The Very Early Days 1982 Pre Slab
Slab history starts with Stephen Dray moving into a flat in Leamington Spa with Dave Morris and a guy called Noel. It was a very hot summer and we were hungry and pretty much penniless. We wrote a few songs together, Noel was learning bass. We auditioned for a drummer and got Chris Baker. We rehearsed, recorded a demo and then Noel’s limitations proved too glaring. So we advertised in the NME and along came a 15/16-year-old wunderkind called Bill Davies. We took the name Workforce. This band played quite a few gigs around Leamington Spa and the surrounding area; we expanded to include a trombonist called Harry and a saxophonist Paul Howard. Quite what happened to this line up I'm not sure. I think Harry decided to leave, Paul Howard wasn’t permanent, and if my memory serves me well Chris Baker was already playing with some other band. I think at this point Dave Morris did one of his all too regular vanishings in the name of money. That left me and Bill and the start of Slab.
Early Slab 1984 Dray and Davies Bill and I listened to everything we could we became good friends and devoured music. We particularly liked Material because of the experimental aspect of their grooves. We liked John Coltrane and Roland Kirk, hours were spent listening to Archie Shepp, Cecil Taylor, Funkadelic, but we listened to all kinds of music and my main influence was always The Stooges because of their nihilism. I think it is safe to say we both had an idea that we wanted to do very heavy grooves with some experimentalism. We started writing at Bill’s parents house. Bill would improvise a groove and I would structure them. Our first official Slab track was an instrumental called Boiler Dog. It consisted of a bass riff and cut up tape sounds. We recorded it in a 4-track studio in Leamington Spa with a guy called Tim Ellis (later of Jackdaw With Crowbar) who was probably the most creative sound engineer I ever worked with. We quickly wrote, Parallax Avenue and Dust. I used a lyric from Paul Jarvis for Parallax Avenue. Bill and I recorded those two songs with Tim Ellis again and they sounded awesome. Both using drum machines. Bill and I wanted to gig as we knew we had something very special. So we stuck the drum machine backing onto a cassette. However we knew we needed more than just me and him and a battery of cassette decks and found sounds.
Enter Paul Jarvis Paul was a friend of mine I’d met in 1983. We just got on - about films, books, music, art, politics, football, what was and wasn’t great etc, it was intuitive, we didn’t have to try. We spent hours in my loft room listening to music and talking. I think Paul was writing lyrics at this time. I liked em. At the same time Bill and I needed something to make our heavy grooves a little nastier – my Stooges influence at work here. What I envisioned was a kind of Blixa Bargeld approach to guitar. I’d seen Neubauten’s first gig in London a few years previously and been stunned. Paul had the right attitude, we were friends and even better he couldn’t play guitar and didn’t own one. I had always been impressed by Cecil Taylor’s comment that once you had learned your instrument you have to unlearn it. We sorta bypassed that one heh heh. So Paul joined us for a gig. With no rehearsals, having never played guitar. We borrowed one, a nice one; he tortured it, stuck knitting needles in it, hurt it bad…. It was at Hintons Wine Bar in Leamington Spa, we played for 20 mins a barrage of noise, dry ice, found sounds, Bill’s murderously heavy bass and backing tracks with me over the top of it. It was fantastic. Probably one of the best Slab gigs ever, certainly the most extreme and experimental.
Mars On Ice The next song written was Mars On Ice. Bill had bought a Roland 303 and was playing bass along to it. He came up with a series of bass parts, I put them together and found a lyric from Paul. The structure began to grow. I played saxophone over a few parts. Mars On Ice started with Bill’s harmonics through Fuzz, Chorus and whatever else and it always knocked people sideways. No one could believe you could make these noises with a bass. I remember A Certain Ratio standing in amazement watching Bill soundcheck and later Jaz Coleman and Raven from Killing Joke. Robin Risso (drummer) and Hugh Rawson (trumpet) were school friends of Bill. Both were playing in another band. It was fairly obvious though from that one gig who was king of the bands in the area, we left a very indelible mark. They joined us. We rehearsed and went back to Tim Ellis’ studio to record a 4 Track demo. Now we had a band. We also had three killer tracks, Mars On Ice, Parallax Avenue and Dust. We started to send demos out to get gigs. No one sounded like us.
The Early Line Up
We developed a short set aiming to play for a max of 30 mins, wall of noise.
