Unauthorised item in the bagging area

Thursday, 5 February 2026

Shadowplayers

I bought this book just before Christmas and read it through January, a new edition of Shadowplayers: The Rise And Fall of Factory Records by James Nice, originally published in 2010. It's a really good read, an in depth and thoroughly research history of the label with a wide cast of players present, both via interviews by Nice and already existing ones. There are contributions from all four members of New Order, Martin Moscrop of ACR, Alan Erasmus, Vini Reilly, Mike Pickering, Peter Saville, Lindsay Reade, Liz Naylor, Dermo, Larry Cassidy, Gary Newby, Bez and Shaun Ryder, Leroy Richardson, Paul Mason, Paul Morley and Jon Savage who in different ways all offer insight and explanation. Those who have gone- Ian Curtis, Martin Hannett, Tony Wilson, Rob Gretton, Vincent Cassidy, Annik Honore- are all well represented by archive interviews. 

James Nice is a fan of Factory. In the mid- 80s he founded his own label, LTM,  inspired by his love of Factory and re- issued some out of print Factory records. More recently he began managing of the Factory adjacent labels Le Disques Du Crepuscule and Factory Benelux and has worked on re- releases records by the Durutti Column, Section 25, The Wake, Quando Quango, ACR and others. He's invested in the label and loves the art it created. Shadowplayers isn't a fan account though and in some ways is a very necessary corrective to some of the less reliable, if more entertaining accounts that have grown since the labels demise, the 24 Hour Party People film and book among others (enjoyable though both were to a certain extent). Nice's history goes some way towards puncturing some of the myths and at times questions the received versions. One of Tony Wilson's most celebrated quotes is the old, 'When forced to pick between the truth and legend, print the legend'. Nice most definitely leans towards truth over legend. 

He traces the label's origins and tells the story chronologically from 1978 to 1992, roughly in three parts: the early days and the Joy Division story; the early- to- mid 80s (a mix of groundbreaking records, sleeves and productions coupled with some questionable A&R decisions and a largely empty nightclub); and the later years, when Happy Mondays gave Factory their much longed after second big selling act and their drug consumption/ lifestyle began to influence the label  and the way it was run (and Wilson particularly), a nightclub suddenly at the epicentre of a youth culture explosion and the financial mismanagement that brought about Factory's collapse in 1992, a process that sped up when a potentially lucrative deal with London Records (oh, the irony) was scuppered by Wilson's own admission and producing of a piece of paper from 1978 that read, 'the musicians own everything, the label owns nothing'. Factory had almost literally nothing to sell and had huge debts run up by the acquisition/ development of three properties (one of which, the offices on Charles Street, would generate no income). 

It's as much about the other bands as it is about the big two Joy Division/ New Order and Happy Mondays- those records and artists that span the Factory catalogue numbering system, from the ever- present Durutti Column and A Certain Ratio to James, The Railway Children, Section 25, Stockholm Monsters, The Wake, Kalima, Cath Carroll, Crispy Ambulance, Kevin Hewick and Northside. 

Dirty Disco *

Wilson is quoted as saying that Gretton was far better at A&R than he was and Wilson's track record supports him. In the late 80s, at a crossroads in the label's history with debts and crises mounting (gang violence inside the Hacienda, drugs, police and council attention) Tony Wilson signs The Adventure Babies and The Wendys. He also spends £250, 000 on a Cath Carroll solo album- a lovely album for sure but never likely to recoup that money. The chaos that the Mondays brought to the label, the lifestyle and shift in sound, turned Factory upside down,. The Mondays were a generational band on the one hand, capable of creating incredible records- Bummed, Pills 'n' Thrills- but also one that Tony Wilson bought into so deeply that the lifestyle and promotion of it, that it threw the label off and unbalanced them. 

