coach. Andy Summers (why am I alreadycertain he’s going to become a wayward
influence?) likes trains and eschewed thevideo-equipped luxuries of the bus to chughis way from the last town. “This isn’t right,”
he surmises.
“I’m supposed to be here early waiting smugly
for them, and they beat me by 30 seconds.”
Guitars and suitcases spill into the lobby, fansragtaggle around the band, some clutchingpens, others cameras; a few have both and want
the chaps to sign the Polaroid pictures they’ve just taken. This isefficiency. And this is The Police back on the road.

of questing observation. “Lot of dogs in here,
aren’t there?”
A fair pride of autograph hunters, too,
including one with a broken leg.
“In our country it’s traditional to sign theplaster,” points out Sting to the hobbling Kraut
who had initially proffered a sheet of paper.
A leg is presented and a ballpoint wielded which
immediately sinks nib first into the soft outermaterial. Medical advance, it seems, has noplace for the autograph collector.
More autographs on the bus from within theranks. This tour obviously includes material
from Ghost In The Machine which features Sting
playing saxophone. The third matter of equallyapparent note is that you can’t sing and blow brass at the same instant.
A horn section was required. New Jersey trio The Chops are it – Darryl
Dixon, David Watson and Marvin Daniels.
They do an excellent job, but at the moment they’re doing some superb
blagging. In truth they want a couple of signed pictures of the band as
keepsakes, but are a bit embarrassed about admitting it. “This is for thefamily album?” quizzes Stewart Copeland as he inks across his image.
“Fuck no, I’m gonna sell it,” says Dave.
As the contorted profile of the Olympiahalle crests the Munich trafficjams, Stewart wonders about the architectural completion. “Are they
still putting it up or something?” That’s how tonight’s venue appears.
It looks like a huge metal tent barely supported by a posse of erratic
cranes, themselves tottering drunkenly aroundthe perimeter.
Inside, the overwhelming impression is ofa large mattress about to fall. For a moment he’s
marginally distracted and comforted by the factthat Genesis have just finished playing the place,and in fact had booked out of the Hilton not many
minutes before The Police tumbled in. Phil Collins
left a letter at reception: “Just bought the album andI love it, love Phil”.
“He BOUGHT it,” says someone.

“At least theriots have
got thegovernment
out of its sleep”

andre csillag / rex featuresI

t’s Friday OctOber 9 in Munich, the last date of a slim sevengig mini-tour designed to put the buzz back into playing live.
From the barrage of smiles it’s apparently been going very well.
Tomorrow will be the start of their first true holiday almost since
the band began – no albums to record, no rehearsals to attend, noappearances to make until December. These are happy boys.
Wish the same could be said of the drinks machine in the hotel room.
Multilingual instructions obtusely hint that each of the eight buttons
will propel a particular beverage into a tray underneath the fridge.
Number two is a can of Coke. Press number two,“clank, bong”, open drawer, nothing. Press it again,“clank, clank, bong”, still nothing. Give up.
Decide on an orange juice, number three. “Clank,
clank, clank… thud”, open drawer. Inside is a can of
Coke. What was that about a wind?
Time to move, and Sting, in black jeans anda sheepskin jacket, unusually thick for the
surprisingly warm clime, is already in the back of
the lobby and introductions are made. His firstremarks prove him to be a man – ahem, like myself –116 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

the police“T

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 117

�v

ebet roberts / gettyImost people missed the point of “Invisible Sun” – and it’s in fact a song of
nside the hall there already seems to be a band on stage
inner strength and determination – maybe the hope they have is born ofbelting through a Police track. “Just the roadies brushing up on
desperation rather than inspiration. I laugh lest I cry.
a few of our songs,” reveals Mr Copeland, who, overtaken by thelocation’s Olympic urge, sprints away down the stairs. I’ve neverknown a man disappear so quickly. He runs everywhere, and this fromhere is nO shadow of doubt in my mind,” says Sting, again
someone who later claims to be lazy: “If I happened to be a guitar
from the floor, “that one day, whether by accident or design,
player I’d be a real wimp; it’s just as well I play drums.”
they will be dropped, and they have to be got rid of either bypeaceful means or not.”He even succeeded in running around a disco that night. Flailingthrough an undergrowth of German limbs and drinks, I tried to keep up
The conversation in this case is running down the frightening alleys
with him as he made a circuit of the place. Hopeless. Wedged tightof nuclear war and warheads. But of the whole sentence it’s the last word
between a pillar and a Teutonic boozer, a long night of short breaths and– “not” – that worries me the most. What does he mean, and realising
immobile arms (panic… can’t reach money to purchase alcohol) pressed
he’s just argued himself into a moment of truth, Sting pauses before
close on the horizon. Suddenly a voice boomed in one ear: “Well that’s it,taking a leap.
shall we split?” We walked out two minutes after walking in.
“Well… I think rioting is a start. Genuine justified anger as appeared in
Back at the hotel, Sting had offered a slyly grinning invitation… “ComeEngland this year. Yeah,” he continues, warming to the conviction, “burnand see me around seven. I’ll be on the floor.” And he was. Boots andit down. You’ve every right to. I don’t want riots, I don’t want burning, but
socks off, sheepskin jacket rolled up as a pillow, he stared at the dressing
I can see why they happen. It couldn’t be worse for the kids, society’s done
room ceiling. This, it unfolded, was the Alexander Method, a system offuck all for them, and at least the riots have been successful since they’ve
relaxation developed by an Australian actor to prevent pre-performance
got the government out of its sleep.”tension. I had to admit that it closely resembled the northern hemisphere
The Police insist the “Invisible Sun” promo film shot around Belfast
practice of “lying down”, or “falling down” as it is occasionally known.
and rejected by the BBC was not a message but a statement of fact.
But according to Sting, a hard surface coupled with massaging of the big
Sting’s wife, who comes from the city, sat in during the editing, balancing
toe has helped relieve a few throat problems.
every Catholic and Protestant image, ensuring it
Last weekend it was his birthday: “We always
was non-sectarian.
seem to work on my birthday. I got very drunk, there
Stewart Copeland refuses to draw the boundaries"
was lots of cake flying around and the support
even that tightly: “It could be Kabul, Addis Ababa or
POLICEami%�
k.
group had the whole hall singing ‘Happy birthday
any city, maybe not even a city. There are a lot of
to Sting’. I’m 30.”
places in the world where life is unbelievable but it
Feels different, does it?
goes on. It’s not a film about the problems of Ireland,“Yes it does, actually. It’s an interesting time tobut about people living their lives in spite of them.” »reassess and plan ahead and think of yourself at theend of the next decade. I also looked back on the last
10 years – an abortive university career, a career as
Fair cop: Sting ona teacher, now I’m a 30-year-old millionaire, hah!”stage at Madison
Square Garden,
Of course, I haven’t reached that august
NYC, Jan ’81.
milestone myself.
�“Ha ha ha… oh, fuck off,” laughs the man. One nil.
EVERv,WfG.Ee
They are all distinctly “up” right now – a
combination of an idyllic bout of recording and a short burst ofhighly successful gigs.
“Montserrat, where we did Ghost In the Machine, worked out
really well,” says Andy “Munich Wind” Summers. “On the lastalbum at Hilversum we didn’t feel as if we’d got far enough away
and there was a lot of pressure from us.”
Sting was more specific: “It rained for four weeks and I had acold.” But the sunny atmosphere of Montserrat was conducive
to a bright, spontaneous album, two of the tracks, “Demolition
Man” and “One World”, being one-track wonders.
Harking back to less ecstatic times, Andy opines that
depression usually sets in when they’ve been on the road for too
long. “That’s when you start losing perspective, everybody wants
to leave the group and suddenly you can’t remember what you
were like before the group happened.”
How do you cope with it?
“Well… I read the Bible and pray a lot. Let’s kneel brother…”
You sod, I should have learnt by now.
“Omegaman” describes a way of getting through thosemoments, a way which he finds tougher to explain in person.
“There are times when you can break through depression andrecognise, almost as if from the past, a positive feeling. It snaps
you out of it, like a memory… it’s hard… when you feel lonely…
and I think everybody does… it’s nothing to be ashamed of…”
Are you grinning again, Summers?
One alerting discovery is that beneath the cheery exterior they
all share a measured fatalism, though in different areas and at
variant strengths. While the world tours and the viewed miseryhave given them a determination to change matters, or at least
point out that they must be altered, it’s also imprinted aninevitability on their reasoning.
Perhaps continued existence in a world where gigs always godown well (even if the band are dissatisfied with them) andalbums always sell by the millions (even if the band think they’repatchy) contributes to that. So as Stewart Copeland argues that1981

O C T O B E R Ð D ECEMBER

He say that far more gruesome scenes appear on TV news
August 22, 1981: The
Police at Liberty Bellthroughout the week but because of their regularity and slot
Park racetrack inthey cease to sink in. However loud the alarm clock rings, you
Philadelphia, third
date of the Ghost In
can eventually stop hearing it. Shift focus to Top Of The Pops
The Machine Tourand there’s no resistance.
“I can see why the BBC turned it down,” says Sting, “but I
disagree, I think it should be shown for exactly those reasons.
It is a chilling film, it sends tingles up my spine every time I see
it. There was a chance of talking about real issues in pop
music, but the BBC wouldn’t let us. The inference is that all
pop music should be meaningless, banal and stupid…”
This isn’t the sole focus for their fatalism. Their own famehas lately been getting a considerable dose of abjection;
not least from Andy Summers. “There is a conscious
move towards a lower profile and to lose the three laughing
blond heads; there are other groups in England who can dothat now.”
Manager Miles Copeland puts it more bluntly. “Thank
Christ for Adam.”
The faces have vanished from the cover of Ghost In The
Machine… sort of. The three digital hieroglyphics aren’t thetitle spelt out in runes but computerised mushes for each of
the band. The one in the middle is Sting, the top three arrows
representing his stand-up hair.
“It’s been fun being famous,” ventures Stewart Copeland.
Excuse the mild cough, Stewart, but you’re hardly good copy
for Anonymity Weekly. “Yeah. But the image is not soimportant any more, it’s done its job and it can berelinquished. There are problems: like buying
underwear at Woolworths and disappointing
the girl behind the counter because you didn’t
get extra large.”
One of the questions posed at Sting is whether hewants The Police to be the biggest group in theworld in five years. “I’d like the world to be here infive years. Basically, I don’t need another No 1, it
Close To Me” and “Walking On The Moon” hasdoesn’t give me any more ego massage than I’ve
more to do with cast iron than cotton wool. There’s
already got, it’s just a game now. It’s nice to be No 1,
no sparring; this is body blow after body blow frombut I’m not going to commit suicide if we’re not. Ita fast, ardent police force. The Olympiahalle has
was more important to produce something ofprobably witnessed limbs moved in a more
integrity. There will be a hit, the game will be played
graceful manner but never so many shifted at once.
to the hilt next month, but it wasn’t vital that
Halfway through, girls are sitting down and‘Invisible Sun’ should be No 1, just that it should be
dancing, waving arms in place of legs that no longer support them. Miles
released. Ghost In the Machine was an important step, because everyone
Copeland had reckoned that at the biggest, wildest Police gigs one person
was expecting a sequel to the last three, which didn’t happen.
faints every 30 seconds. I don’t know who this person is but I’m glad it’s
“As for the next direction, who knows? I don’t care right now. I don’t care
not me – I’d hate to have missed it.
whether we go on, or are successful as a group, it doesn’t worry me. I’m
The Chops are still feeling their way in, and though they frequently
genuinely more worried about my kids having reasonable lives, living
embellish Sting’s lines they never depart from the spirit – hard rhythm,
till they’re at least 20. Being the biggest group in the world doesn’t matternot gooey melody, like the heartbeat spikes on an ECG. They slip in asa fuck compared to that.”neatly as a spoon in soup and come up brimming.
Honestly, they really are in a good mood. The mattress-shaped venue
The one slow moment is “Invisible Sun”. The German audiences arehasn’t collapsed yet. If it did, around 8,000 kids would be going to bed early– though judging by spirited examples of limb-tangling happening in theless familiar with it since their single was “Every Little Thing She Does
gloom, the thought of an early night isn’t far from certain minds.
Is Magic”, also shared by the States. In comparison, “Shadows In theRain” functions at a similar pace but never seems to touch the ground,suspending itself on a chime of guitar harmonics. Sadly absent is thetill backstage, a German reporter has cornered Stewart but
is more intent on a little role reversal, spieling forth with a lecture
final trio from Ghost In The Machine – “Omegaman”, “Secret Journey”
on Polish Solidarity. “There must have been something wrongand “Darkness”. Fully attendant are “Roxanne”, “Can’t Stand Losingwith his tape recorder, everything we said
You” and “So Lonely”, all delivered wearing
came out of the speaker. It was like being
steel jackets.
interviewed over a PA.”
They bounced back to one of Sting’s earlier
comments: “I consider songwriting as mySomewhere in the audience is Mike Oldfield.
He’d made a silent appearance at themain job and I think I’m genuinely good at it.
soundcheck and would later put in an even
Being a musician, singer and performer are
briefer and quieter one backstage. Also reported
merely side effects.” Side effects? That’s liketo be hovering in the vicinity are Kirsty MacColl,saying Robin Hood approved of archery
Matchbox, Soft Cell and Leif Garrett, andbecause it got him out of doors.
they’re all apparently taking lodgings at theMunich would seem peculiarly short of
Hilton. Was there any way of warning thembackstage adulation or lunacy, though Andy
about the drinks machine or the dogs? Some
Summers does inform The Chops that before
things you just have to find out yourself, I guess.
the English gigs commence they’ll be expected
This gig is no velvet glove. Any set that starts
to get some blond wigs. “That’s nothing. Stingwith “Message In A Bottle”, “Don’t Stand So
wanted us to dress like SCHOOLGIRLS…” Yes,

michael putland / getty

S“The image
has done its
job now andit can be
relinquished”

