Records and recordings in post-punk England, 1978–80

Summary

In 1978 if you played in a Manchester ‘new wave’ band, like I did, you recorded in two ways. You spent eight hours in an antiseptic radio studio taping four songs for what were called ‘Peel sessions’ (whether or not they were for use by John Peel, the kingpin BBC Radio 1 DJ, on his nightly orgy of the aural ‘other’). Otherwise you made records, mainly seven-inch vinyl 45 rpm singles or ‘extended play’ (EP) discs, often packaged in a picture-cover sleeve designed with either little thought (New Hormones label) or too much (Factory Records). Compilation discs, where groups shared track space with others, were an accepted way of gaining attention and they showed the inclination at that time for collective action. Live ‘gigs’ built up a local audience, the radio sessions a national one, but the records brought you local, national and international attention in one bound.

However, bands like ours – which sought to be ‘creative’ in the recording studio – soon encountered an unexpected problem. One night we played in a Munich club where a fan asked for a certain song from one of our records. We obliged. Afterwards she complained that we hadn't met her request. We insisted we had. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I didn't hear it. You know, the one with the bells.’ Ah, the bells, on the record: ‘Sadly we didn't bring our tubular bells to Bavaria.’ To her mind the song was what she heard on the disc, not what we, who made it, played before her ears and eyes. So much for authenticity.