PUNK WAS ROTTING in the shallow grave it had dug for itself; spotty adolescents were falling prey to spandexed hod-carriers from Barnsley like Saxon; and the New Romantics were perpetrating the most heinous fashion atrocities since Elton John decided he looked good in a feather boa and 10" platforms.
All was not well in England's green and pleasant chart land. Desperate measures were needed to stem the tide of mediocrity and that, King Canute-style, is precisely where Madness came in. With suits as sharp as their number three crops and a musical heritage that owed as much to downtown Kingston as it did the backstreets of London, the Nutty Boys embarked on a six year orgy of pop promiscuousness which at its peak had even cynical observers mumbling something about "the new Beatles".
The trouble with being so gloriously reckless is that when you do decide to calm down and address the more serious things in life, you're inevitably branded a party pooper.
"There was an element of that," admits founder member Chas Smash who, apart from a few extra pounds and the odd wrinkle, looks exactly the same as he did when the magnificent seven first moseyed into Camden Town. "Part of our audience grew up with us but there was another section that found it hard coming to terms with songs like 'One Better Day' and 'Yesterday's Men' which were quite mellow and not in the least bit 'wacky'. It was partly our own fault - I'd hardly call 'My Girl' or 'Grey Day' frivolous but there was always a lighthearted video or a silly dance to go with them and some people couldn't let go of that.
"That was a small part of it though. Barso (Mick Barson, one of Madness' principle songwriters) had left and it took a couple of years for the ramifications to trickle through and we got into the bad habit of doing tours that lost money and did absolutely nothing for our careers. There was a particularly nightmarish one of Australia which really did our heads in and we came home wondering 'what's the point?'. We'd spent, what, 12 or 13 years flogging our guts out and we were knackered.
During that time, everything was 'for the band' and we decided it was time we started doing stuff for ourselves and our families."
At this juncture, I think I should point out that 'Chas Smash' has reverted to the name given to him by his parents, Cathal Smyth. I'm taking a wild, impetuous guess here but would I be right in assuming that there's a spot of Irish blood coursing through his cockney veins?
"Less of the cockney bit, mate!" laughs, er, Cathal. "Both my parents are Irish. Dad was an engineer who moved round a lot and we lived in Dublin, Bray, Sligo and Coleraine before going over to London. I changed my christian name because nobody at school could pronounce it and I kept having the piss taken out of me. The reason I'm here now is that I want to show my girlfriend and two kids where I'm from."
The tabloid journalist in me would love to regale you with tales of drunken brawls and bitter lawsuits but the rather dull fact of the matter is that when Madness opted to go their separate ways in 1988, they were still the best of mates. Most of them maintained their ties with the music business - Suggs went off to manage scallydelic merchants The Farm, Woody took his drumsticks with him and joined Voice of the Beehive and Chris Foreman and Lee Thompson decided to return to their ska roots as, appropriately enough, The Nutty Boys. Cathal, meanwhile, reversed roles and became an A...R man for Go! Discs.
"I went and saw a friend of mine, Dave Balfe, who used to be in Teardrop Explodes and now runs the Food label. He's a born pessimist, which is why I value his advice, and he suggested that I get involved with the industry-side of things. A few eyebrows were raised but it was actually quite a logical progression - I'd been through it all with Madness and was able to pass on that first-hand experience to the bands I was looking after. I was more involved in that aspect than acquisitions but I did sign The Stairs who are a sort of Stonesy R'n'B outfit."
I haven't a clue what A...R men earn these days but I'm sure it's a lot less than a working musician who's notched up 15 consecutive top 10 hits and sold-out venues that you could happily fit the Point into a dozen times over and still have room left for the F.A.I. Cup Final. Was the decision to reform last year purely a monetary one?
"Virgin own the rights to all the back catalogue and when they told us they were releasing another 'Best Of...', we decided to get involved so that we could monitor what they were doing and make sure it didn't get tacky. We agreed to do the t.v. commercial which was grand. Then the album went straight in at number one and we thought 'what the fuck, let's give it another go'. We're better equipped now to cope with the pressures - production and finance and the legal side of things are no longer the mysteries they used to be and if it all gets out of hand, we'll be able to deal with it."
Can you name a band who, in your opinion, were better the second time around than the first.
"To be honest, I haven't given it much thought," he says with a hint of embarrassment. "Er...(long pause)...no, no I can't. What it boils down to isn't so much age as whether you can still cut it. Look at James Brown - he's 64 or 65 and one of the best live performers in the world."