118 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

the police

they have enjoyed themselves, no they don’t usually do much live stuff,
yup, there sure were a LOT of people out there.
The coach ride back to the hotel is uneventful, the pursuance of an aftergig meal less so. The hotel restaurant is closed. Undoubtedly the cook has
been standing in a breeze, but down the road apiece is a Greek place that
Andy knows and swears by. Someone phones and books a table for 15
people. We march to the door: “How many are coming?” – “Four” – “Oh”.
The first taxi driver has never heard of the place. The second knows it
intimately and declares his colleague in front to be “stupid”, by anevaluation born out by the number plate “MAD 4335”.
So here we are – Andy, Miles, photographer Tashi and myself sitting in
the middle of a table for 15 – a sort of budget last supper. Fortunately therest, including band, crew and promoters, pile in five minutes later – steak
and a remarkably small quantity of alcohol are consumed.
Stewart doesn’t indulge in the stuff, reckoning it unsafe for the system.
This he informs me on the plane home the following day, about 30
seconds before upending a cup of British Airways coffee down his
trousers. With great face, he calls the stewardess. “Could I have anothercoffee? Most of the last one is in my lap.”“Certainly, sir. I’ll bring you a soda
water… [what for, an underpants
cocktail?] to remove the stains.” A fineexample of lateral thinking.
The steaming diversion had interrupted
a discussion of Police alternatives –projects outside the band.
There was Sting’s acting: he’d departed
at 6.30 that morning to meet a director in
London and would shortly begin filming
Brimstone And Treacle at Shepperton.
“It’s definitely a good move for me,” he’dconfided. “A real coup, a real acting part.
The thing about films is they’re otherpeople’s dreams, they’re as flimsy as that.”
There was Andy’s album with Robert
Fripp. “It was so different, just Robert, me
and an engineer. It will probably come out

in late spring with maybe a tour in autumn. Half of it is two
guitars and the rest we built up between us. Several of thesongs have a Chinese pastoral effect… very pretty.”
Plus the fact that Mr Summers is also an accomplishedphotographer (having impressed Tom “Chief” Sheehan at
an earlier meeting), is currently assembling a book of works
and is watching his material appearing in The Face, Sunday
Express colour magazine, Hot Shoe and Creative Camera.
“I just want to go back to London, where I haven’t spent any
time for two years, take photographs – and go across theroad to buy a packet of cornflakes… that sort of thing.”
The Copeland targets are more long term. “Filmmaking.
We’re all interested in it from some angle, but there’s notroom for each other. There’s no part for me in Sting’s film,
and for me to make a movie… well …
“Sting gets 10 offers a week, and I could never afford him
anyway. Besides, my idea of the medium is different. I’d liketo direct Star Wars. The thing is, I won’t know if I’m any goodat it for years; there are a lot of techniques to be learnt.
Knowing how to express yourself in any medium is whatbeing an artist with an ‘e’ at the end is all about. I do have an‘e’ there, just a small one.”
And one extra scheme bobs along in the surf. In August theband went to Canada to put together tapes for a double live
album recorded around the world over the last two years.
Officially it’s finished, but it may yet have an ’81 appendix of
Ghost In The Machine material.
You might also count the projected arrival of Sting’s
second child, an event he’s vowed to attend. “I was gigging
for the last one and I still haven’t been forgiven, even though
it did pay the rent that week.”
But the disparity of exterior intention doesn’t have a simile
within the music. Though Sting is most often quoted about
the lyrics’ political tone, it’s not a unilateral declaration.
Andy Summers: “Stewart and I will listen to the lyrics andendorse them before they go on the album to see if they
make sense to our lives. We’ve been round the world two or three times
talking to each other, and if Sting’s going to write something, we knowwhat he’s talking about.”
Sting: “Some lyrics are really banal, just a signature; others are very
important. I’m getting better at writing songs of objectivity. Originallythey were very subjective, about an individual – alienation, feeling lonely,
depressed, love affairs. I think the development has come about throughtravelling and I’m getting better at writing about the world. I’ve stopped
caring about me.”Stewart Copeland: “My interpretations of the lyrics are my own and thevalue of the lyrics to me is of many interpretations. People who play music
often have this form of expression thrust upon them. I happen to behighly opinionated, but whenever you go into details my opinions are
only operable to my perspective, and for that purpose I distrust that form.
It’s why the songs are kinda vague, umbrella-like.”
And so, bring on the night.
Darryl, David and Martin heed for sleep since their US flight leaves
around nine the next morning. The promoters hand the band thank-you
mementoes – wallets. “You don’t think they’re trying to make a point, doyou?” whispers the chap Summers, who
not wishing to see me left out earnestly
passes a small package across the table.
“I want you to have this.”It’s a chocolate. Thanks, Andy; I’ll keep ittill it goes mouldy.
Sting had already got his parting shot in.
With an even more alarming 5.30am callin prospect, he took the early elevator tobed. “I used to have a beard like that,” henods at my chin. “I grew out of it though.”Oh, yeah: funny thing, I had my hair cut
the other day and the girl with the scissors
asked if I was trying to look like Sting.
“No, mate. Not good-looking enough,”he shoots as the lift doors close on amillion-pound, 30-year-old smile.
One all. Paul Colbert •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 119

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER�January, 1981: Dead
Kennedys frontman
Jello Biafra and guitarist
East Bay Ray at a club in
Sacramento, California

120 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981»

“I’m all for cultural terrorism,” says
Jello Biafra of the DEAD KENNEDYS, theUS punk band cutting a swathe throughthe UK. “We’re trying to create change
through art rather than physicalviolence. If something needs to be said,
we’re not going to shirk from it.”F

— NME OCTOBER 17 —ilms like Diary Of a Nymphomaniac andSwedish Virgins take a backseat tonight as
Birmingham’s imperial cinema plays host towhat the gutter press, city fathers and the mecca
Organisation would have you believe is a whole
lot more harmful and perverted than fifth-rateskin flicks.
laydeez and Gentleman, your attention please – they’ve beenscorned in san Francisco, treated like lepers in lA, dreaded in
Dundee. let me hear it for the loudest, the brashest, the cleverestand the funniest punk band in captivity. i give you the Deadkennedys!!
For the first few songs Biafra’s mighty voice carries the group andtheir absurdly knuckle-bound sound – mesmeric gutsy guitar,punched bass rivets and crude slamming drums – right into theheart of the crowd. Then, just when it seemed like nothing could
stop the Dead kennedys’ crazy psycho-drama from reaching its
high-pressure peak they hit overload and, bang, east Bay Ray’s
guitar amp gives up for the fifth and last time on their whistle-stop
British tour. The next 15 minutes see the stage filled with squattersrather than invaders, mostly drunken berks and publicity seekers
with nothing to offer except apathy, indolence and ignorance.
Biafra handles the hecklers with tact and a brave cutting edge.
“look at this lazy sod,” he says, indicating a rotund idiot who’s
deposited himself at his feet, “he sits on the middle of the stage andpasses out as if he was at a Pink Floyd concert.”
There’s a lot of idiots trying to grab his microphone. Jello gives as
good as he gets: “it’s funny how everybody wants anarchy, but theyalso want to rule at the same time,” he smirks meaningfully. »larry hulst / gettykÒWe enjoy
annoying
peopleÓHISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 121

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER

Eventually the amplifier is replaced and the stage cleared after the group
has treated the audience to a minimalist (bass, drums and vocals) versionof the epileptically mimed narcotic satire “Drug Me”. The songs are half
old and half new, not the sort of thing I’d want to listen to every day, but“Landlord”, “Too Drunk To Fuck” and “Holiday In Cambodia” are classicsof their kind, and new songs like the commendably straightforward “NaziPunks – Fuck Off” and “I Am The Owl” are right up there with them.
What sets the Kennedys apart from other punk bands is the intelligenceof their songs, which, while never losing sight of a basic punk motto – think
fast, react – are crafted to go beyond the obvious, gobbling up facts andattitudes to see things through to their logical, often macabre conclusion.
“In the States there’s a lot more of what is called ‘slam, dance and crash’
from stage invaders. They get up on stage and quickly dive off, rather thanjust sitting there like a bunch of bozos. You do get a bunch who try to jumpon other people when they aren’t looking, but generally it’s a lot of fun.”Biafra is togged out in his winter wear, happily exchanging news andviews with a collection of fans, some of whom have been following thegroup for the past three evenings, sleeping in the bus stations and eating
very little to keep expenses low. Everyone is on their way to the second gig
of the evening, across to the city-centre Cedar Club where Discharge areplaying. Biafra is an avid record collector and right now he’s overawed by
the outpourings of numerous US and British third-wave punk bands.
On the one hand he’s just released Let Them Eat Jellybeans, acompilation of groups that would otherwise never be heard of outside
their home town, on the Dead Kennedys’ own Alternative Tentacles label,and on the other… well, there he is right at the front of the stage for the
Discharge performance, pushing, pogoing and grappling with the best ofthem as the angry cleansing spirit of Discharge fires through their minimeisterwerk “Does This System Work?”.

J

EllO BIafra – no one could ever pronounce his real name, so
he changed it – moved to San Francisco from Colorado about
five years ago. Before forming the Dead Kennedys he’d been an
insurance salesman, an actor and a journalist. The latter he did forenjoyment, and I imagine he was very good at it. He gave it up because“it became a bit too much like school. I ended up doing all my copy thenight before the deadline.” Since joining the Dead Kennedys he has
made a marked impression in an election for the mayor of San
Francisco, part of his manifesto being that all businessmen would bemade to wear clown suits. He’s also had his group banned from all thepredictable places. That’s undoubtedly because in the great big worldof American rock ’n’ youth culture (not so much of the great) the crazy,jabbering, mad-eyed anger of Jello Biafra is something to be thankful
for amid the witless bluster of the Ramones, Springsteen, Blondie et al.
The Dead Kennedys are one of the few American groups that give anyclue towards the mass disaffection which the young people of thecountry must be feeling in thewake of Reagan’s war-mongering.
The group aren’t afraid to attack
idiocy in their own ranks either;with the superb, subtle-as-a-flyingmallet rant “Nazi Punks…” they
shame many of their English
counterparts. In view of recent
events, aren’t they wary aboutplaying the song in Britain?
“No, not at all. If somethingneeds to be said, we’re not goingto shirk from it.”Do you get Nazi rabble in yourgigs in the USA?
“Many of them don’t know what
it means. They just think swastikas
shock their parents because
they’ve been brought up by
a bunch of right-wing assholes
who’ve told them that it’s cool to
be a racist. We figure that if they’regoing to be punks and listen to
punk music then they might as wellreally listen to it and understand it
and realise that it’s not just a bunchof racist crap.”
122 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

“What about Oi, though? That’s racist, isn’t it?” asks a fan from London.
“Some of it is and some of it isn’t. I haven’t seen an Oi gig over here and I
haven’t met any of the bands. On the Oi! album I liked Peter And The Test
Tube Babies and Garry Johnson because they seemed to be bringing otherinfluences into play besides HM punk. I think we’re probably closer in
our thinking and where we’re coming from to Crass, and maybe even
Discharge, than we are to the so-called Oi bands. We are not afraid, nor
are we ashamed of being political. Even ‘Too Drunk To Fuck’ turns intoa political song because of all the self-proclaimed moralists and churchgroups who tried to get the song banned over here. Incidentally they gave us
free publicity and our first hit single, which I thought was funnier than hell.”“Too Drunk To Fuck” is the Dead Kennedys’ only single release thisyear, along with “Bleed For Me” on Urgh! A Music War and “Nazi Punks…”– their contribution to the Jellybeans compilation, the only new musicfrom them this year. It’s perhaps the most powerful record they’ve made,a special mix of Molotov guitar cocktail and sterling production which
certainly sees off the most celebrated moments of the Stooges. It is alsoa very funny record.
Biafra smiles slyly from behind the brim of his pint glass.
“Far from being offensive, I think it was an educational song. It’s exactly
the sort of thing that your mammy or Sunday school won’t tell you about.
I think the people banning the record are the people that it’s happening to.
“What I find really funny is how we can distress people who haven’t
even met us. One of the things that keeps us going is that we’re reallyantisocial people, and though we do have big audiences here and we’reconsidered mainstream, we do enjoy annoying people, getting under
their skin and forcing them to think.”

T

HE NEXT DEaD Kennedys release is an eight track “anti-church”
EP (as yet untitled), which will provide the link between theirrushed and mis-produced first album and their second album
and will continue the psychedelic strain of “Holidays In Cambodia”.
“America has all these right-wing church groups at the minute that put
Reagan in office. They’re called the Moral Majority and they’re run by
Jerry Falwell, who’s a television evangelist who rakes in 50 million dollars
a year. He’s going political at the same time and he’s got his hooks into
Reagan and all these conservative money organisations who run ads
against liberal politicians all over the country. When George McGovern
was running against Nixon they put posters saying George McGovern isa baby-killer because he was for legalised abortion.
“This is the way the MM thinks. They aren’t nearly a majority nor are
they in any way moral, but they are a force that must be crushed. They’reas scary in our country as the NF is in yours; probably more so because
it is all older people who have put their money behind it. Insurancecompanies have put money into it because if women don’t get equal
rights then they don’t have to pay them full premiums. This is what hashelped create what is known as
The New Right.
“The Moral Majority want toforce Christian prayer in school,bring a police state into play, withunlimited surveillance by the FBI
and the re-introduction of thetreason laws, meaning guess who’dbe the first to go? They want tomake abortions illegal, so thatyou’d have to go to Mexico withrusty knives in the basement to get
rid of unwanted children.
“We have a song on our EP called‘Moral Majority’, but we played in
Glasgow and no one understood it.
It’s something that people have towatch, because I’ve never seen a‘Christian’ Bible-toting religious
cult turn so blatantly fascist in
America. They don’t use swastikas;
they use crosses and Bibles, so thata lot of people haven’t caught on tothem yet.”
Just like the ‘Reverend’ Ian
Paisley, Jello and guitar player East
Bay Ray were recently ordained atdead kennedys

a college in America where they more or less sell thecertificates over a counter. The good thing about thisis that as men of the cloth they can’t be considered
for drafting. While Biafra’s interest in politics far
outweighs his interest in religion, the former
stretching back to when he was about five years
old and began passing up on the cartoons so hecould watch the news, he has flirted with certain
spiritual phenomena.
“When I was in drama school I had some really
good instructors and directors who thoughtnothing of giving kids parts that were difficultfor Broadway adults. I had mostly ‘method’
directors, where you build the character fromwithin and find out what makes them tick,rather than a ‘technique’ director who makes
you take so many steps, breathe, step back andspeak, etc. I don’t relate to that at all.
“Method acting comes into play with our
performance and sometimes it really sinks in and we’re totally demonicand possessed, like our Liverpool show this time. In the ‘ha ha to Adam
Ant’ department, I went to a Sioux war-dance where there are definite
forces going on that are not scientifically explained. I couldn’t put myfinger on what it was exactly, but it was definitely a very uplifting
experience for me.
“I also do relaxations that I learned in theatre classes and try to apply
them to medicine and to get rid of colds. I got rid of a knee injury thatway which I got diving off stage and going kneecap first into a monitor.
It’s something I’ve barely touched on, but I’m keen to explore whentime permits.”