The early band was very loud, heavy, experimental and with Bill’s bass playing unique. Literally no one sounded like us. Also we were very young, Bill, Hugh and Robin were only 17 or 18.
The set consisted of Mars On Ice,
I think we played a handful of gigs and developed the set. The next major step was that Hugh Rawson and I took a copy of our demo,
A few days later we were signed to Ink Records to Dave Kitson. It had all happened very fast, I seem to remember that we had only played 6 gigs in total, so there was a lot of growing up in public going on – which partly explains the changes in sound so often.
The first single Mars on Ice
Hugh was hunting us gigs in London and he did the college circuit, we got gigs at Goldsmiths, ULU, the LSE and maybe some others.
Whilst his work was admirable while he was going round talking to people to get the gigs he made one big error, he likened us to Chakk (who were an industrial funk band from Sheffield and very big in the NME at that moment, and therefore very trendy – didn’t stop us from blowing them to pieces at Goldsmiths College a while later heh heh). I remember being really dismayed about this Chakk comparison, it wasn’t what we were about at all, they were dour and northern and frankly pretty bloody dull. Bill and I had seen them and come away very unimpressed by all the fuss. We weren’t industrial bleedin funk, but we were tagged with that and it still sticks. Mars On Ice was not a bloody funk record.
Anyway we played at the LSE supporting A Certain Ratio. I can still see their faces standing their watching Bill soundcheck Mars On Ice. He was in some respects like the Hendrix of bass in his use of pedals. He blew people out of the water. And to me that was what we were supposed to be about, not white boy funk bollocks with jittery skittery guitars and oh lets do the hop white kids cmon git down – NO THANK YOU.
Bill plugged in and let rip, the whole fuggin hall stood still. Hello here we are people. We were big and shiny and a tad fuggin scary and we had superman on bass.
A superman who had taken the eraserhead haircut to a very carefully sculpted extreme. A superman who could do things with a bass no one had ever done before – unfortunately he’s never got the credit – and a superman who looked fuggin cool to boot. A later review would describe how we looked as if we had escaped from the Marseillaise – the French prison for nutters… ha ha thank you thank you
Anyway, ACR were a decent bunch and liked us. They were all older than us but I think they saw the rebellion in us and they also realised we had a certain entertainment factor. So they let us support them on a few gigs.
We recorded Mars On Ice in Livingston Studios in Wood Green in
First John Peel Session We’d done a John Peel session around the time of recording Mars On Ice. We went in and did Mars On Ice, a toothless absolutely horrific and unlistenable version of Dust, so watered down as to be almost some jazzy bollocks of the original, god it shows how moderate we could be sometimes, Painting the Forth Bridge and a new song The Animals- which showed that we could push the barriers at the same time also. Until you hear the original demos you wont see the pattern, but to me there is a very strong link in the originality of those first songs, Parallax Avenue, Dust, then The Animals and what happens later on the first album Descension – which most people considered to be such a leap. It was the attitude of those first songs that Descension continues – not the bollocks that came in between. It explains a lot about the variations in the sound of the band. Excuse me chaps and fellow members here but I really felt I was struggling against mediocrity here... and the dreaded industrial funk comparisons… Its interesting that while at the same time our set was honing itself and becoming more “band friendly” we could still veer off on my more chosen path of the extreme. Bill came up with the bass line for the Animals. It was on fretless bass with the tuning taken down to the A below low E. It rumbled. I had always remembered wanting to use a train sound as a rhythm for a track. Paul’s lyrics about death camps was the perfect fit. So we played The Animals on the Peel session. It would surface several times in our career in different guises.
Second Single Parallax Avenue So we set about thinking about recording a second single. And who should come sniffing at the door but my good friend Dave Morris, a man for whom I have the greatest musical respect. I think he’d come to see a gig post Mars On Ice. Now I had known Dave for longer than all the rest in fact since 1979 and I’d been in a couple of other tiny bands with him. So we had history, friendship wise and musically. Dave was the best guitarist I knew, he could play classical guitar, he could sight read (I am a musical troglodyte – cant read music and know nothing about it – all I know is what sounds good and that I need to use different things to make those sounds, usually with no prior learning ha!), he could play loud, he could improvise, he could make one hell of a noise, he could play flamenco, he could play or work out any fuggin song you named but thank god he did not go widdly widdly and solo out of his arse. He was an incredibly talented musician – he just needed direction. So Dave came a knockin and I opened the door. Who knows whether this was wise it’s a matter of perspective.
