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Plumbing the Depths
You probably thought SLOWDIVE were sweetness,
innocence and light of being - Nothing, it transpires, could
be further from the truth. Ten limbs controlled by Satan,
kicking up a storm. Stunned beyond belief: Stunned beyond belief: Simon Williams
Clicking regardless: Kim Tonelli
Lock up your doormats, for not so long ago dreamy pop
protagonists Slowdive found God. Or rather God, thanks to
a couple of disciples and one terrible ITV -style sitcom
bungle, found Slowdive strangely unguarded.
"It was back
when it was snowing and we were expecting some
journalist and a photographer to come round and do an
interview," recalls singer Neil.
"Because we were supposed
to go off on tour that day we were all rushing round trying
to pack bags and get ready. So when these two guys
appeared at the door 1 just sort of let them in. 1 thought
they looked a bit jazzed up for journalists 'cos they were
wearing ties and they looked like real geeks, but 1 offered
them a cup of tea. Then they sat down and the first
question was: 'Can 1 talk to you about Jesus?'!!!"
"Exit Neil,
running straight into the kitchen leaving me and Christian
(guitarist) with them!" continues vocal partner Rachel.
"Christian ended up reading passages out
of this Mormon book while these blokes stared at a
Christian Death t-shirt I had hanging over the radiator."
"They showed us a picture of this Mormon family," rejoins
Neil. "They looked like the Mansons!"
"I didn't think they
were gonna go," shivers Christian.
"It took about an hour
to get rid of them. We were dropping really unsubtle hints
like 'F**K OFF YOU C**TS!'..."
There are several strange
factors involved when spending a day out in the Home
Counties with Slowdive. The first manifests itself when
bassist Nick turns up at Didcot station (somewhere in the
middle of oblivion) to meet your trusting hack in a
classy-in-a-tatty-sort-of-way Triumph Spitfire. Roaring
through the countryside, he infonns me at a very high
volume that each member of the band plans to buy such a
car so they can fonn a Slowdive Spitfire Appreciation
Society.
Heck, one muses, if the Japanese invented a car
called the Slowdive, would Spitfire form a Spitfire Slowdive
Appreciation Society? Think about it.
The second strange factor is revealed when Nick reaches
the village wherein the band's temporary studio home is
situated. Sutton Courtney is the kind of idyllic, Olde
Worlde hamlet that gives 'Cluedo' mysteries such a good
name. The kind of place which lurks in the shadows of
enonnous invading power station chimneys, yet seems
bizarrely susceptible to power cuts. The kind of place
where murders take place.
"Some bloke got killed by
another bloke down here last year," natters Neil pleasantly,
as we wander down a leafy alleyway towards the local pub.
"They both worked as turkey pluckers nearby, and one of
them kept winding the other one up so much in the end he
decided to retaliate by stabbing him! There was this really
rich Saudi Arabian bloke around here, as well - he died of a
cocaine overdose. When the police broke into his mansion,
they found suitcases and caskets full of the stuff!"
The third
oddity pokes its head out in the pub, when Nick and
Christian start swapping one-liners like Gerry Sadowitz
meeting Andrew Dice Clay and going for
seventeen pints on the town. Jokes about cocks, boobs and
genitalia in general flow like detritus from a sewage pipe.
Or, in Slowdive's case, sewage from what should be a
squeaky clean Perrier pipeline.
Frankly, nothing is as it
seems. Then again, what should be in a world where
Slowdive and their esoteric, outer-worldly soundscapes
which should have all the commercial viability of a
one-wheeled bicycle can threaten to soothe the
BPM-crazed insanity of Chartland? Yet there they were,
when summer kept refusing to kickstart itself into action,
nudging the Top 50 with their third 'Holding Your Breath'
EP.
"Our midweek position was 37!" beams Nick. "So we
were running around discussing what we were going to
wear on Top Of The Pops."
"It was great! We had bouffant
haircuts prepared!" shouts Christian. "If we went on Top
Of The Pops I'd wear a stupid hat."
Erm, why?
"Cos I want
to. I'd wear an enormous hat and grow a moustache and
have those glasses with the eyes that dangle out on the end
of springs...and then we'd do this 'ethereal' number!"
Did
that chart semi-success catch Slowdive off guard?
"Yeah, it
was really surprising," frowns Neil, fringily. "But I think
there are quite a few other people with a lot less talent and
even worse songs than us getting in the Top Ten, like Jace
and that Ice geezer."
"Oh you never know, he might be
really talented," argues Nick. "He doesn't sound it, but you
never know..."
