The Psychedelic Furs
The Psychedelic Furs are back and currently preparing to once again unleash their distinctive brand of smartly tripped-out grooves for audiences. Reforming after 10 years gone, the Furs are headlining a spring tour in support of Sony/Legacy releasing The Psychedelic Furs Greatest Hits. In addition, the band is working on a bundle of brand-new songs that will be recorded later this year.

During the Furs’ first tenure (1978-91) the group garnered tremendous respect from critics and fans alike for the music’s unpredictable mix of punk rock, poetic lyricism and seductive rhythmic hooks. Fronted by vocalist and chief songwriter, Richard Butler, the Furs earned a reputation as one of the most riveting musical forces to come out of the early 80s post-punk, new wave era. The band charted big hits with “Love My Way,” “Pretty In Pink,” “Heaven,” and “The Ghost In You,” in all releasing seven studio albums on Columbia and spawning several compilations including a box set in 1997, “Should God Forget: A Retrospective.”

In their finest moments on albums including 1980’s Talk, Talk, Talk and 1984’s Mirror Moves, Butler’s husky vocals and often-brooding lyrics ingeniously intertwined with the edgy musical textures provided by brother Tim Butler on bass and John Ashton on guitar. Even when their releases didn’t scorch the Top 10, Furs records remained innovative and adventurous force in early alternative music and maintained a steady presence on college radio.

Through it all, Butler’s rubbery baritone yowl became one of the 80’s most recognizable sounds, often managing to be both introspective and aloof at the same time. It was quirky and darkly cynical faire that expressed the detachment of the times and the itchy struggle of a generation to find meaning in the turbulent headwaters of what would later become the dawn of Information Age. Gaining much of their fame as part of MTV’s first wave of video artists, Butler and company will be forever identified with a time when the stale musical paradigms of 70s were forever cast aside and replaced by the new rock of an angrier and faster world.

Throughout the Fur’s reign, critics routinely compared the group’s enigmatic sound to an impressive slew of art-rock icons including David Bowie, The Velvet Underground and The Doors, as well as to punk progenitors, The Sex Pistols. Growing heavier and more guitar-oriented in their later releases, the Furs have since been placed loosely in the rock pantheon somewhere between early punk and the alternative hard rock and grunge that would rise in the band’s wake during the 90s.

After twelve years of recording and touring, Butler and the other band members grew tired of being the Psychedelic Furs and in 1991, they decided to go their own ways. “It was really very amicable,” Butler recalls. “We had been doing it for so long that the process became predictable. I think we all wanted to do different things. We had a great run, but after you’ve been playing ‘Pretty In Pink’ almost every night for ten years, things are bound to feel pretty old. There weren’t any surprises left, so we moved on. ”

In 1994, Butler formed a new band called Love Spit Love. The group recorded two albums and met with moderate success but never captured the sort of loyal following the Furs had enjoyed. In 1998, Butler and wife Annie had a daughter, Maggie Mozart Butler, and the artist who was once described as a wiser Johnny Rotten and a sober Jim Morrison decided to concentrate on being a parent. Spending much of his time at home in Cold Springs, New York, Butler began writing songs for a solo project.

According to Butler, it was interest in developing this wealth of new material that gave rise to the Psychedelic Furs’ second coming. “I was working on songs for a solo record, when I got together with Tim to do some writing. When he saw all the songs I had, he was pretty impressed and he asked me if I had ever thought about doing a Furs’ record. I hadn’t really given it much thought, but then our manager called and asked me if I’d be willing to do some shows. Those two things sort of coincided so it seemed like the time was right.”

During the Fur’s decade-long hiatus, guitarist John Ashton was also busy, producing and performing with the likes of Marianne Faithful, Mercury Rev and Red Betty, among others including Spiv, a local band in Ashton’s hometown of Woodstock, NY. Like the brothers Butler, Ashton says he ready to plug in again with the Psychedelic Furs.

“It’s been fun hanging out and writing Furs material again,” he says. “There’s always been great tension in energy in what we do. However, our audience has always been the other half of the story. Without them we wouldn’t be here.”

For his part, Butler says he’s warmed to the idea of tackling the old favorites as well, not only to make long-time fans happy, but also to rediscover the work itself in a fresh context. “When we decided to do this, I went back and listened to a lot of our records, and honestly, I was really surprised by how good I think they are. We did some good work and I’m really looking forward to playing those songs. I guess you could say it’s like getting to know some old friends all over again.

“I’m especially delighted to be working with Tim and John Ashton. It’s going to be interesting to see what influences we’ve all absorbed over the past few years and how those ideas will come out in the music,” Butler says.

With a career spanning the rise and fall of punk, MTV, glam metal, grunge and hip-hop, Butler is wizened and happy to be in a position to communicate with an audience. “As long as there are people, who enjoy music and have fun going to shows, there’ll be a place in the world for artists who try to do something interesting and different,” he says. “I don’t really think you can change the world making music, but it sure is nice to think that you can enable people to have a good time.”