Delightful **

It's also a reminder of how cutting and brutal the music press could be in the 80s. Nice presents umpteen critical accounts and reviews of Factory nights, gigs and records from the contemporary press, showing how Factory rarely had across the board approval during its lifetime. Manchester's own press- City Fun et al- were often hyper- critical. The four national music papers too. From their end Factory refused to promote or plug, refused to advertise the records ('if they're good enough, people will find them', was Wilson's belief). New Order refused to talk to the press and gave one interview a year in the mid- 80s, willful sabotage of their own sales due to a mistrust of the press. Some Manchester bands avoided the label, keen not to sign for Factory. Factory was divisive as well as cool- something that has been forgotten in the time since the collapse. 

Hymn From A Village ***

The contemporary view of Tony Wilson, in Manchester and beyond, is that he built the modern city and was a universally loved figure. The book calmly outlines events and people, showing rather than telling. You gather that by 1989, Wilson's ego could run out of control, as seen on the Hacienda trip to the USA titled Wake Up America You're Dead!, where they offended a panel of American house/ techno pioneers (which included Keith Allen posing as a pharmaceutical expert), Wilson reveling in the image he was creating, portraying the Mondays as musicians and drug dealers. I say this as a fan of Tony Wilson by the way- but a more realistic portrait of him and popular views of him at the time is drawn by Nice here than in some accounts of the Factory story. 

All the stuff of the legend is there too, some of it debunked- Saville's groundbreaking and beautiful art and inability to meet deadlines, Blue Monday and the cost of its sleeves and groundbreaking sound, Strawberry Studios, Unknown Pleasures, Martin Hannett's production, drug consumption and fall out with Factory, the Russell Club, The Hacienda, Dry, the Charles Street offices with the floating Ben Kelly table, the Festival of the 10th Summer, the guns and gangs and violence that overwhelmed the club and the label in the late 80s/ early 90s, the tensions that rose in New Order that led to their split, all of this and some very necessary and important minor stories too. It's a thorough and very readable account. 

We see Factory now through the lens of coffee table books of sleeve art, exhibitions, box sets, posters, films and documentaries, merchandise and re- issues. I'm as guilty of this as anyone in my own way. I too buy the merch and re- issues, go to the exhibitions, write about the records and contribute to the Factory nostalgia industry. In contrast, while adding to the pile of Factory books James Nice gives us a richly detailed, clear eyed and largely un- nostalgic account.  

In one part towards the end of the 80s Bernard Sumner recounts how New Order were praised for doing things 'the Factory way' or 'the New Order way', deliberately choosing the more difficult, more obtuse, less commercial route. Sumner says that he and the band realised that doing things 'the Factory/ New Order way' had cost them a massive amount of money and made life difficult for them when it didn't have to be. He wanted them to become a less truculent, less arty band, more commercial and more conventional, playing the bigger gigs, for more money. At that point, I thought while reading it, 'the experiment in art by a bunch of Manchester Marxists' (to quote Wilson) started to come to an end and was eventually replaced, after 1992 when Factory finally collapsed with a bunch of creditors that included friends and family, by something less interesting but more beneficial to the musicians. 

Shadowplay ****

* Dirty Disco is a slice of mutant post- punk grind by Section 25, the Blackpool band who singed with Factory and released their debut album in 1981, produced by Martin Hannett at Pink Floyd's Britannia Row studio in London and clad in an absurdly beautiful and lavish Peter Saville sleeve. 

** In 1985 Factory released this Happy Mondays single, Delightful, produced by Mike Pickering, a song that gives a hint of what lies ahead although clearly the band are still finding out where they are going. 

*** Hymn From A Village was by James, the lead song on their James II single in 1985. James were still a four piece at the time, a unique and visionary band who left for a major label and who I don't think ever sounded better than on this song. 

**** Shadowplay is from Joy Division's Unknown Pleasures, as I'm sure you know, the album that made the reputation of band, producer, sleeve designer and record label. 

Wednesday, 4 February 2026

Lucky 7s

Over at Ban Ban Ton Ton Dr. Rob gave over most of January's posts to celebrations of music from 2025. Rob is based in Japan where 7 is considered to be a lucky number. He asked Ban Ban Ton Ton contributors, friends and musicians to submit their Lucky 7s of 2025, starting at the tail end of December with Mark Barrott, and then saw in the new year with the Chinese Year of the Horse. 

