scans.
DUSTBIN GOOD TO ME
If you thought it was surprising to see NED'S ATOMIC
DUSTBIN in the Top 20, imagine the surprise on their
faces! So it can't all just be crimped hair, garish T-shirts and spotty
chins. STEVE LAMACQ investigates.
Trash aesthetic:
ED SIRRS
"That's it then. We've nearly done the tour, we've nearly had
a hit: I think we should split up now."
Neds' wide-eyed manager Tank looks, just for a split second, despondently
at his not-very executive mobile phone.
Today is not going well. The final 24 hours of the band's three-week
'Happy' tour, and their travel firm has booked them into a hotel which
looks like a cardboard model from Space 1999- sitting
morosely, by a dual carriageway, miles from anywhere.
As Tank tries to arrange new accommodation for tonight's Leeds gig,
his mobile does a good impression of John Cleese's Monty Python parrot.
It ceases to be. It has died and gone to meet its maker.
He looks at it, considers a career as an insurance salesman, and then
grins - Benny Hill without the glasses. In the face of little problems
like this, Neds shrug and start taking the Mickey. Life's going too
well at the moment to be bogged down by spending lunch slouching round
a hotel foyer.
With the success of 'Happy', the five-piece have completed their transition
from being the runt of the Stourbridge litter, to Top Of The
Pops upstarts. In the past two years they've gone from selling
out tiny, local pub The Mitre to playing in front of 1,000 people plus
people a night.
Now comes their debut LP, 'God Fodder' - which, much to the surprise
of their parent record company Columbia - will crack the Top Ten in
the next fortnight. Ned's Atomic Dustbin have, to the absoloute chagrin
of some quarters, come to represent something special to the New Guitar
Generation (dragging scrawly pop back from obscurity and shading in
the colourful fash element).
Along the way they've been labelled Stupid, Oiky, Spotty and A Silly
Haircut Band With Two Bassists. But 'God Fodder', finally, displays
their real merits as articulate, impulsive songwriters with attitude.
It doesn't take an expert to see that the kids identify with the Neds
-with their fallible characters and garish T-shirts - where in the past
they used to adore The Roses from afar, Ned's burgeoning audience have
come in from the cold to Goth/House/and indiedom, attracted by the misfit
stance of a band who've been misunderstood as long as they care to remember.
"I REMEMBER one day at school," says bassist Alex, after
we've finally swapped hotels, "when the headmaster walked into
assembly with a blank piece of paper with a black dot in the middle.
And he said The school inspectors are coming today-this white piece
of paper symbolises all the good people and this black dot will be the
bad person. And if you misbehave, you'll be the black dot that's remembered
for stepping out of line.'
"And that's me, I'm the one person from my school who'll be remembered,
because I'm something different."
If Ned's Atomic Dustbin stand for anything, it's for being the Black
Dot of pop. Their recent Top Of The Pops performance
stuck out gaudily against the obedience of everyone around them.
Neds have captured the imagination of people disillusioned by music's
recent civility and scam-mongering. This is the disaffected vs the disinfected.
Ned's Atomic Dustbin are where various strands of pop culture meet.
In one sense they're the next step along the Poppies/Wonder Stuff post-grebo-pop
line. And in another they've grown through the grossly underrated 'Fraggle'
circuit playing alongside Mega City Four and The Senseless Things.
Their identity, the easily recognisable bold-logo T-shirts and crimped
hair, the casually scruffy style; has become an anti-trademark. They've
now produced 49 different T-shirts en route to the
top, all sell-out limited editions.
On the Happy 14-date jaunt they sold 5,000 shirts - the last batch of
300 going in the first hour at Leeds University. One girl has seem them
100 times now, another two are close behind on 95 and 96 gigs apiece
(meanwhile one dedicated bunch of fans have been nicknamed the Stunt
Squad, after their acrobatics antics at gigs).
The Neds success has been building gradually ever since the release
of their debut 'Ingredients' EP for Chapter 22 in 1989. They followed
it by touring with The Wonder Stuff and a second Indie Top Ten hit,
the anthemic 'Kill Your Television' which crossed into the Gallup Top
60 - closely followed again by the less convincing 'Until You Find Out'.
As Columbia stepped in, offering the band near-on £200,000 and
their own label, Furtive, the Neds' career was already freewheeling
fast toward the haughty 40. Which brings us bang up to date. ..