Demand for the Furs has obviously never waned, with Sony/Legacy releasing The Psychedelic Furs Greatest Hits to coincide with their latest trek across the U.S. and Canada.

Happy Mondays
Happy Mondays, the Sly & The Family Stone of Salford, release their first album in 15 years on June 18, three band members lighter, several solo projects, two reunions and a whole lot of living later.

As legendary for their lifestyle as their unique collision of rave beats, indie rock and street poetry, the biggest surprise is probably that the band members have even survived this long. But they have, and Shaun Ryder, Bez and Gaz Whelan have a freshly minted deal with Sanctuary Records imprint Sequel and a brand new album tucked under their arms.  The biggest question on most peoples’ lips is, probably, Why now?  According to Gaz, there was no initial plan to record, but after writing some songs “for fun” it just evolved. “It was having the time to do an album,” Shaun explains further. “Everyone’s been busy just living, doing whatever they fucking have to do in their lives. We got back together in 1999 and we’ve been doing, you know, like Showaddywaddy shows. We’d never have split up in the first place if it had just been the three members in the band now back then, but the others wanted to so we did.”

Ryder admits that the shows played by various mutations of the original line-up – the “Showaddywaddy shows” he’s slightly dismissive of – happened “because a promoter asked us” rather than any artistic need, but no excuses are being made for the new album. Rockier than the Happy Mondays’ classic ‘Madchester’/baggy days, it’s still easily identifiable as their own. When they formed in 1985, Happy Mondays built their sound around hip hop beats, funky bass lines, blues guitars, samples and Ryder’s inimitable lyrics, a compelling mixture of street slang, drug gibberish and menacing sexuality. All these ingredients are still present and correct, mixed into a fine new stew by the band and their producer, Sunny Levine (son of Simply Red/Sly And The Family Stone producer Stewart and grandson of Quincy), somewhere between Hallelujah, Wrote For Luck and Step On of old and the psychedelic disco of Shaun and Bez’s post-Mondays band, Black Grape. “I’ve never really stopped doing what I do,” Ryder says, “so I don’t see much difference between Happy Mondays then, Black Grape and Happy Mondays now. We could just as easily called this Black Grape – it would have saved us loads of legal hassles - but because it was Gaz and Bez it just was the Mondays.”

The recording process, Ryder and Whelan claim, was a doddle, thanks to a newfound lack of egos and delight at being free to record what they wanted without record company involvement (they looked for a deal after making the album with their own money).

Whelan: “We kind of get started with this mishmash of ideas, and there’s no egos so we can say and do what we like. With egos you get backed into a corner, and when you’re backed into a corner you end up compromising and come from a place of negativity, er, man. So we don’t do that anymore. If someone says they don’t like that bit, alright, let’s do something else. You can’t take it personal, when you get older you don’t anyway. Well, you shouldn’t…

Gaz is under no illusion about the Mondays’ secret weapon, however.

“Often we get some tracks or musical ideas together we think are really good and then he [Shaun] comes in – he’s going to get all embarrassed now - and he just takes it to another level. You can never imagine where it’s going to go with him, but the thing is you can get away with the music being a bit cheesy because you know that once Shaun’s got hold of it, it’ll be a million times better and won’t be cheesy anymore. Never ceases to amaze me.”

The other helping hand is that the Mondays are – drum roll please – clean and straight, a far cry from their last album, 1992’s Yes Please!, during which their notoriously dissolute lives eventually led to the band’s demise. Ryder in particular is the picture of health, a family man who’s substituted a mountain bike for the bong.  “We’re all too old for that shit now,” Shaun says. “I have to admit, though, that this is the first time I’ve ever been out in this business – and I’ve been in this business since I was 18 – that I’ve done it straight, not using crack or heroin or whatever. It’s fucking terrifying! No, it’s great, until you go and do interviews and sit there and not have anything to say.”

It’s unlikely Shaun Ryder will ever have nothing to say. His lyrics have inspired Manic Street Preachers to namecheck him in song, Blur’s Damon Albarn to collaborate with him on the second Gorillaz album and invite him to tour America with the cartoon band, and given voice to millions of fucked up estate kids just like him. Former Factory records boss Tony Wilson and U2’s Bono have also heaped praise on his lyrics, Wilson comparing Ryder to WB Yeats, Bono claiming the Mondays singer as one of the greatest lyricists of all time.

The self-effacing Ryder, however, would rather you didn’t read too much into what he’s saying.

“You know when people write them Whitesnake songs,” he says, “y’know, songs that are not really about anything significant? Well, that’s what my songs are about. There’s no hidden message or meaning, it’s just good time rock’n’roll, which is what we’ve always done, really.

So you’re the hip hop Whitesnake?
“Maybe the hip hop Black Sabbath, that’s a bit cooler. Or Rainbow,” he says with a self-mocking laugh.

“Stop there, man,” Whelan interjects, “you were on a roll: no bullshit, no hidden messages, no deep meaning, no politics, just good time rock’n’roll. I’ll sign that!”