scans.
FRINGE APPEAL
NED'S ATOMIC DUSTBIN might have a silly name, stupid haircuts and jump up and down like idiots but that doesn't make them irrelevant. God knows, even the Clothes Show want to copy their style. CATHI UNSWORTH follows them to Birmingham to assess their appeal, STEVE GULLICK catches them on the up
AT THE other end of the spectrum from the golden ray of new Mane pop
stars, sit five crimped and rather grubby greboes from Stourbridge,
Birmingham.
This time last year, Ned's Atomic Dustbin were opening for The Wonder
Stuff on their extensive 'Hup' tour. Yet last night, as fringed singer
John recalls with starry eyes, "We sold out Leicester University.
Nine hundred people! It's crazy."
Like the Inspiral Carpets, the Neds seem to have got the culture/pop
crossover exactly right.
Sitting in the unlikely setting of Birmingham Museum's Edwardian Tea
Room, our (anti) heroes seem a little shocked at the way things are
turning out for them.
Their scrabbling, guitar-fuelled, heads down, drink-up, fuzz belch sound
follows in the glorious wake of their Stuffie friends, adding a little
Wedding Present aplomb for extra appeal. Only the Neds possess the kind
of lads-next-door-making-a-racket charisma that rockets them into your
heart.
And their bastardised Phil Oakey fringes are, the entire media agrees,
the most potent symbol of the Ned phenomena.
"At Reading," recounts John, "the girl from the Clothes
Show was talking to us. And she said, We want to do a feature
on you, we want to do an anti-fashion thing. Perhaps that's what it
is. Cos Manchester's the fashion. So it's quite healthy that we're not."
You have quite a wacky, devil-may-care image.
"I think this is a popular misconception," bassist Alex sniffs
airily. "Because I think we're really sensitive, artistic souls.
We met each other at the same art gallery in Milford Haven and the vibe
was just right."
The Edwardian Tea Room, much to the annoyance of the violin soloist
in an evening suit, dissolves into giggles.
"I don't think we're really wacky," considers second bassist
Mat, recovering from a fit of laughter. "I think we make the most
of having a good time, which a lot of bands just don't bother saying.
"How lucky we are to be in a band and not having to get up every
morning to do a crappy job. And how frighteningly immature and unselfconscious
we are."
"It's alright for people to think we're wacky," counters drummer
Dan. "But it sort of trivialises what we're about. We might have
a silly name, stupid haircuts and we might jump around like idiots,
but we're not irrelevant."
"The haircuts can't be irrelevant," John hurriedly protests.
"Cos a lot of the fans have got theirs' done the same way now."
INDEED, THERE is nothing trivial about the impact the Neds have had
this year. For all the proof you need, look no further than this year's
Reading Festival and the amazing response the Neds got for some T-shirts
that they had made especially for the occasion. 'We've talked about
it', the garments said on the front -'Now let's f**k', proclaimed the
back. But only a mere 30 were made up.
"They were a bit of a piss-take," says John, "of the
rock stars backstage at Reading with their shades and leather trousers,
being really crass and pathetic. We just thought the T-shirts were funny,
and we had them done because we were absolutely shitting ourselves about
playing.
"Then, suddenly," he grins, "there were absolutely ridiculous
amounts of money being offered for these T-shirts.
"It went from 60 quid to 300 in a morning! We said, Don't be so
bloody stupid, go and make your own. The security guards all wanted
them!
"And I was walking past the T-shirt stall and this girl I know
who does Jesus Jones' T-shirts ran over to me and said, This guy wants
to talk to you - he wants to buy the rights for that T-shirt and put
them in the shops! And this is the same day! It's ludicrous."
If it hadn't been for the Neds' moral scruples, those garments could
have been bigger and cooler than f**k. Still, after such an accolade,
their next conquest should surely be a performance on perennial kiddies'
fave, Top Of The Pops.
With their latest single, 'Until You Find Out' (which is a typically
raucous and sweetly nasty affair and their last release for Chapter
22 before signing a distribution deal with CBS), the Neds could be poised
for some real chart action.
"Yep! You're right," beams Mat. "I think we'd be brilliant.
Anyone who saw us, even if they loathed us to death, they'd have to
take notice. It'd be something they remembered."
"It's good to see real bands on Top Of The Pops,"
adds John. "The Wedding Present were brilliant."
"My nan waited up till half past three to see us on The
Chart Show," says guitarist Rat shaking a tousled head.
"And she's that short sighted that the video moved so fast she
couldn't see me."
Setting up their own label with CBS backing, could help the Neds achieve
this aim all the more quickly.
"Definitely," nods Mat. "It means people can actually
get hold of the record this time around. They can get it in small towns
and villages, not just from London.
"We'd never have done it if we didn't think the advantages outweighed
the disadvantages. They (the record company) were impressed with how
far we'd got doing things our own way."
DO THE Neds have any theories as to why they appeal to so many people
and why things have happened so quickly for them? Could it be that people
can easily envisage themselves being in Ned's Atomic Dustbin?
"A lot of people could do what we're doing," ponders Rat,
"but the fact is, we're doing it and they're not. A lot of people
have said to us that our gigs remind them of when they're in the bathroom,
miming with a tennis racket, pouring water over their heads for that
sweat experience."
"Some people want mystique," furthers John. "We don't.
You've got to hear the band sounding crap sometimes. So you don't get
the wrong impression - that everything's polished.
"The impression the audience get is a lot different to the impression
people who really know us have. I think that's the attraction for us.
Our fans want to jump about and have a good time, which is what we want
to do."
And so touchingly modest, too!
"Reading was the best day of all our lives," sighs Mat. "We
were crying, the following were crying. They were as nervous as we were.
We were sitting in our caravan, and John Peel was going through the
line-up. Our name came up, and we got a really big cheer. It was brilliant."
"All we have to do now," smiles John, "is make an album
brilliant enough to follow it up."
Oh, greboes, I think the world loves you.