Dead Men Don’t Lie Interview with Play Dead from Melody Maker, May 14th 1983
By Steve Cross
"There was this Radio 4 show and they got around to discussing mental illness and the like, and someone said that if they wanted to get all the looneys together in one place, all the had to do was build a bloody great wall around Banbury, and that would take care of most of the country!"
Rob peers at me myopically through his tinted glasses and laughs heartily. There’s something unnervingly spectacular about his laugh…two members from his band, Play Dead come from Banbury.
If someone ever does try to put Radio 4’s theory into practice and turn Banbury into a giant modern-day Bedlam, then we should all make damn sure Play Dead shoot off into the sunset before the first brick is laid. This band (the other two members are from Oxford) create an invigorating, heady brew of music, deep brooding and above all, thoughtful. To some ears it could sound depressing, but the band themselves don’t agree.
"The songs cover a wide span lyrically," says Rob (they discount surnames in order to enhance their mystic). "But they’re all to do with emotions. In an abstract way, there’s a connection between them. Generally speaking, people isolate themselves from deep emotions because they tend to be mourrnful and threatening - we hope people can listen to these songs and connect with them, and say to themselves ‘There’s someone out there who feels the same way I do after all.’"
Play Dead originally came together in late 1980, and after only six weeks quickly secured a deal with Fresh Records.
Rob: "It was a choice between them and 4AD, but 4AD were getting a bit snowed under then. They were going mad, signing all sorts of small bands in the wake of Bauhaus and Modern English, and when Fresh came up with the single and tour offer, we went for it. We thought they were a real record company then!"
With a mere seven songs to their knowledge, they were straight away whisked on to a tour of the nation’s bogs, third on the bill to UK Decay and The Dark, garnering polite responses from bemused audiences. Just after the end of the tour (mid 1981) the line-up stabilized to its present incarnation with the recruitment of the heavily-tattooed guitarist and Danny Baker lookalike Steve. A second single ‘TV Eye", was released, though bassist Pete comments mysteriously: "That record is nothing to do with us. We’d like to blot it out of our minds."
And then, just as things showed signs of gathering momentum - deafening silence. Nothing. Bugger all.
Nineteen eighty-two was a year to forget for Play Dead. Their problems arose from the folding of Fresh. This, to put it poetically, cocked things up a treat. The band too their name literally as they went into hibernation, playing no gigs and not even rehearsing for three months. A single recorded in April, "Propaganda", was in the can, unable to be released due to the hassles. Many people thought the band were gone for good.
But from the ashes of Fresh, rose Jungle, run by some of the good guys still afloat after the previous debacle. Play Dead’s Fresh contract was carried through to the new organisation, and eventually, after an eight-month delay, "Propaganda" finally limped onto the shelves, just in time to get lost in the pre-Christmas rush. Indeed, it was released to favourable reviews, including one from MM’s own answer man to the Michelin Tyre Man, Paul Strange, who in an unprecedented attack of good taste, gave it single of the week accolade.
Phew! And that brings us up to date with our heroes waving goodbye (they hope) to a past beset with troubles and ushering in a more encouraging future. They are just starting a British tour and have an album out this week.
"In the beginning, I think things happened a bit too fast for us." Says Rob. "We hadn’t really established our sound, and it took us a little while to overcome that. Then things began to go wrong, which as pretty soul destroying, but all the time through the crisis, certain people in the Fresh/Jungle operation had faith in us. They saw something that was going to come through sooner or later."
The album, "First Flower", is, in fact, a mini LP, selling at mid-price (shades of Danse Society), consisting of five newly-recorded tracks plus a beefed-up "Propaganda"
"All of our singles have been delayed for various reasons, but this actually represents the group as it is right now." Says drummer Wiff, of the unruly Medusa-like thatch that could loosely be termed a hairstyle. "In fact, some of the songs probably weren’t quite ready to be recorded when we went into the studio, but the pressure of not having much time has helped us to sharpen them up."
One of the immediately noticeable qualities of the single is the upfront, impressive dynamic production of Roy Rowland. All the group enthusiastically endorse Rowland’s contribution to the direct, punchy sound on the single and are pleased to have him at the helm for the album as well.
"We see him as an extra member of the band, really, " explains Rob. "We work from opposite ends of the spectrum - neither of us listen to the same things and so we’ve got very different influences and ideas. He can get the sort of sound that has an impact even coming out of a little portable radio."
"We used this time for a bit of experimentation as well, " remarks Pete in his pleasant rural burr. "You know, unusual percussion - scaffold poles and things - and a few ‘special effects’, but the lack of time has restricted us a bit in that area. It’s a shame, because you can only thing in a concentrated way in the studio."
Supporting this hive of recorded activity (they also have a track, "Blood Stains Pleasure" on the forthcoming compilation "The Whip"), the Dead ones are looking forward to the gigs. Like most bands, they enjoy live work. The only problem is trying to get it.
There’s a gleam of light at the end of the tunnel, though, as the single seems to have alerted a few hundred spirits in other bands who have rung up with promises of support work. Indeed, while we’re chatting, a ‘phone call comes in from Southern Death Cult, who enthuse wildly over "Propaganda".
It’s nice to hear that we’re appreciated by other bands, but I don’t know really if their audience would be into us," comments Rob to my surprise. Play Dead, it seems, are very aware, and very wary of, becoming ensnared in the tribal/positive punk traps springing up at the moment, refuting any tags applied to their own music.
Fair comment - but having seen them support Sex Gang and gain a healthy response, I think that their fears are unfounded. There’s also the added advantage of being able to ride on the back of this so-called tidal wave should they want (what dongler invented the term positive punk anyway?), but the band have their own views on the topic.
"UK Decay were the forerunners, the influence on all these new bands, and look what happened to them. They achieved a certain amount, and then couldn’t break through any further," says Rob. "We don’t mind being put in that grain of music I suppose, because at least it’s thoughtful, but I don’t think we’re necessarily similar, and categories of any sort are so restricting."
"The thing is, "continues Wiff, "that people like Death Cult and Sex Gang are also only going to appeal to a narrow type of audience. I think that we’re more varied."
So what bands do they thing would best complement their intended appeal? Wiff thinks for a moment, before offering The Birthday Party and Gang Of Four. Pete’s suggestion less obvious.
"I think someone like Hanoi Rocks could suit us quite well," he says thoughtfully. "They really do get a wide cross section of people at their gigs, and that’s what we want to aim at - as many different types of people as possible We just want people to give us a fair hearing."
