After The Velvet Underground atrocity I safely manage to avoid any defrosted corpses doing the big bag of cash nostalgia rounds. Apart from a brush with a reheated New York Dolls in the early 21st Century. The, ahem,' Dolls, have reunited, at the behest of Morrissey as part of a Meltdown festival. The band are good, really good, but is it a minor quibble that from the old clips I've seen on TV, I don't recall there ever been a shaven headed New York Doll, sat playing a Yamaha keyboard, and if this reunion is partially about 'unfinished business' as is being bandied around, then how will the introduction of the shaven headed New York Doll sat playing a yamaha keyboard help finish this business? Or is this all a cruel practical joke played out by Indie Bond villain Morrissey.
We all know the real reason that bands reform is for the money. However there seems to be two different variants going on of reformed band. The first being of the nostalgia variant. Oddly, for me, the current slew of back together '90s bands seems less offensive than the second variant, the aforementioned 'unfinished business' merchants. You'll perhaps be unsurprised to read that I did not attend any of the Blur reunion shows of last year. I can honestly say that so far off my radar was this enterprise that I didn't even know they had split up until they got back together (ditto The Verve). Accidentally catching a nano second of bloody 'Glasto' coverage on the telly, as I travelled up the channels to my weekly appointment with 'Britain's Toughest Pubs.' I spied enough middle aged Fred Perry to know that it didn't matter whether Blur were singing about Tracy Jacks or Brian Jacks.1 What mattered to the audience was that it was 1994 again, the year they left school, or got their first car, had a lovely sausage roll or got a nice cat. Whether the band can get it together to write any new material matters not one jot, what matters is nostalgia. Suede seem to be falling in between both camps (steady), willingly doing the 'Owww Dadd...' bit whilst unwittingly having the unfinished business mantle thrust upon them from some critical quarters, presumably from people who didn't see them the first time round. Suede were always one of the best live bands ever. Because they went out with a whimper and not a bang has no bearing on that.
In case anyone is wondering (and they're not) I don't give a shit how many adverts for car insurance Iggy Pop does, actually I think he should do more. He should advertise more shit. Nestle baby milk, go on Iggy, sell, sell sell. No one can deny Iggy a decent retirement fund. I also don't give a shit about The Stooges reforming to perform 'Funhouse'. God knows if one musician deserved a bit of payola it was the late Ron Ashton. What I do give a shit about is Iggy And The Stooges performing 'Raw Power' and making out it's some kind of unloved under-appreciated black sheep of an album whose time has finally come. Give me a break man. When I was a teenager growing up in Portsmouth, every one of the fourteen cool people in that provincial shithole (for those interested I was approximately the third coolest) had a copy of 'Raw Power'. And this was fucking Portsmouth in 1982. The record was a frigging set text. British punk would not have happened without 'Raw Power.' Every cunt knows this, so can we quit making out that it's a matter of unfinished business.
I do have a bit of form in the reunion stakes, 'though not with my first group The Auteurs. With one book another book closes, and stays the fuck shut. Thank the lord. A year or so ago, for reasons that escape me (perhaps it was unfinished business) one of my own ventures, Black Box Recorder, got back together for a bit of reformation action. Actually, we'd never split up, we we're just dormant for five years, but for those who cared it was seen as a reunion. It was good while it lasted. We sold out gigs, and played in bigger venues than we had when we were 'first' active. But I couldn't quite silence the Greek Chorus of post-punk disapproval (three more from them later etc.) in my head. In May 2000 Black Box Recorder had our Top Of The Pops moment. It was great, the wrong band on the right programme, up there with Bowie and Ronson. I should think. Entirely necessary just once. After we had finished miming through our hit 'The Facts Of Life.' A teen from the bused in audience sweetly ambled up to me. “What was the name of the band again?” asked the teen. I told him. The teen nodded. “Aren't you a bit old to be doing this?” Said the teen quite innocently. I was 32 at the time. Out of the mouths of babes etc. At the age of 43 I have no problem writing and recording under my own name, it's just that being in a group seems stupid and wrong. Some nine months after 'reforming' Black Box Recorder did the decent thing and split up, properly this time.
So, if you are lucky enough to have made that rarefied 3% of the Rock Market, and you've got yourself a cool record deal, and you're having hits then realise something: you are in your pomp, and in fifteen years time your pomp is going to be a lot more saleable than your tired seventh album. Take a look at the bass player that you are about to sack, and the drummer who has ideas above his station and wants to get a few of his songs on the new album. Take a long hard look, because when you're forty, you're going to have to play with these arse-holes again when you roll up to the Shepherds Bush Empire to deliver the hits. One. Last. Time.
Luke Haines is the founder and mercury nominated brain behind The Auteurs. Also founder of Black Box Recorder, a successful solo artist and a critically acclaimed published author about his life and times in the music industry - Bad Vibes: Britpop and my part in it’s downfall.
READ PART ONE HERE- http://kickingagainstthepricks.org/features-luke-haines-re-formed-a-band...