Page 26 - the NOISE August 2013

diSneY’S dReam deBaSed
The Fall was/is a punk rock band from Manchester. For over 30 years, their one constant has been singer/lyricist Mark E. Smith. Smith prides himself on being an ornery and contrary bastard. He has driven away nearly every one of the 40+ mu- sicians that have passed through The Fall. His is a singular vision. Smith may be a genius or he may be an asshole, but both are notoriously hard to work with.
In the late 1970’s punk era, British DJ and tastemaker John Peel put The Fall on his show because they were the worst, most inept group he had ever heard. Three or four Peel Ses- sions later, he realized they might be onto something extraor- dinary. They ended up becoming his favorite band.
Mark E. Smith and guitarist Martin Bramah formed The Fall when they were teens. Smith had a singing range of about 1 1/2 notes and delivered his lyrics in a thick impenetrable Man- cunian accent. The original lineup splintered after a few LPs and Smith drafted in new musicians to keep The Fall going. He nurtured a reputation of being difficult, violent and mean. He could also be the best mate you ever had, if you stayed on
his good side.
By early 1983, The Fall’s sound was growing impressive
indeed, but the band were on the verge of breaking up due to infighting. The group had a sh*t deal with Rough Trade Records and by their sixth LP, Room To Live, they all had had about enough.
Mark’s girlfriend, The Fall’s manager, had booked a summer tour of America. After the dates were set, it was discovered that drummer Karl Burns was not yet 18, and therefore too young for a work visa. Smith did not want to sack Burns, the one holdout from the original lineup, so he made a prom- ise: The Fall would fulfill their U.S. gigs with bassist Stephen Hanley’s brother Paul on drums, but on returning to England, Burns would be back in. Karl had seen Mark fire nearly a half- dozen people over the past five years, and so he took Smith’s words with a grain of salt.
Just prior to leaving, Smith and his girlfriend broke up. Now they had no manager. The American tour was poorly pro- moted and the band’s records were hard to find in stores. The first few East Coast shows were attended by barely anyone. Morale was at an all-time low, although Paul Hanley was a fine drummer and clicked with the rest of the group. Smith hoped they could finish the tour without someone quitting.
Mark E. Smith met Brix in Chicago. Laura Salenger was nick- named after “The Guns Of Brixton”, her favorite Clash tune. She played guitar and bass, wrote songs, and sang in a band. She had acquired a few of The Fall’s imported LPs and excit- edly attended the Chicago show with a friend.
The band was great, but their singer made Brix frustrated. Mark E. Smith was not a typical frontman. He mumbled lyrics, never smiled (nor did the rest of the group) and didn’t even face the audience half the time. It was riveting. The rancor
the fall
coming off these men as they played was nearly overwhelm- ing in the small room. Brix hoped that seeing The Fall live would help unlock the puzzle of Smith’s words, but it only got worse.
Her friend had hooked up with a guy at the venue and abandoned Brix. Alone after the show, she was hanging out at the bar when Mark E. Smith sat down next to her. She com- plimented the group and berated the singer for his lack of showmanship. Smith was amused. He offered to buy her a drink and one thing led to another.
The next day, Brix left on tour with The Fall as Mark E. Smith’s new girlfriend. The rest of the band noticed the change in their vocalist immediately. He was almost pleasant to be around. Brix sat in on their rehearsals and began contributing ideas. Mid-tour, Smith announced that Brix was joining The Fall. Oh, and they were getting married, too.
Luckily, Brix’s presence pulled The Fall out of their slump. She cut a striking figure. She was perky and cute with great fashion sense, smart and sincere and a hell of a good musi- cian. Outspoken, but not bitchy. Brix took the time to get to know the lads and one by one, they all warmed to her.
Upon returning home, Mark E. Smith married Brix. Karl Burns was asked if he would be willing to share the stage with Paul Hanley. Burns agreed and The Fall now had two drum- mers and a chick. Smith told Rough Trade to kiss his arse and signed with Beggar’s Banquet, home of Bauhaus and it was a much more supportive label. He and Brix were writing songs in a frenzy and the band went in the studio with hotshot pro- ducer John Leckie.
Brix softened The Fall’s sharp edges. She provided some well-needed glamour. She convinced the boys to get haircuts and to wear nice clothing onstage and for photoshoots. She brought a pop sensibility and an American “let’s write some hits” attitude. It wasn’t crass, Brix genuinely loved The Fall’s music and only wanted to make it better.
The band was beginning to look like they could make it big one day. Many British and European journalists who had previously written off The Fall as abrasive and talentless louts were forced to reevaluate their positions as they wondered what this pretty Yank punkette with the frosted hair saw in this bunch of miserable geezers.
In late 1983, the BBC’s hip music programme The Tube asked John Peel if he would be willing to guest host a show. He re- plied he would do it for free if he could bring a band along.
He brought The Fall. It was their first nationwide (British) TV appearance and the debut of their new lineup. They opened with the atonal and undanceable “Smile”, the two drummers pounding relentlessly at their kits as the in-studio teens stood and stared. Then Brix appeared, plugged in her guitar, and the group launched into the extremely danceable “2 By 4”. The au- dience, wound up from the tension of the previous song, let loose. The press raved.
During a break in recording, the newlyweds took a quick
26 • AUGUST 2013 • the NOISE arts & news • thenoise.us