I’m all for cultural terrorism, trying to create change
through art rather than physical violence.”
This “art” you talk of, is it misunderstood?
“People who don’t want to use art as a weapon
aren’t artists at all. You’ve got to want to inflict
something on someone, be it positive or
negative. Rather than just trying to entertain,
to please and to sell. In no way is that art.”
Biafra eschews all form of drugs, mainly
because he’s seen so many musicians throw
away their talent on stimulants.
“As a music fan, that bugs me a lot.
Coincidentally or not, one thing I’ve noticed
since Reagan came to power is that there’s a lot
more speed and a lot more heroin and a lot moreof everything dangerous available and being
fed to the punks. In the suburbs there’s
suddenly all these people taking acid; I think it
is totally planned in order to torpedo anotheryouth cult before it starts, just like acid and pot torpedoed the hippies
before they could overthrow Nixon.”
Of course there are far more subtle and widespread ways of controllingand influencing youth so that they become fodder for the state’s
insatiable cravings.
“It only dawned on me about a year ago that everyone I know had a real
bitch for a second grade teacher. I think that’s the year they try and breakyour spirit and make you conform and learn the rules to obey rather thanways to create. I think the fact that they emphasise planning andde-emphasise creativity explains not only why idiots who go through art
school adding crudeness to childishness get labelled as geniuses but also
why they’ve managed to produce a race of idiots. The American school
system is a very vicious instrument of corporate control.”“You’ve got towant to inflict
something on
someone”

B

EING ON THE road with the Dead Kennedys is an amicableenough proposition. The other members might not say much,
but they are accommodating and keen-eyed observers. Threeof the group wear Clark Kent glasses offstage – guitar players East Bay
Ray and Micro Wave along with Klaus Flouride, who looks like ayounger, healthier Elvis Costello. The band’s latest recruit is drummer
Darren, who comes from Chicago and previously played with The
Aliens, backing band to famous acid casualty Roky Erickson, andDarren still keeps his “arm in” playing with The Speedboys, a local San
Francisco group, when the Dead Kennedys aren’t in action. The groupemphasise the fact that they are all reclusive and separate charactersand it’s a fusion of all their outside interests which brings about theDead Kennedys’ ravaged vision of America.
In addition to Darren’s drumming outside the band, East Bay Ray
produces a couple of local bands and experiments with synthesizers. He’sa big fan of various German electronic musicians and is on the lookout fora suitable synth player for the Kennedys.
Biafra runs the American end of Alternative Tentacles’ operations and alocal radio show, while coy Klaus (he won’t tell his age) keeps a travelogueof tapes from each town the group visit for an as-yet-unrevealed purpose.
He has his own very strong views on the Dead Kennedys, as I found out
when I asked if they were out to shock their listeners.
Klaus: “We don’t want to shock people for the sake of shocking people.
We’re not like the Plasmatics; we want to shock people into thinking. The
Dead Kennedys are not here to cash in on the Kennedys’ name or to cause
them more grief – they’ve had enough grief already. What the namerepresents is the downfall of the idea that everything is getting bigger
and better. You just have to look at the difference between people like
Eisenhower and Haig; Eisenhower was genuinely elected president andhis last statement to the public was, ‘Beware of the military industrial
complex.’ Haig will ask people to embrace it.”
The last time an American musician was asked for a reaction to theshooting of President Reagan in these pages, he claimed to have been intears on hearing the news. So was Jello Biafra, though for different reasons.
“I was staying with friends in Orange County and I’d just fallen asleep
when there was a banging on the door and someone was shouting,‘Biafra, Biafra, get up, Reagan has just got shot.’ My initial reaction was,‘Let me sleep’, but eventually I got up and we sat in front of the TV andlaughed like it was a Marx Brothers movie.”
Do you support terrorism?
“People who don’t want to obey an army sergeant and just want to have
fun with guns are no better than anyone else, much worse probably. But

J

EllO BIafra may sound like one of life’s great paranoids –maybe he just sees things as they are and ploughs on regardless.
There can be no doubting the validity and good sense of the
Dead Kennedys as a subversive thorn in the flesh to both American
society and its behemoth-fuelled rock industry. They aren’t strangled
by guilt complexes, but their accomplished comic-stripped, razoredged dynamics make no secret of past crimes.
Above all else they say: GET UP, DON’T BE STUPID. THINK FOR
YOURSELF.
“‘I Am The Owl’ is about Watergate criminals who come out of
retirement. It’s sort of a composite of several dirty tricks that have gone onover the years, by the FBI and the CIA. There’s a line about LSD – it’s about
this guy who was the leader of a gang of semi-thugs. They fed him full ofacid and let him loose on a freeway, where he just wandered around until
he was knocked down. They tried to hush up and pretend it was a great
mystery, but a friend of mine has a father in the police and we got to hear
about how they sat around drinking after hours, congratulating eachother on getting rid of this local annoyance.”“‘Keyhole Factory’ is about this chemical factory owned by Allied
Chemicals in Virginia and how they’ve manufactured toxic chemical
spray and dumped the waste in Chesapeake Bay, which is now closed
to fishing. The people who worked there were given no masks, so theybreathed all this shit into their lungs and started to get double vision,
become impotent and get all gnarled and spastic. The company offeredthem all spectacular Hot Rod cars if they didn’t say anything, but by thattime everyone was too gnarled and spastic to even drive.”
Aren’t there lobbies and outrages about this sort of thing?
“There are lobbies against it, but the lobbies of the chemical industries
are much stronger because they have much more money. The US
government is pushed around by lobbying groups on the far right.”
In the Weimar Republic a lot of big companies financed Hitler’s rise topower and a lot of them are still very successful today.
“Something that’s very scary is that General Motors sued the American
government after World War II for bombing some of their factories in Nazi
Germany which had been kept open during the war. And they won.”Don’t you think it’s ultimately futile straining against the power andcut-throat tactics of these bodies?
“It takes time. I just hope , unlike the ’60s – where people made a definite
dent and then gave up, turning out to be almost as conservative as theirparents – that everyone keeps pushing this time.” Gavin Martin •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 123

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBERThe Human League:
showing up thepathetic farce ofpop mythology

ALBUMSrex features

The Human League Dare VIRGIN
The story reads so ironically…
remember that “band” fromsunny Sheffield, stuffed with
self-esteem but starved ofsuccess, scrabbling aroundwith desperate gimmicks likecomplete anonymity?
Remember those slide shows,that wizard-jape-that-never-was
when machines were supposed
to hold the stage while the“band” (sometimes) deigned tojoin the audience? Remember
how no promoter in the land
wanted to know?
Remember the split – theso-called theory, talent and tasteof the “band” all going Heavenwards while the turkeys and tarts
were left to tour the name, pickup the tabs on a ruined careerand (surprise, surprise) turf out/tear up the charts?
One fringe, two girls and theworld’s at their feet. ’81 Human
League are the weird reverse of
their techno-dream roots; theylook (even sound) like theultimate front personality over
performance, style oversubstance – one big bold boast.
No more messing – The
Human League.
And Dare is no bluff, more ahide-and-seek game of malleable
manifestos and hollow (self-)
claims. A tease… and why not?
124 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

Dare unashamedly
flaunts the age-old
notion of the followup, the formula,fame… magnificently
mocking the idea ofprogression-asachievement.
Listen, you got“Love Action” – that’s
your lot. Dare isalmost a parody – thesecond-best track,“Seconds”, is “LA” inreverse. Polished,perfectly imprecise,it finds The Human
League flush,(artistically) finishedbut the show must go
on. All let’s-pretendpompous, it’s cornily
consistent, cultured,
crude, elegant,cheap… anything you
want it to be.
Me? I think it’s amasterpiece. Sure to
upset some, sell tomillions more and so
it should the way it
tramps all overrock traditions.
A trite sound, a
ALBUMS
retarded glam
What a subversive
image and astand from amock respect.
synthetic sham!
All the appeal
Pioneers,in the world.
potential… be
1981
The songs,
damned! No one,
if you must
but no one, sinceknow, are like the
The Monkees, thenBanshees, Orange Juice,
the Pistols, has been thislatter-day Skids – the only ones
conventionally “bad” and sothat commit unabashedgloriously gotten away with it.
megalomania to vinyl and soundNon-musicians, a non-singer,
just how you’d expect them totacky performers, a Crossroads
sound (fabulous fence-sittersmentality (Phil’s divorce in thesaying sod all in authoritative
dailies!), appallingly crasstones). The slow ones (“I Am The
lyricists, ponderous melodies
Law”) are boring; the fast ones
(with the odd flash of flair) but –(“Do Or Die”) are fun.
the crux – one magnificent single.
Dare should show up the
So “The Sound Of The Crowd”
pathetic farce of pop mythology(included here) was the clue –once and for all.
the politics of fashion set to a
The Human League (bless ’em!)
metronome beat and bleating
are letting us down, I’m loving itback vocals – but “Hard Times”/
and they’re presumably“Love Action” (the 12-inch,of course) was
sublime. (Oneof) the greatest
singles evermade. No bull!
No accident:
calculatedly
bland andDARE
bouncy, it stillgets me up-andat-’em at two in
the morningwhen (would be)funkier things
leave me dead in
the bar. And

REVIE
W

(hopefully) laughing fit to split up
next week. The “band” are, atlast, the most terrific trash; Dareis one deliciously, definitively
daft album and “Love Action”
remains a gem in a void.
Phil Oakey inspires one thoughtthese days: no more heroes.
Thanks to Dare I can honestly say
my badge-wearing days are welland truly over? And listen; you’ve
no idea how happy that makes me
feel. Steve Sutherland, MM Oct 17

Joy Division Still FACTORY
It shouldn’t have happened, but
as it did let’s take consolation in
the fact that Ian Curtis’ death on
May 18, 1980 didn’t so much bring
Joy Division’s journey to theheart of darkness to an abrupt
halt as freeze it for all eternity atthe brink of discovery. At least we
can still travel that far with them,and though they of all groups had
positioned themselves well fora final breakthrough, who knows
if they’d have been able to copeon the other side?
As it stands, their quest remains
just that, its purity unspoilt byrepetition, bad moves or false
conclusions, and as a pointer it isnone the less valuable today. Joy
Division’s progress from theblind thrashing of the prototype
Warsaw towards the closenessof their second and last LP
proper, Closer, was astonishingly
fast. Best of all, it was founded
in a courageous analysis of
their own condition, which ispresented on Still as a struggle
towards a new, more complete
consciousness far removed fromthe generalised and unhelpful
street squabbling of the punkthat spawned it.
Instead of moaning about themess they were in, Joy Division
confronted it head-on anddiscovered the causes of thecurrent depression to be deeply
rooted in spiritual rather thanmaterial impoverishment.
They registered a profoundestrangement from the ugly
environment they were living
in and shock at thecallousness of the age
they were living through.
Yet recognition wasn’t
enough, especially as
they were perversely
fascinated by that which
repelled them. Theirmusic’s tension often
emanated from theirapproximating thecharacteristics of thevery things they foundoppressive, either inundeniably attractive
abstractions of

LEAGUEHaircut 100:
frenetic funkwith touches ofsalsa and rap

vision — their grasping after
the unattainable and theinevitable disillusionmentthat would come withrealisation of the futilityof the quest.
At their formative, Joy
Division were more literaland less incisive, relying on
their favourite authors for ideas.
“The Kill”, for instance, was asclose a summary as you could
get in two or so minutes of
Dostoyevsky’s Crime And
Punishment, though it was
rescued by the persuasive
see-saw rhythm.
Joy Division never resorted
to faking emotions. Theirconcerts seemed to be purgative
experiences, especially for
Curtis, who found release inintense, brief bursts of butterfly
movement. To watch him was likewitnessing the last just man
accepting the sins of the world as
his personal burden. His voice
would often strain and crack, andat the Birmingham concert it
sometimes got lost altogether inthe shoddy mix. Nevertheless,the two live sides work as apatchy retrospective, despite
the fact the synths went horribly
awry on most of the Closer
material. It’s highlighted by“New Dawn Fades” for obvious
reasons: “Different colours/
Different shades/Over each/
Mistakes were made/I took theblame/Directionless/It’s plain tosee /A loaded gun/Won’t set you
free/So they say.”Bearing in mind how quickly
an audience grows accustomed
to emotional shocks to its
ordered system, expressing
such naked feelings must have
got harder every time. But Joy
Division presented them withthat hardest thing to swallow:
reality. Theirs was all the moreindigestible as it juggled
together the commonplacewith the taboo, brutality with
sensuality and stark horror withsimple, appealing melody.
Joy Division might not haveequated making themselves
felt with hurting the listenera little, but they never sparedthemselves in their pursuit ofexperience and truth. You canfeel it still. Chris Bohn, NME Oct 17

SINGLES

W
E
I
V
E
R
1981

SINGLESHaircut 100
Favourite Shirts (Boy Meets Girl)
ARISTA

True confessions. Live, I
thought they sounded too
much like Talking Heads circa
Fear Of Music; isolated on thissingle, they’re magnificent.
Incorporating touches of salsa
and rap into one gloriously
cohesive whole, the Haircuts
deliver a dancefloor beauty of
furious frenetic funk belied by
the singer’s innocent vocals.
There’s some great hornwork around the middle,
followed by a steamy sax solo.
Christ, it even translates on
the radio, and you know that
can’t be bad. Just anotherexample of how rock’s main
centre has been totally
destroyed, leaving space foreverything to come through.
Which is why this will makethe Old Guard throw up theirhands in despair, while thecool listener will head for thedancefloor where boy always
meets girl.
And excuse me. But can I havethe next dance? What did you
say your name was? Oh, do youlive round here? MM Oct 10

and shove it down our necks
every hour and lo and behold…
a hit single. Actually, it does
have a certain charm. But insuch hard times charm isnever enough. MM Oct 10