Would you, for instance, have lashed out #20 last year if the rumours had proved to be true and the Sex Pistols had gotten back together?
"Yeah, I reckon so. Partly for the nostalgia and partly because I saw PIL at the Town ... Country recently and John Lydon hasn't lost any of the energy or charisma he had in the seventies. I'd go and see The Velvet Underground too - it might be twenty years since they did anything as a band but Lou Reed and John Cale have brought out some brilliant solo albums and are well able to entertain a crowd.
"I'd be a fucking liar if I said money wasn't an issue but, honestly, there's no way I'd be here now if I thought that by reforming we were sullying Madness' name."
Having caught them at the Wembley Arena before Christmas, I'm pleased to report that the Madness live experience is still as intense, if not as intimate, as the last time I moonstomped to them 15 years ago in a sweaty Islington boozer. The downside was the presence of the same seig heilling meatheads who unilaterally allied themselves to the band during the seventies because they thought their skinhead image meant they were racist.
"I'm sick and tired of the subject", says Smyth wearily, "but it obviously needs clarifying again. Our first hit was a tribute to a Jamaican singer, Prince Buster. We took our name from one of his songs and we were part of the 2-Tone thing which also involved The Specials and The Selecter who both had black members. We're not and never have been racists - what happens is that the little shits behind the National Front and the British Movement latch on to anything that they feel can be exploited. Your average skinhead isn't the problem, it's the men in suits hanging round the peripheries who are the danger."
What about the violence at the Edinburgh show which lead to a mass police presence and the house lights being switched on half-way through the evening?
"That was more of a football thing, not directly connected to us and involving a group of Hibs fans. The fights started during The Farm's set - they had hassle the last time they were up - and were to do with petty club rivalries that I don't begin to understand."
I'm not trying to conduct a witch hunt but I have to ask: what did Madness make of Morrissey getting bottled off stage at the 'Madstock' gig in Finsbury Park? Were the press right in criticising him for coming on with a Union Jack and performing in front of a skinhead backdrop or did they over-react?
"Put it this way", he replies earnestly, "if we started waving a Union Jack around, we'd be crucified by the media and understandably so. That's not our bag though - I think our music and the way we conduct ourselves speaks for itself and if you want to know what Morrissey's intentions were, he's the bloke to ask.
"I was quite surprised by the reaction he got. He's a friend of our's and I thought he was good for the bill but he chose to present himself a certain way and he has to live with that."
Madness' Sunday night appearance at Feile will be one of their last before locking themselves away in the studio and deciding whether there's any mileage left in the reunion. Assuming the answer's in the affirmative, they'll be getting down to the serious business of recording a new album almost immediately.
"We're going to do some demos in September and if the old magic and power's still there, we'll go get ourselves a deal. Otherwise, we'll knock it on the head before we become an embarrassment. If you overdo the 'greatest hits' bit, you run the risk of taking the piss and turning into Gary Glitter.
"We've rented a little place in Camden where we meet and throw ideas around. Our approach to writing is the same now as it's always been - someone comes up with a tune, someone else thinks of the lyrics and then there's a free-for-all until the song's fully finished. It's too early to tell what direction we're heading in - that's going to be as much a surprise for us as it is you. We're still big ska and Motown fans and being a Muswell Hill lad, I'm not adverse to borrowing the odd idea from The Kinks and Rod Stewart."
Does the set you're going to play in Thurles differ much from what we heard on your last Irish tour?
"Jeez, I can't remember that far back! We tend not to do the rowdier stuff like 'Chipmunks Are Go', and there are a couple of new numbers we're breaking in, but otherwise it's pretty much all the old favourites.
"What I've enjoyed", Cathal enthuses, "is re-discovering the strengths and simplicity of those songs. Towards the end of Madness mk. 1, we changed a lot of the arrangements to keep it fresh and interesting but now we've gone back to the way they were originally written and they sound better for it."
And have you aged gracefully yourselves?
"Well, there's a nurse and an oxygen tent on permanent stand-by but we haven't needed it yet. One thing I must warn you though, is don't be upset by Suggs' appearance. We keep on telling him that male pattern baldness and obesity are nothing to be ashamed of but, God bless him, he's having a hard time dealing with it."
Chrome-domes and wobble-bottoms aside, Madness' Sunday night blow-out promises to be one of the highlights of Féile '93. As for crowd etiquette, I'm reminded of an old Nutty Boys' t-shirt slogan - Fuck art, let's dance!