I don’t have too many regrets in life. I’ve been incredibly lucky with every big decision I’ve ever had to make, personally and professionally, and as I move disgracefully into my 60s, I grow increasingly grateful for everything with each passing day. But, as I turned the pages of this wonderfully written newly published book about the growth, development and the death of the indie-music scene in Edinburgh in the 80s, I did get the occasional pang of ‘what if?’
Please allow me to explain. I moved to Edinburgh to live and work, at the age of 22, in the summer of 1985, eventually moving back to Glasgow in early 1990. I arrived in the capital with a love of music that had been with me all my life, but really ignited by the arrival of post-punk and further nurtured by meeting like-minded souls throughout my university years. I was convinced that Glasgow was still the place to be for music, particularly the live scene, and I spent many weekends travelling back west doing my best to keep up with things, but before too long, I got tired of this and looked around Edinburgh for things to get involved in.
In due course, I hooked up with some lovely people who were hoping to make a name for themselves in the creative arts through acting, dancing and stand-up comedy, and soon found myself immersed in the world of community theatre. It was great fun, and I can look back with pride on some of the shows I was involved, including being part of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, and ‘acting’ alongside people who would in due course make a name for themselves in film, TV and professional theatre.
No regrets at all about how I spent my leisure time in my adopted city, but as You and Me Against The World details across more than 400 hugely enjoyable pages, my short time as a luvvie coincided with Edinburgh experiencing a vibrant music scene of the type that was really up my street, if only I’d been paying attention. The ‘what if’ stems from wondering what might have happened if I’d met up socially with the musicians rather than the actors?
I’ve actually long been aware of what I missed out on, thanks in part to a friendship with Jacques the Kipper who, not long after we met in 1989, began to fill me in on what I’d been missing across the indie-scene in Scotland and further afield. Gaps in my music collection were gradually filled in, but have been accelerated greatly in recent years from the release of a number of compilation albums and box-sets whose liner notes offer some excellent background. The growth of the internet, and in particular blogs and fan-based sites, has also been a godsend.
There’s loads of info out there, and Saskia Holling has done a remarkable job in knitting this particular story together, and the book goes way beyond what it is suggested via its title. I make no apologies now for pinching a few paras from Saskia’s introduction. as there’s no better way to explain her achievement:-
“So, here he have the story of five bands whose fates were reliant on each other: Rote Kapelle, the Shop Assistants, Jesse Garon & The Desperadoes, The Fizzbombs and The Motorcycle Boy. The story is told through Margarita Vazquez Porte and the late Alex Taylor, whose voice I have attempted to make heard via extracts from music papers and other media interviews. These two women were musically involved, sometimes only briefly, with four out of these five bands. Both dealt with the experiences that involvement brought in different ways.
“This book is also the story of Margarita and Alex’s bandmates: Ian Binns, Chris Henman, David Keegan, Malcolm Kergan, Michael Kerr, Katy Lironi, Angus McPake, Johnny Muir, Fran Schoppler and Andrew Tully, along with Janie Nicholl and Allison Young of another Edinburgh-based band alive for a short burst in the 80s, The Vultures. These stories take us on a journey from school days to post-punk teenage years, to people meeting and making music in a small local independent scene. Along the way, we uncover the ‘shambling’, ‘anorak’, ‘cutie’ and ‘blonde’ representations of the national DIY independent music scene in the UK press and how that played into each band’s story”
The extent of Saskia’s research can be measured by her ‘References section’ with more than 100 articles from the contemporary music press quoted in some shape or form, and a further fifty online sources, including print, audio and visual, being sourced along the way. Oh, and on top of that, there’s the extensive interviews she did with many of the protagonists.
The thing that comes across more than anything, certainly for me, is that across a discography of more than 30 singles or albums released during the decade, you could count on the fingers of one hand the number which were commercially successful. All the bands at some point in their careers had their champions in the music press, albeit the same publications would, as happens with all singers and bands who are around for any length of time, come to disown or dismiss them as irrelevant, often on a whim. The sinister thing that comes through, however, is how sexism and misogyny, particularly within the UK music press of the era, played a significant and horrific part in things; even worse, but unsurprisingly, is that record label moguls were equally guilty of such behaviours.
You and Me Against The World really did give me a great deal to think about, but at the same time, it made me want to put aside all other music playing here in Villain Towers and listen again to the bands and musicians whose stories are so well told. I’m not going to claim that every record was wonderful and should be in the collections of anyone serious about indie music, but there’s more than enough to warrant the sort of Imaginary Compilation Album with which this blog has been associated with for many years. But maybe for another day. In the meantime, here’s a few singles:-
mp3: Rote Keppelle – These Animals Are Dangeroos (In Tape Records, 1986)
Andrew Tully (vocals), Margarita Vasquez-Ponte (vocals), Chris Henman (guitar), Ian Binns (keyboards), Malcolm Kergan (bass), Jonathan Muir (drums)
mp3: Shop Assistants – Safety Net (53rd & 3rd Records, 1987)
Alex Taylor (vocal), David Keegan (guitar), Sarah Kneale (bass), Ann Donald (drums), Laura McPhail (drums)
mp3: Jesse Garon & The Desperados – The Rain Fell Down (Narodnik Records, 1987)
Fran Schoppler (vocal), Andrew Tully (guitar/vocal), Kevin McMahon (guitar), Stuart Clarke (guitar), Angus McPake (bass), Margarita Vasquez-Ponte (drums)
mp3: The Fizzbombs – Sign On The Line (Narodnik Records, 1987)
Katy Lironi (vocal), Margarita Vasquez-Ponte (guitar/backing vocals), Ann Donald (bass), Angus McPake (drums)
mp3: The Motorcycle Boy – Big Rock Candy Mountain (Rough Trade, 1987)
Alex Taylor (vocals), Michael Kerr (guitar), Dave Scott (guitar), Eddie Connelly (bass), Paul McDermott (drums)
The book is available direct from Spinout Publications for £17.99 plus P&P. Click here to do so. Trust me, you’ll have a fine time, not just reading all that Saskia has to offer, but going down the inevitable rabbit holes listening to the music.
THE NEW VINYL VILLAIN 
Great writing (which is usually the result of great thinking)
Of course, I also like the music. Especially the songs by the Shop Assistants and Motorcycle Boy, which I think is mostly due to Alex Taylor. There’s a ‘Velocity Dance Mix’ of ‘Big Rock Candy Mountain’, but it’s actually no more danceable than the 7″ mix. That’s simply not possible.
P.S.: Unlike you, I’ve made the wrong decisions in (almost) every important moment of my life, which makes me a kind of anti-matter to you. So if we ever meet by chance, we will notice it for a very brief moment.