It broke my song writing axis with Bill, which is what Slab had been founded on, but it gave us another dimension – probably not seen until Descension. So back to Livingston Studios we went to record Parallax Avenue, the shiny beast, the jewel of our early material, the song that defined us live in the early days. In the early days it was huge, fuzz bass slapped like Bootsy Collins (hence its first name of Bootsy), it rocked and reared and sparkled. It floored people and made em move at the same time. We neutered it. We strangled it at birth. We took all the fuggin life out of it and turned it into some bloated nonsense, that I cant listen to at all. But fortuitously some people liked it and bought it.
I think we did a second Peel Session at this time, however even I don’t have a copy.
As far as I remember we recorded
Third Single Smoke Rings
The early days of the band were very much gang orientated. We were very close. Myself, Bill, Hugh and Robin all lived near each other. Summer’s were spent hanging out at Bill’s or with some of the
So its Christmas Day and everyone else who lived there had gone home to their mummies and daddies, but not me - I left home at 18 and that meant I Had Left Home -I didn’t go back! So in my somewhat Stalinist ways I sat there freezing my arse off with no food and certainly no friggin Christmas cheer, but so what - that’s what I was used to, I didn’t expect anything more heh heh! Out of the blue Bill rings up and says do you want to come for Christmas dinner with his family. I was shocked, it was an act of kindness I wasn’t used to, certainly didn’t expect and to this day I still get a feeling in my throat that he thought enough to do it. It may seem nothing to anyone reading this but it sure meant a lot to me. I was used to spending Christmas on my own, didn’t enjoy it but put on a brave face and continued to do so for years to come, but it meant so much that someone actually asked me. Bill came and picked me up and as I walked through the door his dad offered me a whisky. To me this symbolises the closesness that we had in the early version of Slab when it was me, Bill, Paul, Hugh and Robin.
Anyway that closeness was beginning to drift by the time of Smoke Rings for a variety of reasons.
Bill was in Salford with Neill, Robin still lived in Kenilworth, Hugh was in Deptford, I was in Chiswick, Paul in Hammersmith and Dave in Walthamstow. I’d known Dave for a long time and Paul and I were pretty damned close, so it was only natural the 3 of us started to hang out together.
As a consequence we started writing together. Previously I’d sat in Bill’s bedroom and we’d worked out songs. We didn’t really write a lot in rehearsals, the odd track would come out, but now that Bill was in Salford I wasn’t gonna pop up there for a quick cup of tea and create some masterpiece. So Dave Morris came up with a bass part that became Smoke Rings. The riff coulda gone any way it wanted, coulda been murderously heavy, coulda been anything…
..... but Dave Kitson our record company boss wanted something “commercial” Oh yeah, commercial, that’s why I’m doing this cos I wanna be in a fuggin boy band? I think not me hearties.
I wanna make people fuggin think, I wanna make people question, I wanna try and create something no one’s done before, and I quite fancy being friggin loud while I’m doing it and if we get to be popular that’s great but its not about moolah, it is not about moolah at all. Its about emotions, its about feelings, its about indescribable sounds, its about knowing what is right and what isn’t, its about guts, its about hate, its about a fair amount of self loathing, its about a sizeable chunk of joyous revenge, its about my father dying, its about me being fugged up for years over it, its about everyone I care for, its about crying and laughing, its about being hungry and depressed and not having anyone or anywhere to go, its about walking through the streets late at night out of your head and its pissing down with rain, its about wading into the sea upto your chest fully clothed on a winters night and crying and so wishing you had the guts to just let fugging go and be carried away, its about standing in fields of swaying corn on a summers evening and just watching and listening, - all these things I’ve done and that’s what its about, its not absolutely not about money.
Well, well, well, lets give him a flipping commercial song then. So we went back to Livingston Studios and did it with some half arsed instrumental on the B side. I don’t think anyone really felt any intent in recording it. It was something that we had to churn out. The irony is that Mr Kitson would pay for it later when we delivered him Descension... that’s what you get for making me do COMMERCIAL sunny jim. Don’t get me wrong I liked Dave Kitson - we all did, he was a kind man who cared. But he had a house and a son and wife and he had to pay for that somehow so he needed to recoup some money. Unfortunately he chose the wrong vehicle. I seriously believe we coulda been very big, we had the material we just needed the right marketing - but we were making way too many mistakes, which you do when you’re young and inexperienced and have no money whatsoever. Also the press just didnt seem to have a clue about what we were.... Actually I quite like Smoke Rings, the 7” version aint bad really, only took me 20 years to like it but like it I do now. Makes me chuckle when my young kids sing it. Of course it sold about 3 and a half copies, I have no idea actually, it probably did ok - but it wasn’t why I was doing music. To be honest I dont really know what we sold of anything. All I knew is that we were flippin poor. Ironically out of Smoke Rings came a publishing deal for the princely sum of £1500. Enough to buy a brand spanking new Akai S900 sampler and herald a new Slab. The band was dying.
