While it’s accepted rock ‘n’ roll practice for its stars to behave badly from time to time, Primal Scream’s 2004 visit to the Dublin Red Box tested the loyalty of even their most fervent Irish fans.
Not content with presiding over a shambles of a set – drink was almost certainly taken – Bobby Gillespie treated us to a pub-bore dissertation on the North and how it's "our Iraq". As for the after-show, well, we’ll spare him further embarrassment.
“It weren’t a classic, were it?” admits his Scream Team colleague Mani. “When things fall apart like that, you have to go 'Fuck it!' and make sure the next time you're in town you play a stormer. As for what Bobby said, that’s just him trying to get a rise out of people. He’s the King Of Wind-Ups but he didn’t mean nothing by it.”
Has there ever been an occasion when somebody else in the band has taken him to one side and gone, “Tone it down, Bob”?
“No, there’s never been any need for us to police each other. I’ve said some outrageously mental things in me time, but that’s what comes from being a gobshite and probably having too much to drink!”
Verbal contretemps are one thing, but Gillespie was left with two black eyes and a broken nose last week after someone objected to his presence in a Madrid bar. The pain will hopefully have been eased by the fact that the Primals’ new album, Riot City Blues, is their biggest seller since 1991’s landmark Screamadelica.
“All the years we’ve put into rock ‘n’ roll – and there’s a lot of ‘em at this stage – have lead to this point,” Mani reflects. “The positivity is awesome – not just from the band, but also radio and the record company who are pushing it like we’re the Arctic Monkeys or summat!”
Talking of which, would Mr. Mounfield agree that Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not is one of the finest British debuts since The Stone Roses?
“Fuckin’ great band! I can imagine that being a teenager and listening to ‘em is the same as it was for me back in ’76 with The Clash. The reason I love the Monkeys is that they’ve usurped the power from the industry and done it themselves using the internet. That wisdom usually comes when you’ve been ripped off a few times, not as a teenager and just starting out. They’re far more fuckin’ clued-in than the Roses were at their age.”
Mani is rather less convinced by Pete Doherty.
“He’s a cheeky monkey who knows how to play the press, but I wish it was about the music rather than the other shit he gets up to. I don’t want to see him die ‘cause he’s a lovely, talented guy. Mick Jones, who knows his onions, has faith in Pete Doherty, so hopefully he’ll come good.”
Talking of newspapers, was Mani surprised to see his ex-bandmate Kevin Shields on the front of the Camden New Journal giving out about a noisy neighbour?
“Kevin Shields complaining about noise pollution is so psychedelic it’s beyond words,” he cackles. “You say 'ex-' but he’s never really left the Scream. ‘Cause this record’s more organic and less gripped by madness, he was free to be a busy boy elsewhere. The fun and absolute sonic shenanigans we had making Xtrmntr and Evil Heat were all down to Kevin. He fired everything in to the computer and the songs came out the other end.
“I have no doubt that we’ll work together again in the very near future – the Scream is for life, not just for Christmas!”
As one maverick genius temporarily left the fold, another joined.
“I presume you’re referring to Warren Ellis?”
We are indeed.
“We had a mad, twisted country tune (‘Hell’s Comin’ Down’) that needed fiddle and, having gigged before with The Bad Seeds, we knew he was the man for the job. He’s like us – a three chord rock ‘n’ roller looking for a good time.”