IF JULIAN Cope didn't already exist, nobody would've invented him. The spaceman has cometh in many guises over the last 15 years: flight-jacketed Scott Walker obsessive, collector of psychedelic Nuggets and Pebbles, krautrock authority, maggot-brained space cadet and now, modern antiquary - Julian belongs to a long and very zig-zag line of English eccentrics, one that stretches right back from Barrett through Byron to Blake.
I'd like to introduce, in the newly spot-lit corner, Julian Cope, the man who opens his mouth on behalf of The Teardrop Explodes. Or more specifically, Julian would like to introduce himself as, perhaps the future of rock 'n' roll.
Former Smiths drummer Mike Joyce talks about playing Dublin back in the day with Morrissey and co, his hugely impressive list of musical collaborations, and the joys of life behind the kit.
Psychic and physical disintegration! Quacks, pulsars and Marshall amps! The sound of the end of space and time! And, oh yes, silly song titles too! Welcome to the world of WAYNE COYNE and The Flaming Lips. Interview: Peter Murphy.
In the second and final part of an extensive interview, MIKE SCOTT discusses inspiration and influences, recalls his difficult solo years and explains the death and resurrection of THE WATERBOYS. Interview: PETER MURPHY
With 1993 going down as the year that Irish rock finally emerged from U2’s shadow, HOT PRESS takes an introductory look at four of the rapidly emerging outfits that are poised to make headlines and sell bucket–loads of records in ’94.
Schtum, Ash, Joyrider, Compulsion.
Pop must always, always be stupid – stupid as in not understanding the rules, as in running blind, as in stupid with desire, stupid with joy, as in stupefied. That kind of stupid. Supergrass, then, are the most unremittingly stupid band I have ever met.” – Taylor Parkes, Melody Maker
t's difficult to conceive of a more suitable environment for Decal's moody electronica or Coil's foreboding ambient compositions than the baroque surroundings of City Hall
The decision by the DEAF organisers to take electronic music out of the clubs and into more unorthodox venues is increasingly looking like a masterstroke. It's difficult to conceive of a more suitable environment for Decal's moody electronica or Coil's foreboding ambient compositions than the baroque surroundings of City Hall.