Descension If people weren’t sure where we were coming from after Smoke Rings then Descension was one huge kick up their arses. Some fans have bemoaned the change in sound. But as I have said earlier logically there is little difference in the intent of the very first demos done by me and Bill , or say Mars On Ice or the Animals from what was to come on Descension. Descension just stopped being polite about it and stopped trying to please anyone. It did exactly what we wanted. But the “we” wasn’t the whole band. And that is where Descension lies in the band history. It took no prisoners from outside or within. It’s a colossal album. Still is. Can’t think of anything that sounds like it. Nothing did at the time, nothing did before and nothing has since. People still can’t classify it. Well I can. Its called SLAB. Full stop.
It was recorded and mixed in approximately 10 days in
Once everything was recorded we went back in for another week and mixed it. The recordings had been done by Tony Harris. Poor Barry Clempson, who was the mix engineer, walked in thinking he had a straightforward job to do. Wrong. We wanted to trigger the Akai sampler by every drum sound already recorded, a hideous task, involving gating and limiting everything on the kit and making sure that extraneous sounds didn’t set the samples off. Then we needed to do everything else. We had a week and we did it. No bollox. I can say overall I’m pretty happy with it. It’s all there.
If I could change anything it would’ve been to make the bass less thin on Big Sleeper as to me it’s the dominant sound there. The sound is big but not big enough. I’m not particularly enamoured of Loose Connection either. Dave, Paul and I arrived very late at the studio that day about 4pm I think we’d worked late the night before. We got there to find that Bill, Robin and Barry had already started and to my mind completely misinterpreted the track. They’d mixed everything over the loop, it wasn’t meant to be like that, the loop was meant to be the dominant force. But we were under time and money constraints and Barry said it would take too long to go back and start again. So we had to put up with it. But anyway why complain, it’s a stunning record.
Name me a record that begins with the sound of the bass guitar having had knitting needles placed in between the strings being pummelled to produce a kind of demonic fuzzed rhythm with a lyric being whispered in a death rap about a person jumping under a tube train. Hello we’re home honey. Happy little industrial funkers that we are with our jingle jangle guitars and skippity bass and cowbells…. No you morons you’ve just let Lucifer into your pants and he’s about to party. And of course it gets heavier
. When we first played an assortment of tracks to Dave Kitson he went white. But being the trouper that he was he went with it, well he had to, he had no choice, he couldn’t afford to send us back in on the instructions to write something nice and proper old chum, so that left him two options say goodbye to us or try to sell it. I remember he gave this little mixed bag to some journo friends one of whom described it as the best metal album ever made. Of course it is - cos it don’t have no widdly bollox or people wearing spandex and singing in pixie voices over the top or equally those black wearing buffoons pretending that they are so down with Satan and making growling sounds… lets face it if any of those gits walked down some of London’s streets at night they wouldn’t survive 5 minutes…ho ho…. But it aint a metal album cos I DESPISE METAL.
Nor is it the first industrial jazz album as one blogger described it. True it does have Live at Mooseland on it where we got back Chris Baker on drums and has Dave on bass and me on piano improvising for 33 mins until the tape ran out. Then we edited it to a sensible length. And we did approach the legendary British improvising pianist Keith Tippett prior to recording to see if he would play on it, he was very keen actually but it never worked out. Shame, imagine Descension with Keith Tippett…. Maaaaan Interstellar or what???
So how did this little gem come about, chance, joy de vivre, making furious notes on the backs of fag packets, careful musical notation???? Well it came about cos of the publishing deal which split the band and destroyed my friendships… Dave Morris, Paul Jarvis and I met during the summer months of 1987 around Dave’s flat in Walthamstow. We wrote furiously, Dave playing bass, me taking Paul’s lyrics and structuring the bass riffs, and the sampler. I structured the tracks, even loose things like Dr Bombay were structured to the point that we knew what was going to happen with it. Descension did what we needed, we were free from restrictions. We used heavily detuned drum sounds and the bass was tuned down to C and stuck through fuzz pedals.