Inevitably, the conversation swings around
to the Shoegazing (aka Murmering, Honeychildren,
Post-rave comedown) scene. Having crept from Reading in
the summer of 1990 to link up with Creation and polish a
sound sublimely (albeit inadvertantly) designed to act as a
blissed-out antidote to the Baggy, lads-in-the-charts
'culture' of Rave City, Slowdive have spent far too many
hours being foisted in the same social circle as a myriad of
supposedly likeminded bands with a predilection for staring
at their footwear and gently abusing funny effects pedals in
Home Counties hide outs.
Even designer wankmag The
Face saw fit to 'expose' these soldiers of soporificy in a
glossy 300-page spread. Now Christian says the word
'ethereal' as though it were some particularly unpleasant
buttock disease. Now Slowdive are out to smash the
pigeonholes. Sort of.
"It's more of an indie kid scene,
really," complains Christian. "You see the same kids at
various indie gigs, just like when I was 15 everyone was into
Echo & The Bunnymen and the Marychain."
"It was really
funny at the Chapterhouse gig actually," smirks Rachel.
"Neil had on this brown suede jacket and someone pointed
at him and said, 'Look! He's got a Chapterhouse jacket on!"
"I've started to notice Chapterhouse wearing desert
boots now," notes Christian. "They've disregarded the
pointy ones, but I suppose you've got to have a bit of
variety if you're shoegazing."
Nick: "That's why I bought
those black and white trainers."
Christian: "Yeah, they're
quite interesting to look at. I usually untie one of my laces
and look at that, imagining it's a snake. That's quite
exciting."
Neil: "It's very exciting playing live. Sometimes I
look at Christian's shoes!'
Nick: "I wore a pair of gorilla
slippers once. That was quite interesting to look at 'cos I
thought I was an animal. Which I am."
But seriously. Back
to the traumas and tribulations of being in a 'scene'...
"We
never go to any of those ligs," gripes Nick, "But it always
gets printed that we were there anyway!"
"Yeah, we
weren't even at our own lig!"
yells Christian.
"We never say in interviews that we wank
off to Moose or listen to Chapterhouse all the time," rants
Neil, "and Lush can make me cringe."
"Lush are just a myth
now, aren't they?" observes Christian. "An alcoholic myth.
They're like Spinal Tap. I'm just waiting for that fucking
drummer to come in wearing leather keks with a
cucumber stuffed down his trousers!"
"All the bands are
different for the most part," argues Neil. "If anything,
Moose have come along and they've sounded like us and so
we've been bracketed together which is really annoying
'cos we were doing it first! Our album will dispel a few
myths, though, 'cos the incredibly tenuous link between all
these bands is the influence of the Valentines, but on our
album there isn't really a Valentines influence. It's a lot
more earthy than what we were doing before, it's more
passionate.
"Basically," continues the singer, now well into his stride,
"We just wanna make something that's big, beautiful and
majestic. Chapterhouse are a much more poppy-orientated
band 'cos they wanna write things with really good tunes.
And we're into tunes, but we've been inspired by the
Kitchen's guitar sound or the Valentines' huge wash of
noise. Chapterhouse are more into making something that's
just beautiful and huge."
Nick: "Like my cock!!!"
The
conversation mercifully turns. Rachel talks about the debut
album and its European textures, a la arty French movies.
Christian reckons their music is more suited to Swedish
porno films. All of Slowdive enthuse about their new
country & western song about "rolling glasses down saloon
bars". Honestly.
Outside in Sutton Courtney, murders are
probably being plotted, officially bankrupt people are
building mansions and half the local population is heading
towards
the loony bin. Inside the pub, an astonished Neil tells us a
secret.
"You know that Cocteau Twins advert for Aqua
Libra? Apparently it's not them! Ivo at 4AD wanted their
music to be used, but the band said no, so the music's
supposed to be a cover version, which you can do without
having to ask permission!"
"That's right," nods Christian,
"'Cos we didn't have to ask Syd Barrett if we could do
'Golden Hair'. And even if we did he'd probably go 'Who
am I? What's 'Golden Hair'?"
"Ultimately, we wanna be
able to make music for adverts," beams Neil.
"I wanna be in
an advert with my fucking bare chest saying 'Drink Coca
Cola'," leers Christian. "But at the moment I reckon
Biactol's about the limit for me!"
Slowdive: heading for The
Top Spot.
Originally appeared in Siren magazine Issue 2
Copyright © Siren Magazine
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