"I failed the mocks for my Music O-level at school, because all
the teacher did was make us copy out sheets about Bach," adds Alex.
"And my sister told him the other day we were on Top Of
The Pops - and he just turned away, he couldn't say anything,
shifting in his boots.
"And they were all saying, 'You were wrong sir weren't you, what
are you going to do with us then? Are we going to fail our exams and
grow up to be pop stars?'"
GOD FODDER', released on Monday, is a great hung-up guitar album. Featuring
early, frenzied material like (a re-recorded) 'Grey Cells Green', plus
newer, more thoughtfully constructed tracks like 'Less Than Useful',
it's taken the live set and brought out its best, bright moments.
Unlike their early days, when the influence of the Stuffies and Dinosaur
Jr used to clog up their potential, 'God Fodder' has far more light
and shade. Rat's guitar lines rip through nicely and the two basses
of Matt and Alex have started playing off each other, instead of scrapping
in the middle.
Lyrically, though, 'God Fodder is the record that should finally show
how singer Jonn's style has been sadly underrated 'til now. Mostly based
around particular incidents, his eloquent lyrics pull on extremes of
emotion. 'Happy' for instance ("There is a place where
I'm in your hair/So I'll go spare and leave you happy) was
written about his dad telling him he was selling their house so Jonn
would have to find himself somewhere to live.
Other tracks, such as the frustrated live fave 'Cut Up' and the inward-looking
'Selfish', are more about questioning one's own character. But uncannily,
they're all about sensations everyone's been through.
Jonn himself seems a far more open 22-year-old than the songs suggest.
His gumby-style chin-out stage persona is a far cry from his moderate
real self, speaking as he does in a quiet, considered Brum voice. Originally
he was set for a career as an actor but he dropped out of drama college,
having wound up on a second rate course.
"I get on with my dad all right now," he explains, "he's
really good about things, like he knows what 'Happy' is about but he
doesn't mind. At first I used to write about me home life, but now I've
moved to a flat on my own, that's a different sort of stability to cope
with, just living with yourself.
"And like now we've become sort of celebrities, I suppose, there's
difficulties with that. The day after we were on Top Of The
Pops I was walking around looking over my shoulder all day
because I was so paranoid.
"I was the quietest, most-shat on person in my year at school.
When I said I wanted to be an actor, they just wet themselves laughing,
because they thought this guy's so quiet, he never makes a stand for
himself. But the shock on their faces now, 'What? You're in a band!'
"I honestly don't know what people get from our music, specifically.
I suppose it's just when you're young, your emotions are much more acute
When you're in a bad mood, you're in a bad mood PROPERLY and .when you're
in a good mood you're really happy.
"The thing is, I'd like people to know what the songs are about,
but I don't want to give more of myself away than I have to. The more
open you are, the more you lose a piece of yourself to someone else."
In contrast to the Glam/Hero school of thought - which says pop stars
have to be bigger and unapproachable - Neds are still very down to earth
arid vulnerable. Very real.
"The worst thing about recording the album was just the waiting
around," says Matt. "That's the worst thing about anything,
especially gigging, you feel like you're wasting time."
"The best thing, though, was we found a dial-a-kebab," adds
Rat. "Near the studio there was the world's only kebab delivery
service, it was ace. Abra-kebabra!"
"I used to work in a kebab house when I was at school," moans
Matt. "I spent the whole time smelling of lard and onions."
ANOTHER GREAT thing about Ned's Atomic Dustbin is they're more Monty
Python than Spinal Tap. Though at times the five-piece are far more
astute and incisive that they're given credit for, in the van, it's
a continuous stream of piss-taking and one-line sarcasm, poking fun
at themselves and their so-called peers.
As we hit Leeds, prior to the last gig of the 'Happy' tour, Tank is
still desperately trying to reach the magic ton up on the guestlist.
Offers flood in.
"Snow White plus seven", "100 Dalmations plus one",
"Ali Barber plus 40", "Laurel, erm, plus one..."
"Someone said the other day, if Neds can get into the Top 20 then
anyone can," says Tank, "which isn't true, but I thought that
was really funny. Everyone thinks we're dumb, and I find that hilarious,."
A recent tabloid pop page feature claimed Neds were leaders of a new
supercult The Crusty Movement (that their followers had dogs on pieces
of string and always ate at McDonalds?!) The Neds are now having the
page printed on T-shirts.
"The first time I saw them people loved them." adds Tank.