U2 Gloria ISLAND

Always aiming to be different,
U2 are fast becoming masters
at creating classic pop
material. Still gloriously epic,
U2 divide opinion faster that
Steve Ovett can run.
Personally, I can’t resist them.
I can’t resist Bono’s incrediblyrich voice. I can’t resist The
Edge’s unique guitar. And I
can’t resist the way in which
their music constantly aims forthe emotional heights, pushed
along by Adam’s heartbeatbass and Larry’s subtle drums.
“Gloria”, however, differs
a lot from old material. Not
particularly musically, butmore in tone and mood.
The main riff and intro is aswashbuckling affair, creating
a pure rush of excitement as
Laurie Anderson
Bono’s choirboy voice collides
O Superman ONE TEN
with The Edge’s slightly
psychedelic guitar.
About to be picked up by WEA
But without warning thefor major distribution, thissong suddenly hits a weird
sickly little record is apparently
patch of stray pianos andin great demand. I can’t
guitars, gagged bass andimagine why. Unbearably coy,
drums, before heading off into
Miss Anderson discovers
its wonderful finale. A lot
studio effects and breathes out
darker than before – we’rean eight-minute little ditty toabout to see a new side to U2.
Superman through her phone
Drummer Larry thinks it
answering machine. All
0 '.
.
will divide their fansit will take is one of
�.....e......r..
sharply. I know
those wimpy
GLORIA
which side I’mlittle jockeys
voting for.
to pick up on
U2
this record
MM Oct 10
HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 125

dave hogan / getty

cityscapes or insuperbly drilled
militaristic marches.
Unlike the dumb
futurists, past andpresent, they neither
embraced nor
glorified the speedof modern life, but
presented it as a
symptom of their malaise. The
better and more experienced
they got, their contrast ofugliness and beauty became
more a sophisticated blend,
which accurately encompassed
Joy Division’s confusion with thehorror occurring all around them.
Just as they refused to
disguise the ambivalence for
expediency’s sake, they wouldn’t
shy away from pain either. On thecontrary, they seemed to view
exposing themselves to pain asone (personal) way of breaking
the aura of insensitivity,
suggesting that throughbrutality or self-abasement theymight achieve those elusive
moments of true feeling. Not fornothing did they encore with The
Velvet Underground’s “Sister
Ray” (“You should hear our
version of ‘Louie Louie’. Wow,”
deadpanned Curtis).
Joy Division realised they wereplaying a dangerous game, but
obviously they felt it a necessary
one or why else would Curtis
have sung such revealing andimmensely moving lines as:“I’ll walk you through thehard breaks/Show you all theouttakes/I can see it getting
higher/Systematically degraded/
Emotionally a scapegoat/I cansee it getting better”, and the
ecstatic affirmation: “LOVE!
LIFE! Makes you feel! Higher.
Higher. Higher! HIGHER!”
The song — “The Sound Of
Music” — is one of the previously
unreleased nuggets that make
Still so essential. While Curtis
seemed to be singing as much toconvince himself as the listener,
the group composed a matching
disturbed accompaniment built
on a brooding rhythm, aroundwhich guitarist Albrecht neatly
tacked notes accumulating in
intensity to match the swelling
passion of the voice.
At their best, Joy Divisionwere awesome, frightening andbeautiful — never more so thanon “Dead Souls”, made widely
available here for the first time.
“Dead Souls” featured Joy
Division at their most majestic
and metallic, it encompassed
their virtues of discipline andself-control, and somehow
embodied the tragedy of their

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER“We try an’’ave a laugh”

Michael Putland / GettY

But being MADNESS is
not without its problems.
Now movie stars, they’re
still prisoners of public
expectation, worldwide.
“You feel like a puppet. And
you’re not a puppet, you’rea musician” says Woody.

126 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

Madness shoot the coverfor their third album, 7, in
London, 1981: (l–r) Lee
Thompson, Mark Bedford,
Chas Smash, Mike Barson,
Suggs, Chris Foreman,
Daniel “Woody” Woodgate

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 127

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER— MELODY MAKER OCTOBER 10 —NE: ThE coNcErNEd campaigner in the neatly
creased suit cottoned on quick that these chaps –the kilts, the crew cuts, the cases – must be celebs.
Kitchen staff and kiosk attendants converged andchattered over signed paper napkins – extraordinary
animation from a species hitherto deemed devoid of
all human response. The bar had been opened especially, the private
planes were fuelling… a VIP buzz.
He approached, cautiously at first, then more boldly with the gait ofa man with right on his side and – just in case – a fresh-faced snapper
before him.
“Excuse me, I’m from the local press, petitioning signatures for blahde blah de blah.” Polite, if strained, compliance. Slow recognition on
his part…
“Er… before you go, would you, um, do something nutty for myphotographer?” Seven scowls, a mock-up scuffle, Lee darts forward andthe intruder exits, chuffed with success.
As the automatic doors glide shut behind him, I just spot the sticker,
there, undetected, smack between his shoulder blades for all the world tosee. No one, but no one, messes with the Maddy boys.

O

Wo: MadNEss arE in a Belgian TV studio – a two-day breachin pre-tour rehearsal – to promote their new single/album/film
and accept awards for past achievements.
Carl Smyth (Chas Smash to you) is dressed in armour, brandishing asword and charging a miserable stuffed tiger with frightened glass eyes
and a tacky old tail. Lee (Mr Sax) is beating pots full of bamboo bushes
with the butt of a rifle. Woody (Mr Skin) is togged out like the Artful
Dodger hitting on a large cigar.
Bedders (Mr Bass) is collecting sink-plungers into a Habitat bag. Suggs(“seven-foot-four blond Apollo”) is flat on his back toking fags andchanting: “Om!” Chris (“King Of The Sydney Mods”) is bellowing mild
obscenities down a megaphone and chalking gross inanities on a snazzy
revolving blackboard.
Meanwhile, oblivious to all, bespectacled, besuited Barso (ivory-tickler
and flash bastard) is deep in page 12 of his paperback novel.
Suddenly the cry goes up: “Bring On The Wimpy Walker!”
Photographer Tom “The Chief”
Sheehan, obliging withshamefully little encouragement
for a man of his age, staggers
before the cameras in a rerunof last night’s dancefloor
triumph, attempting something
painfully reminiscent of abalding bell-dancer doing a
vertical backstroke. He promptly
pulls a muscle.
The presenter, a two-legged
powder-puff with vaselined hair,looks suitably terrified as 10
minutes of “freeform nuttiness”
had just put paid to his factfinding interview. The Belgian
producer’s lapping it up, loving
every minute.
Cut. The boys stop dead andsilently knock off for lunch.

T

hrEE: hEy Woody!
I reckon the new album’s
the heaviest thing you’ve
ever done. Is it gonna harm
your… um… nutty image?
“It’s got to, ’cos it’s tiring me out.
Every time we go to Europe it’s
Nutty… You put on your ska
suits… yes?”
D’you regret you ever
manufactured the idea in thefirst place?

T

128 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

“No, not at all. We ’ad a great sense of naivety in the early days of what
the music business and the world in general was all about, and on stage it
didn’t matter. It was exciting for us all to get up and enjoy the music witheveryone dancing their bollocks off and ’avin’ a good time. That’s what
‘Nutty’ was all about….
“Now we’ve just done a really good classic example of nuttiness – allthese interviews. We just act stupid and take the piss out of people
because it’s so ridiculous – the whole pose and smile and look this way
and do this and do that. You feel like a puppet. And you’re not a puppet,
you’re a musician.”
But the more you do it, the more you encourage it:“Well, we’ve gotta live, we’ve gotta earn money and we’re in the
rock’n’roll business.”
Did you ever dream it would turn out like this?
“No way. Never ever. But I’m beginning to realise the more money you
get, the more you have to sacrifice yourself. None of this band likes to be
trapped at all – we’re all quite rebellious – that’s why I think we act nutty –it’s just a way out of it really.”
Do you feel trapped, then?
“Not recently – no. I mean, in the early days I thought it was the thing todo, like ’ave the image, wear the clothes and say what I was supposed tosay, but I discovered after a while that I was only lying to myself and to theband as well, although the media loved it.
“I thought if I turned up the way I wanted to look, the band would say,‘Oi! You scruffy-lookin’ twit – wear this! Wear that!’ But they didn’t. They
respect people for being themselves.
“We’re all individuals at heart. It’s only the music that keeps us together
really – I mean there are obviously friendships, but it just shows that you
can’t put a label on us. That’s why we decided on ‘Nutty’ ourselves; we put
ourselves in it, really, by calling our music ‘The Nutty Sound’, ’cos we
couldn’t stand people saying, ‘Are you a ska band or are you a rock’n’rollband or are you a jazz band…?’”
oUr: MadNEss sTorM Amsterdam in extraordinary style –tams, kilts and Doc Martens. The dope dealers don’t know what to
make of it, but the boys in the gay bar are more than delighted. We
should be in Brussels right now, but threat of an out-and-out mutiny
secured a night off in Europe’s sin city.
Monday, though. The lucky seven luck out. The Paradiso’s closed, The
Milky Way (“The club you can
sup between bars without
ruining your appetite…” –Tom
Sheehan) is shut – no action.
Bedders is worried his mum
would kill him if she could see theclub he’s about to enter.
Chrissie Boy tries to deposit
me in the path of a speedingtram; we eventually gethorrendously drunk, haila cab and head hotel-wards tobed – a disappointment.
Chas: “You fly, you’ve ’ad somecrap on the plane and all you
wanna do is ’ave a look round,
send a few postcards ’ome… but
you get pushed into a studio andsomeone says, “Eeer, de nutty
skanks, nutty dis, zany, zany,
nutty, great!” and you think,‘Fuckin’ hell, can’t wait to get’ome.’ Know what I mean?”Barso: “They don’t ’ave a clue
what it’s all about.”
Chas: “It’s beyond a joke,
because when you’re abroad
people don’t actually know what
STARRING
you’re doing. To me, Madness in
London is MADNESS madness.
There’s loads of ways of madness,right? But to them it’s just a laughand a giggle, but that ain’t what
it’s all about…”

F

MADNESSIlimadness

IVE: ThE INTErVIEWEr looks
nervous. Virginia or Vanessa or
someone from Radio Veronica has
met this lot before. Here, in the empty
cinema, five rows from the front aftera farcical platinum disc presentation(“Do we have to look surprised?”), shetries to eke a little sense out a desperately
stupid situation.
“Vot ees your f…” The script disappears
from her hand and reappears two rows
down and travelling furiously. “Vot!…”
She shrieks as something grabs her ankle
and tickles her ear simultaneously.
“Vot,” she composes herself, “is yourfeeling about?”“It’s about ’ow we started… it’s about ’ow westarted… it’s about ’ow we started…”
One voice builds to seven, to a chant, to a roar,to the premature end of the interview.
“Great,” grins the cameraman. “Cut.”Take It Or Leave It is about how Madness
started. Each band member invested“something like a thousand quid”, Stiff
met the other half of the bill, and they madethe movie.
Why?
Chris: “’Cos it’s better than ’avin a Rolls,
innit?”
Suggs: “Well, we ’ad two albums of music from the early days but
nothing recorded visually, and it was important to us. The visual side ofMadness was important to our success, to the position we stand in now.
One of the reasons we did it was because no one else had done it. Mostrock films are about how you’re on the road, y’know, and it’s all success,success, success…”
Bedders: “We just decided to show people what it was like before we got
any records out at all. Actually, I think if you look at the movie, at the very
beginning when the band started up and hardly any of us knew eachother, you’ll find it will reflect the most recent album now.”
Exactly – a distinct drop in nuttiness in favour of what? Social
conscience? Realism? Honesty?
Bedders: “Honesty. It’s very honest. I think that’s the main thing about
the film…”
Woody: “It’s so true. When I first saw it – when it was just being put
together – I was really worried it would be the most boring film that wasever put on this planet – I couldn’t imagine anyone would wanna see it.
But it’s our lives…”
Bedders: “Yeah, it got to the stage where you started remembering what
it was like, started getting those feelings.”
Woody: “It really was an uncanny experience. I walked onto the set
where there was Mike, Chris – y’know, the real old band – and I felt
completely out of place. I felt as though I was a traveller from the future
coming into the past. It was really weird even saying hello to everyone…”
Suggs: “When you look back at things, they always seem better, so
obviously everything we did in the film I thought, ‘God, that was brilliant
in those days.’ But then you realise things change and that in five years
you’ll look back on this – a TV show in Holland, doing fuck all – and think,‘That was really good fun.’“Making the film, I realised we had a really good time, but it wasn’t
really all that great playing the Nashville and Dublin Castle [pub in
Camden Town] on the same night, or being scared by a load of skins at
Acklam Hall…”
Barso: “It’s a different thing, right? ’Cos when you’re startin’ out, it’s awhole different vibe about the group – you think you’re doing somethingright different, it’s you against…”
Chas: “When you’re starting out, you’re the bollocks, y’know, and you
do it, play it, prove it to people, show ’em what you can do.
“You’ve got the buzz, there’s no one else like you. But now it’s harder, thebuzz is different – you’ve done it for a couple of years.”
Suggs: “Word soon gets around, y’know. ‘Madness aren’t as interesting
as they were, they used to be nuttier and funnier.’”
Barso: “I used to get right sick about it, really worry about it. I used tothink, ‘We’re all washed up, we’re past it’, but I don’t really worry any

more – we’ve passed that point now.”
What keeps you going?
Chas: “’Cos we get on. I couldn’t stick itwith a band that was one person leading,
who had all the ideas, did all the writing,and you were just sort of like an image forhim. We do get on, and I don’t think there’s
many people I can get on with.”
Suggs: “…And we try an’ ’ave a laugh, I
think, on the whole…”