Now as far as I am aware no band had ever detuned a bass down to C and put it through pedals at that time. Not a soul. We were the first and it would be nice if we got a little credit for it seeing as the world and his mate seems to have ripped off Descension in some roundabout way, usually third hand.
We also tried found sounds through Dave’s 4 track. Rachmaninov plays as the middle 8 of Gutter Busting. Dolores rides on a backwards triple pronged Public Enemy drum loop. Loose Connection surfs along on George Clinton. But I’d challenge anyone to prove it, cos we didn’t use a sampler just to copy people as most idiots were doing at that point, we were experimenting with the sonics. But these were just carrying on the original ideas I had had with Bill way back when. We experimented with sounds in the studio. The outro string/trumpet tune on Dolores I had stuck on after writing it at Dave’s. It was an old guitar motif from our first band, but we only used the reverb of the sounds so it hangs and drifts in a way that really fits the song and to me conjures up the sickness in the water supply.
So we came up with a series of gargantuan riffs. Which is what I’ve always wanted to do. Don’t matter if it be a Stooge or a John Lee Hooker, a riff is a thing of wonder.
I guess we sorta rehearsed them with Bill and Robin in our rehearsal studio up in
By this time Bill was (rightly so I guess) far than enchanted with his role or with what he was hearing. From being the central player he was marginalised and being asked to play bass parts he hadn’t written and didn’t particularly like. We had always shared a fondness for Ornette Coleman, Ronald Shannon Jackson and Jamaaladeen Tacuma, but Bill was veering quite heavily in that direction and focussing on technique, whereas me I wanted heavy heavy grooves with bouts of psychedelic freeform. Me , Paul and Dave went to see Bill Laswell’s Last Exit at their first London gig. It was mindblowing, it was sheer brutality, but by fug it grooved too and who should I be standing next to at the bar in a pretty small audience but the Ig himself. Needless to say I nicked his empty cup and took it back to the Chiswick shithole for Mr Hugo Roberts to peruse and admire. I think we may have drunk the perfect martinis from it. (Go read Luis Bunuel’s autobiography to find out how to make one)
As usual I digress, anyway I was too blind to see the effect all of this was having on my friendship with Bill. The split in the band was obvious. Robin went along cos Rob liked to play and the whole thing of being in a band was his thing. But I think he felt his days were numbered. So Decension went ahead and we fell apart as a band. The brass section had already been ditched. There was no role for them and if there was we could get the odd one off person to do studio stuff. They weren’t needed in our new world live. A long time previously I had somehow managed to blag some work for a local music PA company run by some friends in Coventry. I managed to get myself a role as drum roadie or something on a tour with King not that I had a friggin clue how to set up a kit ha!. Anyway this was the time when suddenly King had a number one single Love and Pride. The crew eg me and PA guys were all to be issued yellow Dr Martens emblazoned with Love and Pride on either foot. I had always said how I would change mine to SHORT and BRUTAL. It became a Slab motto. (Glad I never actually did that tour heh heh.) Descension was most definitely a short and brutal period. We felt austere. The kind of band jokiness and happy go luckiness had disappeared. We were entrenched. We were utterly and desperately poor, I never had any money, none of us did. I am not sure quite how I survived.
In the band promo photos for Descension there is one shot, I think used on the original sleeve back cover of myself, Dave, Paul, Bill and Robin sat as a Victorian family. It summed up the austerity well. The darkness of a Victorian living room after a séance. If you look very closely you will see ectoplasm coming from my fingers.
Post Descension Descension came out towards the end of 1987. Descension got some great reviews in the press, lead review in the NME, great review in Sounds and others I cant remember. It charted. So life shoulda been good. It is somewhat ironic that it seems to have taken the press 20 years to actually appreciate Slab and we are very lucky that there are now a lot of people and musicians who cite Descension as a major influence. It was called Descension as a riposte to John Coltrane’s Ascension. It was our descent. We had once recorded 4 slightly out of time tracks of the whole of Ascension on Dave’s 4 track, sounded great! But things weren’t right. Things felt very very flat after making it. Where do you go? Your rhythm section is hanging by a thread. You have no money. Friendships that founded the band are falling apart. What you should do is go on tour and promote that album and sell some merchandise and play yer greatest hits the ways the fans want em. But we never did that, ever. I guess we were bored very quickly. And for me and Dave once Descension was done it was time to look ahead, not back. I couldn’t see how we could play any of the old songs. Descension had destroyed them.