When I Was On Horseback

Lunar Dunes in 2007, sitar driven space rock for the Year of the Horse.

Throughout January Rob published Lucky 7s from a slew of Bagging Area adjacent people including Richard Norris, Sean Johnston, Deeply Armed, Davie Miller of Fini Tribe and Jason Boardman as well as Rob's own selections themed into Balearic, techno, reggae and dub, and rock (guitars really rather than rock). Rob asked the five of us in The Flightpath Estate if we wanted to contribute our own Lucky 7s. 

My Lucky 7 got their own post, six records from 2025 that saddled my horse and one from 1989 (in tribute to Mani). You can find that post here

Martin, Dan and Mark all sent in their favorites from 2025, playing fast and loose with the concept of 7 in some cases- Martin opens the post with 7 compilations from last year, Mark compiles his favourites including Crooked Man, 10:40, Psychemagick, Death In Vegas, Hugo Nicolson and the Johnny Halifax Invocation while Dan brings in his 7 including Maria Somerville, Sydney Minsky Sargeant and Daniel Avery. You can read that here

Rob asked me if I'd also like to contribute a Lucky 7 gigs post. I went to sixteen gigs in 2025 and narrowing them down to seven highlights was tough but you can find my Lucky 7 gigs here with reports of memorable evenings of live music in the company of Mercury Rev, Red Snapper, Shack, The Sabres Of Paradise (twice), Iggy Pop, Working Men's Club and The Charlatans, as seen at a variety of venues, large and small. Just thinking about Iggy Pop rocking the Victoria Warehouse, shirtless and wild at the age of 78, Sabres dubbing out The White Hotel and Mercury Rev's dreamy excursion into the Blade Runner soundtrack gives me a slight shiver, the memories still quite vivid and alive- and just listening to this Iggy and The Stooges blast of raw power from 1973 brings it all back. 

Raw Power


Tuesday, 3 February 2026

Long Roads

On Saturday night Sydney Minsky Sargeant played the basement room at Yes in Manchester, part of a week celebrating indie venues. Tickets cost a ridiculously cheap £6. Syd's album Lunga was one of last year's highlights, a twelve song set of largely acoustic, downtempo songs, a bit folk but underpinned by electronics and FX. It was easy to listen to it and hear echoes of Syd Barrett, Nick Drake and John Martyn. On the basis of a fifty minute set at Yes in front of less than a hundred people those comparisons aren't going to go away. 

Syd's an intense stage presence, often staring out from the stage into the darkness of the room in front of him, unblinking. The crowd are silent, listening intently to every moment. Between songs the FX pedals at his feet make noises, ambient/ FX sounds that link the songs, giving the set a glitchy feel that then vanishes as he starts playing the guitar, when his playing and voice fill the room. Even when he fluffs a line during Long Roads, one of 2025's best voice and guitar songs, it's endearing, bringing shouts of 'go on Syd' from the crowd. He plays much of Lunga- Long Roads, I Don't Wanna and New Day all stand out- and a couple of others I didn't recognise, and it's spellbinding. He's a proper talent and in this environment, a small room on a back street on a rainy night in Manchester, a world away from supporting LCD Soundsystem on big stages with his main band Working Men's Club, he's clearly got a lot to give with just an acoustic guitar, a loop pedal and his voice. 

New Day


Monday, 2 February 2026

Streets Of Minneapolis

Bruce Springsteen wrote this song nine days ago, last Saturday, recorded it a few days later and released it the following day, Thursday 28th January. In that sense it is a protest song of the 60s tradition, topical folk protest articulating the issues of the day coupled with burning anger and righteousness, sent out to people quickly to support a movement. It names the dead, Alex Pretti and Renee Good. 

