Tales of a Go-Nowhere Indie Band, part one
It’s 2011, and Manchester has an absolutely thriving music scene. No matter what they tell you, though, it wasn’t always this way. I should know: after all, I was a small part of it during the first decade of the new century, playing drums in a band called, let’s say, The Found Navigation Chart. Throughout that time, this city’s music scene was as much characterised by audience indifference and dreadful bands as anything else. But I’m getting ahead of myself…
It started aged sixteen, when four friends asked me to learn to play the drums. For them, that was easier than having to recruit somebody by meeting new people. I wasn’t all that up for it – it sounded too much like hard work – but It’s hard to say no to friends, and soon enough I was buying drums, arranging lessons, and experiencing the cathartic joy of pounding away on a beautiful new kit.
This happened at the start of 2002. Naturally when it came to establishing the sound of the band, we aimed for Kid A and ended up with a slightly more angsty, less catchy version of Coldplay. Our practise room, for the most part, was a church hall we were allowed to use for free thanks to a rather generous reverend. Occasionally, garages and living rooms would suffice. With little else to do with our lives, we’d lock ourselves away for hours at a time, for days in a row, plotting a path towards indie stardom.
From those humble origins we soon found our feet, and became a little more ambitious. Not always with positive results; one song featured live drums, a drum machine, and a line sampled from Darren Aronofsky’s Pi that was shoehorned in in such a way that is was almost impossible to play around it. Alas, that was to become something of a theme for us – overcomplicating things to the point where actually just playing a song was almost more trouble than it was worth. Perhaps that’s why it took three years of practising before we finally played our first gig. But again, I’m getting ahead of myself…
Over the course of those years, we honed our craft, developed an understanding as musicians, argued a hell of a lot, and – crucially – started listening to better music. Our songs improved massively as a result, and our collective egos had us convinced that we were one of the best bands in Manchester before we’d even played a note in front of an audience.
That wasn’t just arrogance on our part, though; as I’ve already alluded to, the city’s music scene wasn’t exactly in rude health back then. Too many bands were still in thrall to Joy Division, Stone Roses, Oasis et al, and as a result were producing derivative music that wasn’t worth listening to. A good few people – promoters and reviewers and the like – were trying to push things forward, but progress was slow. We honestly thought we could make a difference. How naive we were…
In part two: we start playing gigs and start recording our songs, and critical acclaim quickly follows. The fans, sadly, do not.