We had some tour of
It was winter time and it was cold and bleak. It was now obvious in where we were setting our stall, eg heavy fug off riffs/grooves and improvisation, that Robin's time was limited as he was a rock solid drummer but improvising wasnt really his thing....but we were a bunch of bastards....
In our usual cold blooded way clandestine conversations started. We were even phoning
So Scott came over from
The first thing of any note we did was to record a single version of People Pie. It’s a great track, but it doesn’t really follow on from Descension, there’s no continuity of sound. All it served to do was confuse people even more about exactly what this band sounded like… cos it sounded different every bloody release. We worked on a live set and toured Europe. But we were firmly split into two camps. Me Dave and Paul stayed together and Bill and Scott with each other. Musically we were divided. Scott had expected some funk monsters. We wanted Ronald Shannon Jackson, which Scott could do, but I don’t think he had expected us to be so murderously heavy live. Our live set was almost painful. We were exceedingly loud, louder than the Swans at that point, we were crossing some of the heavier riffs from Descension with freeform playing. It was gut wrenching stuff. To be honest it was almost too much in retrospect listening to some of the old live cassettes. But we seemed to have left our mark over a number of years. We recorded our 3rd Peel session with Scott on drums. Its quite revered by many people these days.
However we were now in almost abject poverty. Sometime during this period I woke one morning in my Chiswick palace of fun to the sounds of someone banging on front my door at about 9am. Now as any self respecting sonic terrorist knows 9am is not a good time to catch me. Hugo had gone to work so I turned over and went back to sleep. 10 mins later some fukker opens my downstairs bedroom window and starts to clamber in. He was very lucky that I didn’t go straight in at him cos fortunately I noticed that before I removed his face he was an oldish chap in a suit. Not yer average burglar then. No he was from the bank and our beloved psychic landlady who had let our palace fall into complete rack and ruin had forgotten to pay the mortgage on this particular one of her many properties. He told me it was being repossessed and that we had two weeks to get out. I managed to go stay with my sister in Penge (aint that punishment enough… nope she was Born Again…) so I barely lived there. I left my stuff there and virtually decamped to Dave Morris’ flat on Brixton Hill. Dave’s relationship had failed too sometime during the making of Descension and he had had to move out of his girlfriends flat, so he was staying in a place in Brixton with a guy called Andy who we had both known for a very long time. Paul was in a stable relationship with Margaret Ward who had done tapes for us in the early days. They were in Hammersmith and were very supportive of each other. I was in a relationship with my now wife, but it wasn’t the kinda relationship where we saw that much of each other at that point.
The big problem for us all was money. We weren’t getting a penny from Slab, apart from bits of radio play royalties.
Paul, Dave and myself somehow managed to get our way onto some government initiative called the Enterprise Allowance Scheme. This paid you £40 a week and you could still get your housing benefit paid. We had this for a year, it seemed like a godsend as it gave us a year to get our shit together and start making money out of Slab.
But to this day neither Paul nor I can remember exactly what we did that year, well we got pissed a lot round at Dave’s flat and could afford kebabs, but I think we only wrote one collective song in an entire year. Most of that year (1988) passed in a haze of illegal substances of one kind or another.
We dallied with a manager from
One of the good things about this period was that through Paul we made contact with Ikon Video who had shot footage of a number of our gigs in Manchester and London and as Paul became good friends with Malcolm we made a video for People Pie. It was shown on Snub TV. Still didn’t help us sell many copies of People Pie though ha ha. Its on youtube. I think its best Paul tells that story really, he knows more about it, but I have great memories of being absolutely hammered with the Ikon lads in Manchester consuming speed, eating curries, and laughing our heads off. It was one of the happiest times of my life.
At some point in 1988, Bill decided to call it a day. He had had enough. Musically we weren’t going where he wanted to. I think we had half wanted this but didn’t expect it. In my heart I wanted him to stay and just get through this period cos I knew there would be light at the end of the tunnel and he would probably like what would come next. But it wasn’t to be. I felt like we had treated him like dirt. I wont blame Dave Morris, I had a brain and a will of my own, but as Bill pointedly told me Dave was only ever interested in money and what he could get. So that was it another good friend gone. The gang had all but fallen to pieces.