F

IX: WhIlE ThE cameraman loads
up another roll of film, Kelloggs –the band’s manager – grimaces,
embarrassed that his boys have to be put
through this degrading rigmarole. Just
then Chas appears from the costumedepartment dressed as GI Joe and launches
into a hilarious Jimmy Cagney routine.
Those who understand literally fall about
laughing; the rest just gape in awe and panic.
Madness is infectious and in their movie,
their new LP and their present attitude, they
display a heartening new maturity. That TakeIt Or Leave It and the new album are releasedroughly in tandem may be coincidental(except, of course, commercially), but bothtake great pains to perpetrate diversity andindividualism over strait-jacketed image.
Barso reckons the newie’s different “’cos everyone can play betternow”, and Suggs puts it down to more ideas kicking around and being
followed up.
Bedders claims: “There ain’t much funny goin’ on these days to write
about and I think everyone’s becoming more and more aware now
that maybe we have to comment on things. At the start we wanted tosteer clear of commenting on anything really, but I think now we’rebeing drawn into it more and the people in the band are getting
more opinionated.”
Whatever, Madness songs are suddenly the best about; bouncy,
unpretentious dance tunes set to “sneering” (Bedders) lyrics. “It’s like
Motown songs,” says Suggs. “They’re really happy but the lyrics are all‘Oi, you’re an only child, you’re an illegitimate…’”
An example of new Madness Motown is “Day On The Town”. Here’s how
it works:
Suggs: “When I wrote the lyrics to that I just wrote all about when you
bunk off school ’n’ that – the emptiness, y’know? The main objective ofthe day is to not pay the fare and anything else that ’appens is a bonus. You
get on buses; you go to Hyde Park, the West End…”
Chas: “And there’s fuck all there. You gotta pay to sit down – there’s noseats nowhere. You wanna sit down, you gotta go and buy a cuppa tea
somewhere. When you’re a kid, you just go down there and play the tube,
bunk buses… it’s depressing, the West End. Any city centre is just for
tourists and that’s what it’s all about.”
Suggs: “It was just meant to be empty, just memories of me goin’ round
Hyde Park and Oxford Street, gettin’ on buses, gettin’ off buses, walkin’
up and down, people nicking things, tourists… that’s it.”
Chas: “I mean, I bunked in to see The Sting five nights out of seven
down the Muswell ’ill Odeon ’cos we ’ad nothin’ else to do. If I wrote
a song about that it would be pretty borin’, because it was pretty borin’.
Really borin’.”Suggs: “We try and find a happy medium between everything, y’know.
Try not to be too banal and not just do it for the sake of the humour and notjust do it for the sake of the seriousness and not just do it for the sake of themoney and not just do it for the sake of trying to prove yourself.
“We do everything with a certain amount of good intention, a certain
amount of trying to make some money, and a certain amount of trying toenjoy it while we’re doin’ it.”Hey Suggs. Do something nutty for my photographer!
Answer unprintable.

“The buzz isdifferent now– you’ve done
it for a coupleof years ”

S

EVEN Is ThE name of the Madness album.
It is this year’s finest. BUY!

S

Steve Sutherland ¥HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 129

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER“You plan
your own
destiny”

ABC formed in 1980,
in opposition to“false philosophising,intellectual arguments,
fake tortured souls…”
Since then they’ve
made glamorous
appearances and agreat single, “Tears Are
Not Enough”. “I don’t
feel any pressure,”says Martin Fry. “We
know we’re good.”— MELODY MAKER NOVEMBER 31 —etting back to basics. abc are a five-piece pop
group from Sheffield about to change your life. or, atleast, try. they’ve played a dozen gigs so far, had hugepress coverage, signed a major record deal and justreleased a superb debut single, “tears are notenough”/ “alphabet Soup”.
the latter is a magical, whimsical, musical introduction to the band(“I hold in my hand three letters ABC”), its members (David Palmer –drums, Mark Lickley – bass, Martin Fry – vocals, Mark White – guitar,
Stephen Singleton – sax) and a whole new career idea.
Self-important. Self-possessed. Self-promoting. Self-esteem. Whatmakes them think they’re so special? “Mr golden throat” Fry spills
the fundamentals: “because we feel the need to employ care and do
things right.”
then why abc?
“Well, it’s international. basically, all european countries will
understand what abc means. it’s the first three letters in the alphabet– it’s clean, simple and it’s big and it’s bland and it’s a framework to put
everything into.
ideologically that’s fine, but…
“ok,” he whispers over beef stroganoff in the restaurant of his choice.
“When i say it’s open, i don’t mean that next week i’ll be wearing a
psychedelic Mood Six outfit and the week after that something in thekinda salsa swing mode. it’s the fact that it’s more effort to produce a
musical identity within that framework.
“it’s all there for you, it’s a blank slate. it’s not like calling yourself
anything, really. From the original point it’s just a nonentity and we’ve
got to make an entity from it.” »DaviD Corio / GETTY

G

0July 1, 1981: Martin
Fry fronts ABC at
new-romantic
hangout Legends
nightclub in London

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 131

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBERAt present ABC are little more than areputation. does that create pressure?
No, I don’t feel any pressure because we know
we’re good really; the publicity’s not something
we’ve engineered in some mystical sort of way.

“From thesublime to the
cor-blimey inthree-and-ahalf minutes”

But it’s not every day an unknown band starts
getting a front-cover exposure…
Yeah, I guess people are gonna be cynical –I can understand that. But I think when they
see us play live and have heard the record it will
sort of acquit us to some extent. I know what you
mean, but it’s important to set ridiculously highstandards for yourself, otherwise you can’t
meet your own ideals.
You don’t wanna meet ’em, you wanna be searching for them andstriving for them. That’s part of the way we operate and will continue tooperate – just creating bold, stupid plans if you like, and then trying to live
up to them.
part of this campaign involves the sporadic release of self-produced
postcards and leaflets – little manifestos of intent from the nervecentre of their own neutron label.
The whole prose side of it is as important as being in a band, singing or
playing – that’s something that seems to be forgotten. The idea is to use
your imagination and then put all these ideas into practice throughvisual things – though the media IS the message. Actually do it, not justtalk about it.

DaviD Corio / GETTY

So what are ABC saying?
From the start it’s just the basic manifesto; that you can be intelligent andkinda mobile; you can be suss and you don’t have to be mindless. It’s partof the whole eclecticism, the bag, the soup – just throwing everything in.
For all their chameleon yearning, ABC are, at present, the best of our
new home-grown funk bands.
Yeah, that’s been said. When we first toyed with theidea of trying to make music that approached a Rose
Royce or Chic or… I dunno… George Benson or
Ronnie Laws, the initial idea was to take these“You can present
something sharp,
literate and danceable”:
Fry and guitarist MarkWhite at Legends

132 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

examples, like food on a menu, and try andwork something new out of them, but sincethen a lot of people seem to have been working
along that line. To be fair, we formed this groupon… I think it was July 1, 1980, and at that timeit seemed like a radical idea for five white
Caucasian youths in their late teens, earlytwenties, to be playing disco music, trying toradicalise it.

Why did it happen? Why do/did ABC needto exist?
I think it’s part of the old dissatisfaction.
What was there in that period? A lot of false
philosophising, a lot of over-intellectualarguments, like a fake sort of madness, fake tortured souls… d’you knowwhat I mean? There was that sort of art feeling, art involvement, andI think people just realised what a cul-de-sac that was and just wanted
to move and dance and create something a bit more vibrant.
Before ABC, Mark, Martin and Stephen were Vice Versa, a synthesizer
band attempting to create “electro-violence, attempting to make asynthesizer sound exciting and dangerous and soulful”.
The fool’s errand folded after several unsuccessful singles and they
started the search for “a group that was powerful and passionate anda rhythm section that could answer any question”.
Then it wasn’t a question of dashing down to an A&R department orgoing crazy to play the Marquee or the Moonlight. It was a question of
cataloguing songs, to show people what we could do. To write somethingalong the lines of ‘Tears Of A Clown’.
A pretty tall order!
Yeah, but I think these are the sort of things you should aspire to – say,“Anarchy In The UK” OR “What Becomes Of The Broken-Hearted?”… themasters. A tall order… yeah! But I think that’s what makes music vital.
Ike SpAndAu And Blue Rondo, ABC areanxious that their gigs become “events”
rather than just another night out watchinga band. Their latest ploy, opening the A-Z Club in

Labc
A-Z CLuB, BAyS
wATEr
LONdON

the basement of Queensway’s Plaza Hotel,
was a magnificent miscalculation.
A concrete cell that made the Marquee look
like Madison Square Garden, the legal capacity
stretched to 300 and someone said there were
150 on the guest list.
ABC don’t need this incest; despite the lights
failing, the PA packing in and Martin’s garish
compere’s glitter suit, the set was a 25-minuteblinder. The promise performed. Wanna see’em? You should!

Where next?
I don’t think it’s necessary to play a great
number of gigs. We don’t wanna be a studioband like a Hot Chocolate, but more like
Linx or Sheena Easton… selective. You owe
it to yourself to keep that control. I don’t likereading about groups who say, “Oh, therecord company fucked up on it or…”; like,anybody but themselves. I take responsibility
for ABC. It’s under my control. You plan yourown destiny, I believe that. You choreographmass stardom.
You sound confident.
I am confident. Sometimes we’ve been blowing
our own trumpets in interviews or whatever,but I’m not massively egotistical – just realistic.
We’re good, we HAVE to be good.
When we record an album I’d like it to be ourVolume 1 Greatest Hits album. Before that wewanna record three or four singles – the ideathat revolutions occur at 45 rpm, the idea thatyou can be radical within the framework ofmaking singles, the idea of making four-minutesymphonies, from the ridiculous to the corblimey in three-and-a-half minutes.”
What’s the radical message?
Just that you can present something sharp,
literate and danceable.
That seems so narrow – pop about making
pop, making a record about making a record.
Isn’t your scope broader than that?
Yeah. Love. Coming back to human situations
time and time again; something as simple asthat. About how people treat one another.
“Tears Are Not Enough” is basically about that,about direct statement. I think that’s essential.
It always was and it always will be.
But pop’s becoming so convoluted and selfobsessed at exactly the time it shouldn’t be. It’s
becoming almost a joke to make a statement…
No, not a joke. The way to do it is to make astatement that’s attractive. The mass audience
isn’t interested in the sort of Scritti Politti
political way. If you put things on a plate people
just aren’t interested, but to be able to write asong about boy-meets-girl and have the ideas
evolve round that – that’s an achievement.

Hell in the marketing LIVE!
OCTOBEr 18

NME OCT 24 ABC’s “spry rage” is blackened.

So I am left alone to be rational. So,
things, like… lust; the inopportune
coupling of ABC and the A-Z Club.
A one-night stand that should never
have been and certainly not seen. The
A-Z is a miss-place, a coal bunker from 1977,
still pokey, a bundle of wet leaves soggy
underfoot, a wet weekday wall in the
Marquee, trying to, dying to… be a place
to fling, to cling in, to… morrow.
So sorrowful an event. The A-Z boasts
video cocktails and other code works but,sneery me, IT DOESN’T HAVE A CLOAKROOM. Just a place tofaint onto a fag end. Is
this the sleep end of thisyear’s club craze? Blackand smelly, cramped andSELL ME? Show me.
But the other. Always
other. Just… the sort ofquestions ABC arebasking in. Questions
like: can we step outside
history by slipping into
one another’s arms? And if not…
…Die untying the knot? ABC, of course,
are so upset by the errors of the Lover’s
Discourse, which is of course a crash course
in Truth (and therefore in self-deception).
The A-Z blackened and blighted ABC’s spryrage. ABC (say, see, flee) rattle the symbols
of conventionally condensed bitterness.
There is no point in labouring the lost
opportunity – that the A-Z was a disgrace ata critical point in the ABC career course.
They hated it. They went through (with) it.
Love’s decline into mere ceremony is as
close to the “truth” of the A-Z appearance
as I need to get. I could be descriptive, butwhere would that take us? Back. I could
deny, but then, you have your spies. I’drather destroy, move on and enjoy.
ABC: thaw.
ABC: oh, you!
ABC: don’t die.
But while we’re on the subject: why does
Martin Fry keep repeating himself? Does
he want to be hit? Has he already been hurt?
Has his quest for true love – and therefore
for Truth itself – even begun yet? He has theragged tempestuous nerve of one who has
yet to resolve promises and problems.
For the time being: one hell of aperformer; one hell of a Star in the making,if you like. If you like, one personal Hell inthe making and marketing.
Fears are quite enough. It is quiet
enough to be roughly caressed by the

So mass acceptance is important to ABC?
Yeah. As a sign of respect in a way. I’m totally
against the idea of working in a minority cul-desac. I think it’s pitiful when groups have to do that. I’d like to think that ourcontemporaries, at some point, will be things like Kellogg’s and Heinz.
I like the idea of impermanence, of selling our records in supermarkets
with a “sell-by” date and a pizza on the back. Things don’t have to bepermanent like fast food, the idea that everything has a shelf-life. Our
records should have durability and disposability.

coarse tides of expectation and rumour(the wreckers of many a good Truth).
For the real time, ABC are sex machine,desiring machine, pop machine, verb
machine and any one of them verve
machine, tongue machine, perspiring
machine, success machine. In “Tears Are
Not Enough” and other as yet unreleased
poisons, ABC have a linguistic and catalytic
hold on rendering pleasurable many of theLover’s more lamentable discursive
positions (but primarily melancholy, incompleteness and disrespectful vigilance).
These SONGS are as
surely surface-tough yetyielding and adoptable asa Level 42 “Love Games” ora Costello “[Good Year For
The] Roses”. Isn’t it obvious
and marvellous that somuch diversity can co-exist?
And if they can… oh my.
In other ABCs: art ofgiving, kindness, distress,
laughter, loneliness,patience, physical appearance, the physicalgestures, self-probing, solitariness, love ofspeech, love (fatal) of truths.
Exc-use: a game with truth is always
a game with life. ABC know this anddemonstrate it craftily in the fusing of“I” and”d” in the whispers of “Tears Are
Not Enough”. Martin Fry scared theloving daylights out of us with his obvious
feeling, and feel for the obvious andcompact aphorism; eg, that true Love isonly found at the end of a journey throughmisery and filth.
A-Z. And back again.
(It is interesting to note that in thealphabet of Love Martin Fry is, at somepoint or other, m/f.)
ABC: capability to seduce technology.
ABC: culpability to surrender tovocabulary.
ABC: I ONLY HAVE YOUR WORDSFOR IT.
Don’t specify – hum the hints of thecoming hypnosis, tear up the blueprint;
don’t frequent the A-Z. Let our singers do
the talking, let ABC do the nightshift. My
fundamental disagreement with Martin Fry(tears can be enough, conditionally) does
not halt my adoring feelings.
Anyone who raves about POWER theway… anyone with a jacket like that. ABC
have “it” and I shall savour the waiting. For
that is all, really, that there ever is to savour.
After all. Ian Penman