"They were the most unprofessional band I'd ever seen in my life.
Still are."
"Bournemouth Academy, that was the funniest," says Alex. "The
first date of this tour, with full production, man, we turned up at
the soundcheck and it was great because all the lights had been done,
the backdrop was up, we had proper catering and everything! And there
was us, on stage . . . with out of tune guitars. And it was just brilliant
to know that we were still as crap as we'd ever been."
"At the second gig I saw," returns Tank, "a bloke came
up to them during the middle of the gig and said 'Could you announce
the band on next week,... and what did Jonn say? 'Next week's group
are the KP Band, I bet they're nuts'. Then I started managing them."
ALL THE self-effacing business aside, Neds nevertheless are in tune,
and cutting a swathe through the Old Bollocks Of The Industry. They
decided to keep ticket prices on the 'Happy' tour down to £7 rather
than £8, as they'd been advised, because they didn't want fans
forking out £2 more than the last time they played.
Tank, brother of Wonder Stuff drummer Martin, is a perceptive, constantly
jabbering boss, who, the first time I met him, was selling T-shirts
on tour with The Seers. He leads a crew, all under 26, who still (however
cheesy this sounds) see themselves as part of the audience.
"I remember how exciting it was seeing Stiff Little Fingers when
I was 15 and I want 15/16 year olds to come to our gigs and feel the
same way."
"He's our ego now," interjects Matt. "He's syphoned off
all egos and made them into one enormous one!"
The main 'problem' on the 'Happy' tour was the T-shirt/poster bootleggers
outside the dates. After a couple of scuffles early in the tour, the
Neds brought in a security team to curb the situation. Though in Leeds
the bootleggers were back, with crap-four-colour shirts, which literally
came apart in your hands.
"It makes me sick," says Tank, "the best one, though,
was Cambridge where Vern (tour manager) chased them down the street
and they dropped a load of posters and ran off. We piled all the posters
up outside the gig, just gave them away."
The Leeds gig, despite being the 14th show on a three week itinerary,
is another stormer. Kicking off with 'Aim' with Dan's pounding drum
kick, the band, before a crowd of 1,500, flail through a gritty but
glaringly colourful set. Their confidence level is high at the moment
- with another batch of dates impending around the release of the album.
They look like a youth club band that's grown up without getting old.
That's the essence. This young, still vibrant sound is Slade-meets-Stuffies-meets-Buzzcocks.
It is like being 16 again.
OUTSIDE THE gig, as the gear's being packed away, there's at least
50 fans hanging around on the University's front steps in case there's
a chance of catching the band as they leave. Neds, as you imagine, after
talking to them, find their new status as 'idols' frightening. They
like the idea of 'meaning something to people', but all the accompanying
palaver is getting a little unnerving.
"It's very scary, that attitude, where people come to the gigs
wanting to meet you, thinking you're famous," says Jonn. "And
for a while we're going to have to get used to that, which is really
freaky - getting used to the idea that people think you're special.
The very idea, that there are thousands of people who think you're a
higher being, when a lot of the time you're sick of yourself."
Nevertheless, the day after their contact address appeared in NME they
received 87 letters first post.
"Yeah, but one of those said you guys are great. . .da da da..
.got all your records... da da da... and by the way do you want a pension
plan? He sent a pension compliments slip!"
"Most of them though," adds Matt, "just say, send me
some information. So I'm going to send them my A-level notes."
I think the Neds will cope with their sudden jump into the charts. It's
also going to be interesting from here on in, to see whether their place
in the top rank will have a knock-on effect, breeding interest in other
aspiring guitar bands. (Columbia have already followed the Neds signing
by taking on the Senseless Things. Who's next?)
For now though, there's the LP and tour, followed by excursions to America
and Japan - where their Sony Product Manager predicts they'll make a
bigger impact than 90 per cent of the UK bands who've already toured
there.
On the song front, take '23 Hour Toothache', written recently in the
studio and the B-side of 'Happy' - as an example of how they're still
improving, with its wicked, scything guitar line and desperate vocals.
Unlike many major signings, Neds have hardly started exploring capabilities.
Just as The Wonder Stuff moved on with 'Hup' to more adventurous pastures,
the Neds will be moulding their ideas to new ends, without losing their
sense of reason.
As we leave the Leeds hotel the following morning, the Orient soccer
team are checking in, ready for a good thrashing at Bradford. I know
who'll I'll be supporting in the coming months.