Sometime later Scott decided to return to
While nothing in particular seemed to be going on Scott was back in
We booked into an underground studio in the middle of Shoreditch High Street in
Everything was recorded live. If i remember it was pretty straightforward, dont think we did many takes and in SLAB style very little overdubs. As usual we were well rehearsed. Descension had taken a fair few takes when we started with Gutter Busting but this just seemed to go straight down to tape.
But there was no excitement at all, it was lifeless, a band that wasnt a band and certainly no gang mentality. It was boring. The songs were boring. It wasnt in my hands anymore and I really wasnt happy plus I was getting ill as usual and by the second day had really bad flu.We did everything in a week. Everything recorded, vocals,overdubs etc finished in a week. I dont remember wanting to be there at all. In fact as the week went on I really did not want to be there. This wasnt SLAB.....
The only track i was remotely excited about was Visiting Hour as it was written in the studio very late one night. Dave Morris was sitting playing the bass plugged directly into the desk. It was going through every effect there was and sounded absolutely fuckin huge, it was like something from Descension. I was determnined we should do it, it was the only track that motivated me. Scott and Lou were disparaging, didnt get it, they were still in their funk stage. I told Dave to play it, Scott went in instead of Lou and started drumming, although i dont think the drumming was particualrly right for the track and i grabbed some of Paul's lyrics and put down a vocal.
It was sung to the bass tune plus effects it sounded huge, walls of fuzz abd huge harmonic overtones and so much better than anything else on the album. BUT IT DIDNT FUCKIN STAY THAT WAY....
Sanity Allergy is a strange album I coudnt listen to it for years and still dont like a lot of it, but its not bad in its own little way. Sounds like a series of demos to me and always has done.... and the reason why is:
We were due to go back in and mix. But i had had enough. I was ill, fed up with fighting for my vision and not getting anywhere. It wasnt my band anymore. It was a band that had no bloody direction whatsoever. In fact Dave Morris was plotting to take the entire band away to play for Pinkie MacLure.
I simply walked out and went to Barcleona for a two weeks. It seemed pointless. It sounded shit too. And worse they thought it was alright, probably not Paul but I think he was stuck in the middle trying to keep peace - he has always had a lot more common sense and decency than me. But the fact that the rest of them tought it was ok was the worst apsect of it and the most soul destroying.
I foolsihly thought that Paul and Dave would have enough understanding of what we did to Descension in the mix to be able to repeat the process with Sanity Allergy. Afterall Descension sounded pretty lame before we mixed it , the raw tracks were similar in sound to Sanity Allergy.
I thought they would turn it into some dark heavy psychedelic epic. How wrong I was.
I returned form
I couldnt believe that they could get it so WRONG. it was a fuckin rock album. Everything sounded the same. Nothing had been done to it apart from a few rattles and noises added to
I was so fuckin depressed there seemed no point in carrying on at all. In reality there wasnt and this line up didnt.
Paul said that they were lost in the studio without me that they didnt have any vision about what it should be. Paul is my friend and I understood that. But I couldnt listen to it and worse still Barry hadnt recorded the effects on the bass part of Visiting Hour so my vocal sounded way off key. The best track, the only track of any note and they had totally fucked it up.
I HATED EVERY MINUTE OF THAT STINKING PILE OF SHIT. It was a pointless waste of time it served no purpose. it was just a gaping hole between descension and the final line up which we will come to later.
I can listen to the album occaisionally and go ok its not bad, I see why people like it....... In my head it shoulda been Descension part two, fugn heavy, raw, wild and psychedelic..... well it certainly aint.
Another new line up
I dont remember much of what happened after Sanity Allergy. Dave Morris was convinced he was going to make a living from playing sessions and was taking Scott and Lou to be a part of Pinkie Maclures band.
Paul didnt go. Loyalty to a friend - and I thank him to this day for that.
I think that was it for Scott and Lou I dont even know what happened with Pinkie's band. I wasnt impressed and I dont forgive people very easily. I dont think her band did very much.
That left me and Paul. Bye bye gents.