These SONGS aresurely surfacetough yet yielding
as a Level 42“Love Games”

onFuSed? You Won’T be. ABC say what they mean. Mean
what they say. Are starting to go. I hold in my hands threebadges from the Phonogram press office: “ABC”, “Neutron
Records” and “Tears Are Not Enough”. The record hasn’t left myturntable in two solid days.
ABC: this is just the beginning. Steve Sutherland •C

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 133

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER

Then there’s a repertoireof new songs, from theforthcoming Wilder album,
which the group are using
these “low-key” appearances
to break in gently.
“D’you like it here? Is it all
right like this?” Cope keeps
asking. Club Zoo is a pet
project of his and manager
Bill Drummond, and he’s
anxious that the peculiar
circumstances shouldn’talienate the sparse audience.
“There’s no Marlboros in the
ciggie machine,” objects
somebody near the front.
“Oo are yer?” enquires
another. Perhaps Julian
shouldn’t have introduced
himself as “twee Edwyn from
Orange Juice”.
(As a matter of fact, Julian
Cope has changed his name to
Kevin Stapleton. “I’m supposed
to be championing, like,ordinary people,” he explained
to me. “And ‘Julian’ just seems
too wimpy. I thought ‘Kevin
Stapleton’ had a nice solid,
down-to earth sound to it.”)“OK, what shall we do now?”
The crowd requested“Geno”. What they did do, withslight variations from one set
to another, was a handful offaves on 45 – “Treason”,“Reward”, “Passionate Friend”– and lots of unfamiliar stuff.
The presentation’s loose,lots of playing around, song
LIVERPOOL
selections made on the spur
CLUB ZOO
of the moment. But
thankfully it’s more thana mere rehearsal in frontof a paying public. Teardrop,
NOVEMBER
ultimately, give a good, andenjoyable, account ofthemselves. Black bassist
Ronnie Francois (former
employment includes The Sinceros
and Lene Lovich’s band) is especially useful,
NME NOV 21 The Teardrop Explodes unveil Club Zoo. A few old pals turn up.
his playing adding a hard and spunky edge.
What with Cope being in good voice too,
the new sound is more direct than they’ve
original label and present management
here are maybe three dozen souls
seemed in ages.
company. For three weeks from tonight,
in the whole club and The Teardrop
Although the newest songs like “Colours
Club Zoo is housed in a Liverpool city centre
Explodes are five of them. Julian
Fly Away” and “Falling Down Around Me”
niterie: for three nights a week, Teardrop
Cope is on stage, performing a dramatic songcome with a full complement of weirdness,
will play two sets. In early December they’ll
about Leila Khaled, his head and face entirely
the overall impression is of a less indulgent
move it to Dublin. In early January it’ll be incovered by a dishcloth.
and more focused group.
the Hammersmith Palais. So far, the project’s
The rendition ends. “Wow. That was
The oldie “Sleeping Gas” sees Julian
unpublicised, accounting for the uniquely low
emotional, man,” drawls a loud, sarcastic
revert to the bass awhile – more generally,turnout. But word will spread, and the crowds
voice in the crowd. Cloth off, Cope is down
he sits astride a backwards chair or on a stool
will come. And Club Zoo aims to offer themon the dancefloor in an instant – wrestling his(the way that a torch singer should do). Likelots of surprises.
adversary to the death.
“Leila Khaled Said” and “Seven Views Of
I stayed for nights one and two – four
“Scrap!” pant the excited onlookers.
Jerusalem” suggest a vaguely Arabic flavour
Teardrop sets – and surprises there were.
“I’m warning yer, Julian, I’ll tell me mam!”– pity I chose tonight to unveil my Swinging
There’s a new lineup for a start: Julian,warns the tormentor (a gap-toothed
Rabbi look for Winter, ’81 – but attractively,
guitarist Troy Tate and drummer Gary Dwyer
rockabilly named Box Head) his head lodged
rather than pretentiously. In Liverpool’ Club
remain, rejoined by their keyboardist of yore,somewhere between the singer’s hip andZoo – before a hyper-critical, ego-deflating
Dave Balfe (looking happy as a sand boy,elbow. The Teardrop Explodes are home
crowd of old mates, rivals and all-purpose
despite his past differences with theand back among friends.
piss artists – pretension wouldn’t have stood
frontman), and a brand-new bass man, Ronnie
They’re back and they’re opening a new
a chance. Paul Du Noyer
Francois. Then there’s Cope’s new haircut.
venture called Club Zoo, Zoo being their
Julian Cope:
adopting a more“solid-sounding”
stage name,
Kevin Stapleton

LIVE!

Loose but focusedpaul coxT134 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

F
Keeping promises
MM OCT 31 Aztec Camera and Blue
Orchids advance on different paths.

P

LONDONSCHECONOM OOL OF
ICS

assion and poetry, power andpersuasion Ð a night of extremes. Blue
Orchids, at last, are more than sporadicallybrilliant. Surpassing any pseudo-psychedelictendencies and those tense Televisioncomparisons, theyÕre finally out on their own,functioning on the brink between creativity andchaos. A soaring Mancunian maelstrom of brittle
guitar, carousel organ, showband bass and jazzheavy drums, the Orchids are now! Watch, wait
and listen; thereÕs magic in the making. The
twilight world is theirs. And, after such intensity,
comesÉ the soothing balm.
Aztec CameraÕs manicured sound of preppy
suburbia infiltrates against better judgement;
seduces the bile that, thanks to McCartney,
instinctively baulks at pop ballads. With a softsmooch shuffle, a maudlin grasp of melody andbitter-sweet vocals, Camera effortlessly create what
only the infamous Edwyn and elusive Vic Godard
aspire to: an unembarrassed, white, lovers rock.
ÒWe Can Send LettersÓ and ÒMattress Of WireÓ arealready firm crowd favourites, and thereÕs plenty
more where they came from.
Both Camera and the Orchids may delve in thepast to push for the future, but both are currently
confounding expectations, growing in stature,keeping their promises. At this stage, we canÕt,shouldnÕt, but probably will, ask for more. Well,
ask awayÉ theyÕre ready. Steve SutherlandLIVE!
OCTOBER

blue Orchids’martin bramah,
ex-Fall, delivers“a maelstrom ofbrittle guitar”

NORTH LO
POLYTEC NDON
HNIC

LIVE!
OCTOBER

19

Callous charisma
MM OCT 31 The Fall drum up more confusion.

mark e Smith:staring, slumping,seeming to enjoy it

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 135

kishi yamamoto, justin thomasThe absolute beauty of a deliberately planned
unprofessionalism is the potential it affords for compete
unpredictability. The Fall, more than any other surviving
contemporary outfit, have cheekily cultivated this fine art.
Their unpredictability is their only predictabilityÉ or, to put it
more plainly, The Fall are still crap.
Mark Smith and his merry mercenaries attack entertainment
like a shoplifting spree, grab all the notes the audience needs
and keep stuffing themselves, piling it up until it all tumbles out
in a heap on the dancefloor. Two drummers now! Ð such an
unruly megalomania, such a callous, comic charisma.
The Fall turn anti-entertainment into entertainment, if you
see what I mean. I mean, I wish I could see what THEY mean!
Mark blathers on, works up a sweat, works himself into a lather,does his Quasimodo slump and amphetamine stareÉ why? Heseems to enjoy it (I think). I enjoyed it too Ð at least, I remember
dancing until I got bored. Perhaps this is the protest againstrockÕs religion? Perhaps this is the point?
IÕve no idea what songs they played Ð the sound was so bad it
was impossible to distinguish one from another. Deliberate?
Look, I donÕt understand The Fall any more than you do, but
I reckon theyÕre fun, and after over three years of antagonistic
existence, thatÕs one mighty big compliment. Steve Sutherland

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER

July 8, 1981:
The Jam return
to home turf
with two gigs at
Guildford Civic
Hall, Surrey

136 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

“Worthtaking achance on”
With the threat of nuclear war mounting daily, musicians
have decided to protest. THE JAM and THE BEAT are on
charity LP Life In The European Theatre. “The follow-on
from this would be getting people like Sheena Easton
and The Nolans involved,” says PAuL WELLER.

T— NME DECEMBER 12 —Virginia TurbeTT / geTTY

here’s a great poster out now. It’s done old-movie style, titled gone With theWind, and it shows Margaret (scarlett O’hara) thatcher in a passionate clinch withcracked actor ronald (rhett Butler) reagan. the caption reads something like: “shepromised to follow him to the end of the earth… he promised to organise it.”Brilliant. But let’s forget the lunatics who’ve taken over the asylum, and look at someindividuals doing their modest bit to organise the planet’s survival – via music.
survival Music, for it is they, have organised a compilation LP entitled Life In The European Theatre.
It features (mostly well-known) tracks by one of the strongest lineups of British acts you could imagine,
who’ve all donated their music free. Proceeds from the album go to four causes – CND, Friends Of theearth, anti-Nuclear Campaign and european Nuclear
Disarmament (eND) – and 50 per cent to a fund set up by the
THE FILM TO END ALL FILMS
four campaigns, plus the musicians, plus survival Music.
Th,•nunl l{A1,10sh F
a young guy called Chas Mervyn is the driving force behindsurvival Music. It was when he was working as tour manager
for the Beat that the idea of an album came up – one that would »»WIN FE�.,

GONE WITH
THE WIND

She Plmieed tofallow him to the end of

the earth.
Ih•Iiromi.edluur;;aniK•il: Vic..,_.._1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER

raise funds, get some sort of message across and demonstrate the strengthof feeling on the nuclear issue among musicians of this generation.
Chas left The Beat to work full-time on the project. Months of planning,negotiation and arm-twisting later, the record’s ready – to be put out
worldwide, through WEA, with sleevenotes by EP Thompson (the great
writer/campaigner) and musical contributions from such as The
Undertones, the Bunnymen, Stranglers, Au Pairs, Clash, XTC, Dury andGabriel. Their record companies all co-operated, in the end, but thegroups’ enthusiasm was total. (Linx were keen too, but found out just toolate.) So I met Chas Mervyn to talk about it all.
Madness, Terry Hall of The Specials/Fun Boy Three and Bad Manners– who are all on the LP – hoped to come along, but TOTP commitments
wouldn’t allow. But The Jam – Rick Butler, Paul Weller, Bruce Foxton –were there, taking a breather from recording, and so was The Beat’s Dave
Wakeling (fresh off the Birmingham InterCity and a married man of just
24 hours’ standing).
So… this is what we sat round and said. Except that my bits have beenrewritten to make me seem witty, pithy and articulate.

Chas Mervyn: All along it’s been the groups pushing. If they hadn’t been
so keen it would never have happened, because we’re asking people togive away something for free. The bands’ response has amazed me rightfrom the start.
NME: The Beat were in on the idea at the beginning, weren’t
they, Dave?
Dave Wakeling: Yeah, we met people from the various organisations
when we did “Stand Down Margaret” (proceeds of which went to theanti-nuclear movement). When they saw there was money to be sharedout, they lost their differences, whereas before they never trusted eachother. So we thought it’d be a good idea to extend it.
Chas, how did you decide who to approach?
CM: It was obvious that certain groups were concerned, just by thematerial they were writing, and then musicians would suggest others.
DW: There was hardly anyone who said no.
Paul Weller: (sharply) Who was the ones that did? Give us the names.
CM: (diplomatically) Later.
What was The Jam’s reaction, Paul?
PW: We’d obviously do it. It was the first time we’d got involved withanything like this – not because we’re lazy, but, dunno, it was only theother week that I actually even sent off for a CND membership. There
must be thousands of people who are against it but don’t know how to get
involved. Same with us.
DW: It’s a fear of joining organisations. As soon as they get wellorganised they end up in-fighting, over who’s gonna be social secretaryor something. But here, the thing we’re talking about is so important,even if that bickering does go on, it’s still worth taking a chance on it.
PW: It’s the thought of having a card as well – it’s like joining the Boy
Scouts. But it’s what it achieves in the end, that’s what really counts…
The follow-on from all this would be getting people like Sheena Easton
and The Nolans involved.
DW: Yeah, MOR Against The Bomb. Probably
the majority of people who like groups on thisLP already hold that view anyway…The Nolans
were quite into doing it, but I don’t know if they’dbe allowed to.
CM: It’s not as if it’s a political issue, it’ssomething that affects everyone’s lives. It’s justimmoral to kill millions of people.
PW: It’s a question of your future. At the rootof it everyone’s interested in their own future,so that’ll get across to most people.
DW: It’s funny: I think it is having an effect,’cos I don’t usually think that pop music does
have any effect. But the fact that groups are
involved has something to do with so many

young people being willing to protest in England. Whereas before it used
to be just Europe where they’d have big demonstrations and England
would be apathetic.
Rick Buckler: Young people have put it out of their minds in thiscountry for a long time.
PW: But that applies to Britain politically anyway. Whereas you talk to
people in Italy or France, they’ve got definite political views.
Also they don’t have this long-standing, complex emotional tangle that
we have with America.
PW: But I think that feeling is changing in England now that we’re only
like America’s sublet.
DW: We’re just the fender on the front of the car: not an ally at all, justa cushion. One danger, though, now that people are thinking differently
about America, you could easily fall into the trap of thinking Brezhnev’s
great – and he’s just as uncaring as Reagan.
PW: That’s what I liked in Tony Benn’s speech at the rally – that you’ve
got to resist American generals and Russian generals.
DW: Yeah, he did a good speech, really good.
This is the stigma, isn’t it, that you’re playing into the Russians’
hand, that the Kremlin is rubbing its hands with glee at the demos inWestern Europe?
DW: That you’re not even consciously communist, that you’re being
duped. But every time America stands up for South Africa or whatever,the Kremlin rubs its hands with glee. They don’t need a marketing budgetof their own, just keep letting America make mistakes for them…
Trouble is, neither system is working at the moment. Anyone in power
can think, if they can expand that’ll make it look better: all of a sudden
you’ve got plenty of coal, plenty of steel, plenty of uniforms. Put half theunemployed in an army and get them killed, put the other half in factories
making weapons.
It’s a quick, simple answer. Everyone can get a flag out and feel proud’cos they’ve got something to fight for again… We have to pretend that all
the kids on the other side of the line really hate us, so we’ve got to get themor they’ll get us first.
RB: As soon as the level of understanding comes up, the better. And
obviously one way of doing it is through the youth.
DW: The main way of communication among young people is music at
the moment. There ain’t a newspaper you can buy every day and find out
what’s happening. A lot of young people rely on music, not just as a way offorming opinions, but of keeping their spirits up…We’re trying to organisea festival in Austria next year – three-day event, 50,000 people – half fromthe East and half from the West, with some bands from the East as well.
That’d be good: just to sit in a field for three days with somebody from
Poland. A real education.
PW: That is the only barrier, propaganda. It’s not even language; youcan always overcome that.
(Chas Mervyn explains how the LP’s sleevenotes will be translated foreach country of release, and all the vital contact addresses will also vary.
Both Weller and Wakeling emphasise how travelling in groups has madethem aware of what’s happening around the world, and of how much we
all have in common.)“It’sembarrassing
to think we
could destroy
ourselves”