Bruce's song, Streets Of Minneapolis, is Dylan- esque, a rising tide of rage against a regime that has crossed the lines, building slowly with voice, guitar and drums, then backing vocals, 'In our home they killed and roamed/ In the winter of 26/ We'll remember the names of those who died/ On the streets of Minneapolis'. Bruce goes on to name the perpetrators, those who give the orders and sanction and excuse the murders- Trump, Miller, Noem- and he goes on, the song rising in a sea of raised voices- 

'In chants of ICE out now Our city’s heart and soul persists Through broken glass and bloody tears On the streets of Minneapolis

Oh our Minneapolis, I hear your voice Singing through the bloody mist Here in our home they killed and roamed In the winter of ’26 We’ll take our stand for this land And the stranger in our midst We’ll remember the names of those who died On the streets of Minneapolis'

Streets Of Minneapolis ends with the chants of the crowd, 'ICE out ICE out ICE out...' Bruce giving the people the final word...

I've not really ever been a fan of Bruce Springsteen. In the mid- 80s the whole stadium rock, saxophone solo, chest beating Bruce did nothing for me and although people said look beyond that, listen to Nebraska, I never did. In recent years I've tiptoed closer, found some songs I can enjoy and have appreciated him as an authentic voice and as a decent voice in US political life. I found myself singing along to Dancing In The Dark and Born To Run a while ago, hearing them in a pub, and actually enjoying them shorn of their 80s MTV major label rock sheen. I have always liked the 1993 song Streets Of Philadelphia and this new song has been something of an eye opener for me. Recently I heard this, a remix of Bruce's State Trooper by Trentemoller that I'd not heard before and it's given me another little opening into Bruce Springsteen's music.

Streets Of Minneapolis has gone to the top of the charts (streaming) in nineteen countries at the time of writing so Bruce has very much struck a chord. More power to you Bruce Springsteen. 

Something may have tipped in Trump's fascist USA in the last week, the murders of Alex Pretti and Renee Good in broad daylight by paramilitary thugs marking a change in the public mood, something that even Trump, the authoritarian with no controls or bounds on him other than his 'own morality', has had to back down from. I am teaching A Level History classes at the moment a unit on Germany 1918- 1945, a time and place where gangs of armed, uniformed paramilitaries stalked the streets and demanded to see the papers of people who looked different or who had an accent, to see if they were truly German. Those who could not pass that test were bundled off to camps. Some were killed in broad daylight. If only we could learn from the recent past. 

In November 2024, on the day of the presidential election, I wrote this at a post here. 

People sometimes shrink from using the word fascist. It's too extreme, it's student politics, it's an exaggeration. Perhaps the culture around the fascist dictators of the 20th century is partly the reason-  Hitler was a fascist and this blinds us to modern equivalents. No one can be as bad as Hitler can they? Therefore, no one else can be a fascist. But Trump's actions and words are fascist- the demonisation of minorities, the talk of genetics and purity, the desire to have unlimited and unchallengeable power, the cult of the leader, the assaults on democracy, the rampant nationalism, the cosy relationship between big business and power- all these things are fascist. I think we should call it what it is. 

A lot of you agreed. Elsewhere a friend countered that Trump's not a fascist, that the state planned economy of the 20th century fascist states is absent in the USA, that it's an exaggeration to throw the word around. I still don't think so. I think it's entirely apt and describes Trump's second term exactly- the use of violence, the shutting down of critical voices in the media, the state sanctioned lying by government mouthpieces, the racist language and policies, the use of paramilitary organisations to abduct and kill in the streets, the kidnapping of foreign leaders, the bullying and threats to sovereign states, the belief that might gives right- it's fascism. 

Over here in the UK we have our own problems at the moment, political, social and economic. It'd be nice to ignore a country thousands of miles away and say it's nothing to do with us but unfortunately what Trump and the US does affects us all. We are all drawn into this fascism. 

I feel for those Americans who are anti- Trump, who are appalled by their government and the failure of the Constitution to provide a check on Trump's power, on his fascism. I take some small comfort in the knowledge that at some point in the future (and three years away does feel like along time I know) he will be gone- by his term of office ending and by democratic process (fingers crossed) or by nature taking its course- and that something better comes in his place. I hope that the anti- Trump and anti- ICE feelings of the last week provide some glimmer of hope and that Bruce Springsteen adds a little more. 