I think we bummed around for a while and somehow we got involved with two guys who rehearsed next door to us - Nick Page and Boleslaw Usarazewski. They were in Nick's band called the RainGods and they were alright. Nick had a certain Billy Mackenzie esque approach to songwriting that i liked and respected. he knew about music. He understood where we were coming from because he heard us throught the walls! Nick and Bolly started to help us out, Nick on guitar and d Bolly on bass. We auditioned for drummers and got a guy called Rob Allum, his brother Nick played drums next door to us on the other side for Cathal Coughlan's band the
Rob was the perfect drummer for us, he could play and wasnt full of shit. He was a very sound individual.
So we set about rehearsing some old songs and some new. We went a bit rock to be honest, but Paul and I werent really in a position to moan. We needed someone like Nick Page to actually get our shit together and get us in a position to be a band again.... and with all due respect Nick was very very good at that. He was a band leader ....of course this would lead to problems at a later date but then its me and its SLAB and I am not the world's most chilledout person ha! But Nick did a great job. One of the biggest things he did was to give me confidence in my own voice and helped me open up.
We started touring again, playing Mars On Ice, Big Sleeper, People Pie and a few new tracks... we were a bit like a karaoke SLAB but at least we were playing again. We played at the Hacienda and a few gigs around
We then decided to do another single Deaths Head Soup. I wrote it pretty much in its entirety its even got my lyrics. I had written it in the year after Descension so it was already quite old, however as usual in true Dray style i was so weak and lacking in confidence that I let it be pushed away from what it should have been. When I first wrote it it was detuned down to C on bass and half the speed of the single version. Wasnt meant to be funky. Had walls of C Tuned guitar over it too. Again it was meant to be a drug fuelled psychedelic epic. IT WASNT. Nick suggested we speed it up to make it more acessible. I guess we tried it and I musta liked it. So we did it.
I like Deaths Head Soup its a great song, but it wasnt what we needed then. we needed to get back to being fucking heavy, but the people i was working with didnt understand that. They saw it as a vehicle to get the band played and to get gigs - which in a way was right its what we had to do - we had to get out and fucking play.But again I didnt iike it, It compromised what I was about. But i was fucking starving and we needed some bloody money. So out it came... and sank without trace... got a few decent reviews... but I buried it as soon as i could.
Strangely i would say that the last phase of SLAB was the happiest and the best and the heaviest and the most experimental and live it was like a fuckin sledgehammer - but its not documented anywhere because we never released anything from this period....
My relationship with Nick Page had deteriorated. Two leaders in one band isnt good. So it was bye bye Nick, probably no bad thing for him as he went on to form Transglobal Underground and be highly successful.
His replacement was not a guitarist but a fuckin REVELATION by the name of Graham Sherman, a friend of Rob Allum's.
Paul and I had written a fair new amount of material and it was all fucking good. We werent a pastiche anymore we were a heavy fuckin supercharged psychedelic motherload and when we played live we were like some primal force locked in Bryion Gysins dream machine.
We rehearsed and went on our last two tours with the Young Gods, joint headliners on a tour of the
He knew why Apocalypse Now is important, he knew why Lee Perry matters, he knew that TG were true innovators, he liked Peter Hammill.... and he supported West Ham.
We clicked,we got on, for the first time in bloody years here was a line up that could talk to each other, knew what it was doing musically and actually liked each other.
We went out on tour and blew everyones heads off.
We got rave live reviews in the NME and Melody Maker. We were back and we knew it.
Then we headed for
But we were fuckin tremendous. The Young Gods in 89 were absolutely awesome live but by their own admission we demolished them on a couple of nights particularly in
We were so fucking good at this point it was frightening.
.....and there are no recordings whatsoever, typical of SLAB and its legacy.
While we were there the
Poverty was grinding, Paul and I met a couple of heroin addled record company bosses and it was just so fucking pointless. If these were the only people interested in us then God help us.
Paul and I wrote some more new material, it was blinding and it was moving on again.
Bolly had succumbed to poverty and decided to leave.
Bass has always been a crucial part of SLAB its what everything was written from. Bolly didnt innovate in his role he just played what he was told. We needed someone who could understand how important bass was and could innovate and also someone who would play the basslines i was writing. The trouble was finding someone. I couldnt play bass live and sing,
Around January 1990 we auditioned a friend of Rob's on bass. We did it at Rob's house as we couldnt afford rehearsal studios anymore.
We set up in his front room, drums, amps PA and started out on some new material.
It was fucking hopeless.
And that was it.
I never called another rehearsal again. Never even spoke about it.
I walked away went home and turned SLAB off.
The very first ever SLAB set list