138 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

This LP contrasts with the American No Nukes
release. This is directly political, andspecifically anti-war, where that one was morenarrowly environmental, rich West Coast
dodos, an extension of Me Generation politics.
DW: We definitely learned some lessons from
that. It made the whole thing really respectable
and comfortable, something to stick on yourcoffee table and you don’t have to think about
it any more. In the end there was loads ofAmerican groups just dashing to get on thatLP, when their record companies were saying,‘Do you realise your two biggest competitors areon this record?’
CM: But I think all
the bands who’ve been
involved with this havemade it very clear fromthe beginning howthe jam

PW: At the root of it, what I find the mostfrustrating is that it’s the same thing it’salways been: the majority, which is us, isruled by a minority.
CM: And yet that minority are the only ones
who are safe if there is a nuclear war.
DW: I do sometimes think that it’s a wholecon, and the Americans and Russians knowwhat the plan is for the next 10 years, andthey need to keep their populations in a stateof fear to maintain their respective positions.
And if it is that, then it’s an even bigger wasteof money…
It’s important that the LP’s music is fairly
different, ’cos it’s dangerous to have a fashion
thing where it’s “in” this week to wear a CND
badge. Then all of a sudden, if that type ofgroup goes out of fashion, the people don’t
want to wear a CND badge,because it’s musically whatTHE
was happening last week.
JrHE
ESS
GABRIEL-M ADM
It’s important to show the
SPECIAILS
BEAT
N-THE
issue as being bigger than
BUNNYMETHEECHOAND
its constituent parts. In
BLOCKHEADSDORY&THE
IAN
XTC
PAIRS
a lot of ways it’s a fairly
AU
The Beat in 1981:
STRANGLERS- UNDERTONES(back, lÐr) Andy Cox,
fickle situation, the pop
Ranking Roger, David
THEATRE
world. And stuff like
Steele, Everett
IN THE EUROPEAN
LIFE
wanting to survive should
Morton; (front) Dave
Wakeling and Saxa
be more important…
It is embarrassing to thinkthey feel. And instead of being some limp LP thatthat we could destroy
happens to have its proceeds going to a cause, it has
ourselves, y’know what I
some points to make, with a real strength of feeling.
mean? You just feel a prat, for
DW: Probably the best way to sell it in America
being part of a system thatwould be the idea that if there’s a nuclear war, record
can’t do any better than that.
sales would plummet…
RB: It’s like knowing
something’s gonna fall on
you and not bothering to get
BAD MANNERED PhoNECALL fromout the way.
Louis Alphonso.
DW: We certainly feel
Direct from the Top Of The Pops studio,
capable of more than that.
Bad Manners’ guitarist Louis rang me to explain
Anyone you talk to in a pub
their involvement (namely offering the album’s one
feels infinitely capable of better than that… And this nonsense of, “Givepreviously unreleased cut, “Psychedelic Eric”). When they were
us a future.” They don’t own your future; it’s your future, just take it. The
approached, he said, they accepted right away.
question is, are we responsible enough to take our own futures?
Although “…Eric” itself is not especially anti-nuclear in content, the(A pregnant pause. We slurp our tea. Paul Weller criticises the insensitivity
move’s a bit surprising from a group that likes to avoid politics.
of all centralised authority. Chas Mervyn relates the year’s riots to that same
“We have basic political beliefs,” Louis replies. “But we don’t like todogmatic lack of official imagination.)preach them.”
DW: That’s the problem with the system at the moment. They’re trying
Much as he respects groups like The Clash and Specials, Bad Manners
to make this early-1950s suit fit somebody who’s living in the 1980s. So
just don’t feel it’s them to get too serious in song. That said, they’ll use an
they keep having to put tucks in it, and hems and darts to make it fit,
opportunity like this LP to make a gesture of support for somethingrather than saying perhaps we should have a new jacket for the ’80s.
important. And then the pips went.
I think Margaret Thatcher was genuinely shocked when the riots
happened, really surprised that people were that angry. I used to think
PW: The biggest enemy is the media, especially the daily papers. Like
she was dead callous, but I think she’s just dead out of touch as well! Not
the Right To Work march from Liverpool, that was put down in the papers
as more communist infiltration and all this crap.
a clue, and yet she’s making decisions on our behalf.
DW: I think this cause is good, because it’s harder to discredit. You don’t
have to make a huge political decision to decide you don’t want to be
NME: It must have been embarrassing for her, if nothing else, when she
blown up. It’s fairly common sense. But yeah, it is dangerous when themeets all the other heads of state. Like going to a posh party when yourmedia have a vested interest in the news and what people are meant to
own kids have just crapped on the front lawn…
think. As the situation becomes more extreme, then music becomes
more and more important as a means of communication.
EANWhILE ABsuRDITIEs MouNT up. I mentioned the
PW: Well, at the present time it’s the only form of media without somecase of the man who spent thousands on a nuclear shelter for
sort of censorship.
his back garden. When he went out to check it, it was flooded:
DW: Yes, ’cos the people in control think it’s all a bleeding racket
it was letting the rain in.
anyway. So you can get away with some fairly serious things in your songs“Sounds like an Irish bomb shelter,” said Bruce Foxton. “One withand they pass totally unnoticed.
a sunroof.”
PW: Music is a communication system for young people, but for people“Great!” laughed Dave Wakeling. “‘Bomb Shelter With A Sunroof’. If you
in general it’s the daily papers. Whatever you see splashed on the front
lot don’t use that for a lyric, then we will.”
page of The Sun, that’s your topic for the day.
And, given The Beat’s dedication to this album project since the word
DW: And even if they don’t totally believe it all, it’s still depriving themgo, maybe it’s right the last word should go to Dave… Dave?
“Yeah, well, if it all goes wrong, could we just say it was The Jam’s idea?”of real information, so it works just as well. A lot of people go, “Nay, I don’t
believe what I read in the papers”, but it’s what they don’t read there as well.
Paul Du Noyer •A

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 139

Fin Costello / GettY

M

1981

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER“We’realmost like
Pink Floyd”

DURAN
DURAN

— MELODY MAKER DECEMBER 21 —ICK: “I’ve just worked out why somany more blokes are coming to ourgigs this time round…” Why’s that?
“Because they’ve heard that so many
girls come…”
Sheffield, Manchester. Duran
Duran… a collection of “Careless Memories”… so thisis romance…
Sandra turned up in Southampton, screamed out front,
blagged her way backstage and made demands. Poor little
rich girl; already had everything daddy could buy. Wanted
something more. Andy offered an old pair of socks; she
grabbed them, hopped in the Rolls and was gone.
A telephone rings in a Birmingham suburb: “Hello. It’s
Sandra. Can I speak to Andy, please? Oh, Andy; I got yournumber from Simon Le Bon’s dad. I rang him pretending to
be an old friend. I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind… but,look, I’ve still got your socks. They’re in a plastic bag on my
bedroom wall. Oh Andy! Can I come and see you?
Click. So this is seduction…
In the corridor’s half-light, the chambermaid fumbles
the key in the lock, pushes open my hotel room door
(number 642… the man in 325 died last night!), turns andbrazenly winks.
“You’re with the band, aren’t you? Well, aren’t you the
lucky one? You’ve got the double bed…”
Well, I always considered myself slow, often downrightstupid, but now I reckon I must be prematurely
senile. Honest, the words just formed bythemselves: “Ta. OK, love, I’ll raffle it later.
ON FILM
Bye…” So this is success…

N

He MerCedes draws up within
10 yards of Sheffield City Hall’s stage
door. A three-second sprint should
see the boys safely out, in the back and away.
Twenty minutes later they’re still stuck in »T
140 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981m10

andre csillag / rex features

In the eye of the newromantic pop-star storm
with DURAN DURAN.
Rivals with Spandau Ballet.
Besieged by teenage fans.
Can they keep their
headbands when all about
them are losing theirs?
“I’ll be mad before I’m 20,”says keys man Nick Rhodes.

Duran Duran in theirhometown, Birmingham, in
May 1981: (l–r) John Taylor,
Simon Le Bon, Nick Rhodes,
Roger Taylor and Andy Taylor

HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 1411981

rex features

O C T O B E R – D ECEMBER

the frost on the limo roof, scratched, mauled, buffeted, bruised,surrounded by dozens of small screaming girls who’re just desperate
to love them to death…
So this is my insanity…
“My God! What a stupid question! That girl’s just said, ‘Do you know
you’re very good-looking?’ I mean, what sort of question is that?”
John shoves his champers, steak and chips across the table atManchester’s flashy Legend nightclub and resigns himself to increased
interruption and acute indigestion.
“I don’t mind, really. I mean, there was a time when Simon got reallypissed off and started acting a bit cocky, saying – y’know – ‘I don’t want toknow about this lot’, and it’s really hard for me to go down the Rum Runner,because all the girls bitch at my girlfriend and all the blokes go, ‘Coo, look!
He’s wearing the same clothes he wore two weeks ago – what a tramp!’“But then again, I’d really hate it if I went out and nobody noticed me atall – then I’d start getting really worried…”
Nick sighs: “I think I’ll be mad before I’m 20. I mean, I go out shopping or
something and first there’s three or four people and then a few more andthen a few more, just standing staring at me andthen, suddenly, I’m surrounded…”
As if by divine intervention, little miss sweet 16 in
frilly blouse, decorative headband – y’know, the fullnew romantic regalia – chooses this moment to ceaseher doe-eyeing, take a deep breath and stumble
forward. Her arms slap around Nick’s shoulders,pulling his painted head towards her and their lips

“He does put on
weight very easily”:
Simon Le Bon fronts
Duran Duran at
Birmingham Odeon,
December 21–23, 1981

meet for a brief moment. She reels, swoons, her eyes roll back and she hits
the floor in a dead faint, just like so much meat. “Oh Christ,” groans Nick.
“That’s never happened before…”
So this is routine…
The call came in a hurry. The Stray Cats have blown out The Oxford
Roadshow, will Duran fill in and mime “My Own Way?” But of course, allgood publicity. The man behind the camera says: “Plenty of time – you’re
not due on till a third of the way through the show.”
Mandy starts to administer makeup, the door bursts open and abreathless girl tangled in wires and clamped inside headphones shrieks
hysterically: “Come! Please! Quick! You’re on NOW!”
imOn nOnchalantly adjusts his silly red-towel headband,
makes for the dressing-room door and smirks: “Hey Steve, lookat Nick. He’s overdone the eyeliner again. Hey Nick! You look likea bleedin’ panda bear!”
The first verse is already half over as the last Duranie (their word,
not mine) – that’s drummer Roger – finally makes it onto the set, still
applying mascara. The boys crack up – sucha delightful disaster…
“We’ve become very relaxed these days,”
Nick informs me later. “We’re almost like Pink
Floyd or something. I mean, at the beginning weused to worry all the time. I remember when
Spandau started getting all that publicity, I went
to check them out at the Botanical Gardens justto see whether they really were cornering thedisco-rhythm market. Of course, thank God,
they were useless…
“See, when we started, we were just five men
in a boat rowing out to sea, but Spandau got
a motorboat and roared past us out into the
middle. Now they’ve run out of petrol and we’ve
got our oars, we’re rowing past them all andthey’re just sinking. Hey! I think that’s a pretty
good analogy, don’t you?
“I’ll tell you what – that tour we did supporting Hazel
O’Connor did us so much good. It meant we played
everywhere from Manchester Apollo to the Marquee,
tested them out, learned how to win an audience.
“Like Chris Spedding said to me, ‘If you rehearsenine days a week, you become very good at rehearsing;
if you play nine dates a week, you become every good atplaying live.’”John agrees: “We really wanted to play live and it paid
off. The kids who come to see us – I know who they like.
I can see their badges; it’s us, The Human League,
Orchestral Manoeuvres… and I ask them, ‘What about
Spandau?’ and they say, ‘Oh, they never play, they’ve
become all snobby’…”
Suddenly the chauffeur butts in: “You’ll never guess
what, Nick – some old girl just asked me a very personalquestion about you.”“What’s that?”“She asked if you’re bisexual.”“And what did you say?”“Yes, he isn’t…”“That’s a good answer.”
So this is stardom…

S

ick hates leaving the fans in vain out inthe cold; can still remember hanging aroundwaiting to pester his own personal heroes.
Andy agrees: “If you’re not gonna see them, at least you
should let them know when you’re gone.”
Not so long back, Andy was in the same sort of crowd
himself – helping demolish David Bowie’s Roller outside
Newcastle City Hall.
The transition from hunters to hunted was swift andsurprising. How has it changed you, John?
“Well, we’ve become a lot more confident now. We
don’t seek other people’s opinions so much; we feel we’reN

142 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

durAn durAn

A weighty lifelessness

The result is a sensibly packaged,
respectably safe and self-consciously worthy
record that belies the promised glamour of
their two earlier singles Ð both incidentally
included here.
NME JUL 4 Duran Duran’s debut LP remains stolidly earthbound.
These two songs established their
Duran Duran Duran Duran EMI
individuality, where most of the rest
bundled together a jumble of chic, theatricalcontentedly rearranges stock scenery Ð andwardrobe and delighted, self-satisfied
EverybodyÕs already talked far too muchthen none too skilfully. Possessed with theirsqueals into a boldly appealing manifesto
about it, this modern dance, this new romanceown importance, Duran Duran havenÕt got
powerful enough to intimidate outsiders intothat has thrown out the old and ushered in
the wit or lightness to play around with thebelieving theyÕre missing out on something,
the few. This fancifully dressed elite has
sceneÕs key words and phrases, as dowhereas Duran Duran can only conjure up
dazzled New York into thinking that London
Depeche Mode. Instead, like Ultravox, they
about as much mystique as the early, hamswings again. NYÕs all-embracing acceptanceattempt to create magnificent artifices from
fisted Japan. They make all the ÒrightÓ moves,of the peacocks has endowed their vain
swirls of synths and guitars over imposing
but they make them too tentatively. TheyÕre
strutting with an importance it previously
disco-rock foundations. Duran DuranÕs
too tied to the accepted steps to surprise us
lacked, possibly convincing them that London
collapse through their weighty lifelessness,and theyÕre too knowing to pass as naive
really could be overrun with pirates,
though this is partly the fault of Colin
explorers. Worse, they refuse to acknowledge
highwaymen Elizabethans and gringos.
ThurstonÕs lacklustre production, whichthat to this new breed of tasteful consumers
However, they better keep talking as not all
reduces stridently colourful highlights to fit
the appearance of disposability, of transience,of us are convinced.
the densely homogenous whole.
is essential Ð even if, like Spandau Ballet, they
Not that conviction is at all important Ð
Their songs roll gracelessly and inexorably
want to make a career out of it. For their debut
talking itself is what this new breed is best at:
forward with all the ponderousness andLP theyÕve sought proper guidance by
they entertain through the gossip columns,
implied artfulness of a young Barclay James
commissioning a Malcolm Garret/Assorted
colour supplements and, when luck will have
Harvest. The best, surprisingly, sounds mostImages sleeve and a Colin Thurston (ex Bowie
it, chat shows, selling the image first with thelike those old hacks. Called ÒFriends Of
and Magazine) production.
products to follow shortly. In such a mediaMineÓ, it twists and spins its mass of
preoccupied scene Duran Duran thussounds into an engaging chorus with
begin at a disadvantage, being based soa witty panache lacking elsewhere Ð
far away in Birmingham. TheyÕve also
the two singles excepted.
eschewed the elitist games of the Blitz
DURAN
Musically, the laborious Durancrowd by quite honestly and accurately
DURAN
Duran donÕt really conform to the new
professing their home-grown scene to bebreed of self-described stylistsÕ
rootsier and more fun-orientated in its
hedonistic ethics; that they crop up in
pursuit of finery. Their less nonsensicaltheir playlists alongside electro-disco,utterings havenÕt hampered them so far,funk and jazz is less in recognition of
but their dourly earthy qualities
Duran DuranÕs class than the fact that
undeniably dim their impact. Better atheyÕre one of the few groups to havedelicately embroidered white lie than the
been produced by the ranks.
rather plain truth in this particular arena.
Duran Duran only confirm that, for
Spandau Ballet and Visage havethe moment, this breed makes better
understood this only too well. They andconsumers than creators. Chris Bohn
their gaggle of publicists and pariahs havecapable of judging for ourselves. I don’t
really take any notice of the press thesedays. I mean, I’m more interested in what
my mum thinks of our records than what
the papers say about them. Sure, you takenotice sometimes, because sometimes it
hurts – like when they started saying Simon was
fat. We’d say, ‘Well, yeah, Sime, you’ll have towatch it’, because he does put on weight very
easily. But if we started to be really swayed bypress opinion, I think that would be the end…”
That’s not what I was getting at…
“OK, I know. The worst thing that could have
happened to us would have been the ego thing.
Like Julian Cope – he hasn’t got anyone tointervene; his band just says, ‘Yes, Julian,anything you say.’ But with us there’s no one
person; there’s always four other pairs of boots
ready to go in, four other pairs of hands ready topull you down. It’s a very democratic outfit.
Cope can’t decide whether he wants to be a pop
star or an intellectual…
“You speak for yourself – I’m into pure pop. I’d much rather be a pop star.
We’ve been getting a lot of slagging for attempting nothing more thanpure entertainment, y’know, all that ‘let them eat smoked salmon’business. But that’s so hypocritical, because what about Adam? Whatabout Funkapolitan? They’re no different but they don’t get slagged
because that’s all fun for the feet not the head, so it’s supposed to be OK…”
“People are always slagging us off for being contrived” continues Nick.
“I think ours is one of the least contrived albums in the last 10 years.

I mean, Spandau are contrived in every
way, heavy metal’s contrived with all thetight trousers and guitar solos, Rondo
are contriving all that brass thing, but
we just didn’t care when we did thatalbum; we just did what we wanted to do.
“See, people never seem to get us right; theyeither think we’re a stupid con like the new Bay
City Rollers or they take us too seriously –y’know, good musicians, good image, all that.
We’re neither, really, we’re in-between.”
So this is bon voyage…

“I think ours
is one of theleast contrived
albums in the I
last 10 years”’m still taking the piss out of Nickat four in the morning over the tour
programme error which lists his favourite
musicians as “Bowie and ELO” instead of“Bowie and Eno”.
“Look, you sod, why don’t you come to
Leicester tomorrow?”
I can’t if you want to make our Christmas issue.
“Oh well. It’s been nice having you around anyway.”
Now there’s an apposite phrase – it’s nice having Duran Duranaround, too.
At 10 the next morning I’m creeping out of the lift on my way home. The
foyer is crawling with girls.
“Are you the drummer?” asks one.
“No, he looks more like John’s brother,” says another.
“Are you really his brother?” she gasps.
I must admit it – I told a lie. Steve Sutherland •HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 143

THE

HISTORY

OF

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1981

J U LY – D ECEMBEr

Readers’ letters *YAMAHA
MM/NME JUL-DEC Desolation in the rows, jive in the lingo and other grumbles…

Stoned while
trying to keep seat
Having been an
ardent believer in
the integrity of Mr Robert Dylan
for some considerable time now,
I felt it necessary to voice mydiscontent at the apparent
disarray over tickets for his
forthcoming concerts at the NEC
in Birmingham. After obeying all
the rules specified for purchase of
three tickets and duly sending off
my postal order at £8.50 per ticket(plus 30p ticket booking charge)
for Saturday, July 4, I subsequently
received three tickets for Sunday,
July 5, all £7.50 seats.
Firstly, I can live with the factthat I have to organise alternative
arrangements to make the Sunday
date, bearing in mind the rareopportunity of seeing the guy inconcert once again.
Secondly, I am prepared to put
up with bum seats as at the very

least I have tickets, despite the factthat they were applied for as soon
as dates were announced.
But the third and final annoying
little factor I cannot accept is how
I am being ripped off for threemiserable quid without any
mention of a refund for the sum
when tickets were sent.
I can visualise the mammoth
task of distributing tickets, but
I am sure Harvey Goldsmith et al
will be well taken care of whenthe euphoria is over. Money
doesn’t talk, it swears!
GARY GROVE, Tennyson Rd,
Coventry (MM Jul 4)ebet roberts / getty

Nice Bob if you can get it
As an inveterate Dylan Fan who
has followed with an insatiableappetite the man, his music andpsyche for more years than I careto state, I would like to say that the
Earls Court concert I attended wasa joy to cradle.
The critics who philosophisewith their pens can cut all theywish, but to the 140,000 disciples
who paid to see him, everything
in the garden, if not lovely, is far
better cultivated than thewilderness that has grownaround him in the past 20 years.
COLIN BRINTON, Colchester Road,
Wix, Essex (MM Jul 18)

Atlantic crossing
When did you last call yourgirlfriend “baby”? Can anyonetell me why so many British
bands and performers still find it
necessary to Americanise theirsongs? Many English vocalists
seem to adopt a false American
accent when they sing – just listen
to their pronunciation of words
like “dance” or “chance”.
Bands endlessly sing about their“baby”, which is not only the most
overused word in pop but just isn’t
in any way an English expression.
The worst cases are when you go
and see some local band who havenever been outside of Bromley
passionately screeching clichedlines like: “I was cruisin’ down the
highway with my baby”, “I’ve beenrunnin’ on empty for too long” or“I ain’t got a dime for the phone”.
It’s not that I don’t like
American material, but I preferto hear it sung by genuine US
artists who can perform it witha bit of credibility.
Fortunately, things have beengetting better recently. People like
Squeeze, Ian Dury and Madness
are writing songs about the realworld and aren’t frightened ofsinging them in English accents.
But beware! Keep your ears
open! There are still plenty ofothers whose brains cruise
down Sunset Boulevard while
their bodies are cruising down
Penge High Street.
MELVIN RUTTER, Croft Road,
Norbury, London (MM Sept 19)

Hard rock and a hard place
Thursday 12th November,
Newcastle – Gillan
Friday 13th November,
Newcastle – Gillan
Saturday 14th November,
Newcastle – Gillan
Sunday 15th November,
Newcastle – Gillan
Monday 16th November,
Newcastle – Judas Priest
Tuesday 17th November,
Newcastle – Judas Priest
And those prats on the telly
wonder why there’s a glue sniffin’

and alcohol problem in the area.
ChRIS MOISER, Fenman,
Newcastle (NME Nov 28)

Everybody's
playing ill-640202
Tel 0908

Last words on Ian Curtis
I think it’s time some essential
things were said about Ian Curtis
and the way critics romanticise
and sentimentalise his suicide.
Why won’t they accept the factthat he was a FAILURE?
Chris Bohn writes: “Let’s takeconsolation in the fact that Ian
Curtis’s death didn’t so muchbring Joy Division’s journey to theheart of darkness to an abrupt halt
as freeze it for all eternity at thebrink of discovery.” I get the
feeling that Chris Bohn doesn’t
have a clue what Ian Curtis waswriting about; his journey to theheart of darkness wasn’t leading
anywhere except six feet under.
Critics seem to believe that his
death was incidental to the music.
Wrong. Ian Curtis’ state of mind,
as portrayed in the later lyrics
especially, clearly needs somedrastic alteration.
His way was a little too drastic.
Ninety per cent of the Closer lyrics
present the distressing picture of
Ian Curtis falling apart at theseams. For example, the guilt in“Mother I tried, please believe me/
I’m doing the best that I can/I’mashamed of the things I’ve been put
through/I’m ashamed of the person
I am”; the total disenchantment
with life itself – “Existence, wellwhat does it matter?”He saw love as his destiny. No
one took his dreams away. Things
became so unbearable that hekilled himself. Cop-out. It seems
stupid to glorify anyone’s inability
to cope with life, no matter how
well they articulate it. It seems attimes that certain critics’ think weshould aim to attain the status ofan Ian Curtis before he died.
Personally, I’d rather not go on theroad to nowhere.
PS: I do actually like Joy Divisiona hell of a lot but resent what I
think is the distorted, pompous
image you give them.
J BINGhAM, London SW15
(NME Dec 12)

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C Rose, Bradford-on-Avon,
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HISTORY OF ROCK 1981 | 1451981

m o n t h by mon th

Coming next...
in 1982!

So that was 1981. Broooce!
Certainly, that’s not it from our reporters on the beat. The
staffers of NME and Melody Maker enjoyed unrivalled accessto the biggest stars of the time, and cultivated a feel for therhythms of a diversifying scene; as the times changed, so did
they. While in pursuit of the truth, they unearthed stories
that have come to assume mythical status.
That’s very much the territory of this monthly magazine. Each month,
The History Of Rock will be bringing you verbatim reports from the pivotal
events in pop culture, one year a month, one year at a time. Next up, 1982!

U2

on the road to world domination with the Irish band. “That oldcliche of rock’n’roll rebellion is a joke at this stage,” says Bono. “It’s soconservative, you could actually write a rulebook, you know, on how tobehave as a rock’n’roll rebel… and I think rebellion starts within yourown heart. Dyeing your hair red is not necessarily any indication of amenace at all.”

THE BIRTHDAY PARTY

on the road with Nick Cave and his demented post-punk band. “Theband’s just a little monster we’ve created that we don’t seem to have any
control over any more,” says bass player Tracy Pew. “It’s like the nerve
reaction when you pull off a spider’s leg and it keeps on kicking…”

DEXYS MIDNIGHT RUNNERS“I buy one music paper every week, usually the NME,” says Kevin
Rowland, returning to the interview fray. “I leaf through it and I try toread it, but when I get halfway through an article I just have to put it
down. The way musicians go on about their music makes me sick…”

PlUS…
ScRITTI PolITTI!
THE ASSocIATES!
oZZY oSBoURNE!

146 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1981

I

FROM THE MAKERS OF UNCUTTHE

HISTORYOF

Every month, we revisit long-lost NME and Melody Maker interviews
and piece together The History Of Rock. This month: 1981.
“Those memories come back to haunt me/They haunt me like a curse”
M■

Relive the year…

BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN REMINDED
THE WORLD HOW TO DREAMTHE CURE UNVEILED A DRAMATIC NEW SOUNDBOB DYLAN GRANTED A RARE AUDIENCE…and The SpecialS, U2, paUl Weller,
Black SaBBaTh, adam anT and many more sharedeverything with NME and MELODY MAKER

More from UNCUT ...
UNCUT
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