Sunday, 1 February 2026

This Chant Is God Voice

Justin Robertson took his Five Green Moons on the road last week for a trio of gigs, in Liverpool, Manchester and Todmorden. On Thursday night he was at Rainy Heart in Stretford, a new South Manchester venue with some fearsome speaker stacks, in a retail unit in what used to be Stretford Mall.

 Five Green Moons may not be the most unlikely thing to have ever happened in the former Stretford Mall- that would probably be Muhammad Ali's visit in 1971. The three time heavyweight champion of the world was on a visit to the Stretford branch of Tesco (when it was Stretford Arndale) on a promotional tour for Ovaltine, a visit that had to be closed down by police due to the sheer number of people that arrived hoping to see the world's most famous sportsman. Ali was backed into a corner by an ecstatic mob and had to be rescued by the police. But, Five Green Moons may well be a close second to that. 

Justin stands behind a bank of equipment- laptop, drum machine, synth, theremin, FX pedals- dressed in ceremonial robes, horned headgear and hood with guitar and e- bow. What follows is as much ritual as gig, a slew of influences fused into one- pagan poetry, the bass and drums of dub, weird folk horror, post- punk, gnomic lyrics about ritual, repetition, sense, form and beauty, fuzz and sci fi. It's a fully realised hour of music, no gaps between the songs, a one man excursion into rite and the occult via music, everything drenched in the space of dub- 'everything's a song in the sound world', he chants at one point, his right hand wafted round the theremin and the bass kicking around the concrete walls. 

Towards the end he plays Boudicca, a track from last year's Moon 2 album (Brix Smith is on vocals on the recorded version, a presence from 1980s Manchester, The Fall being one of the main reasons Justin arrived in Manchester to study in the mid- 80s). Boudicca is a trippy collision of post- punk and dub, a celebration of the Queen of the Iceni, sung by Brix. After an hour of Five Green Moons ritual, of Justin's spoken word vocals, the rubbery bass, the skittering/ thudding drum sounds and Space Echo, the distorted guitar and FX, come to end. Justin holds his arms forwards bringing the invocation to a close. 

This Chant Is God Voice is one of the prime cuts from Moon 2 and was a highlight on Thursday night at Rainy Heart. 'Repetition is ritual/ Form is beauty/ This chant is beauty'. 



Saturday, 31 January 2026

Oblique Saturdays

A series for Saturdays in 2026 inspired by Brian Eno and Peter Schmidt's set of cards, Oblique Strategies (Over One Hundred Worthwhile Dilemmas). Eno and Schmidt created them to be used to unblock creative impasses and approach problems from unexpected angles. Each week I'll turn over an Oblique Strategy card and post a song or songs inspired by the suggestion. 

Last week's card said Into the impossible. I went with an instant response, The Drum by The Impossibles (the Andrew Weatherall remix from 1991). Ernie agreed and mentioned his 7" copy of the original by Slapp Happy from 1974. Ernie also had Peter O'Toole singing in The Impossible Dream in the 1972 film Man Of La Mancha. Walter went with Medicine Head in 1973 with a mathematical impossibility, One Plus One Is One. Anonymous consulted a search engine and got Into The Impossible by Saint Profane and another Anonymous (or possibly the same one) suggested Impossible by The Charlatans. Khayem came up with Kylie's Impossible Princess and Bon Iver's cover of Talk Talk's I Believe. 

Spendid commented that there were several ways to take the suggestion Into the impossible and settled on Jessica Curry's So Let Us Melt, a computer game score that captures the 'impossible wonder of childhood... but comes closer to describing the aching loss of adulthood'. Indeed. Jessica's album is here- it's well worth your time. 

I did wonder, as a response to Spendid's comments, if I should be resisting the temptation to go with gut instinct when turning over the card, not just go for a song or artist name that the card suggests, but be a little less literal and a little more more lateral- surely what Eno and Schmidt intended.

Today's Oblique Saturday card is this...

Go to an extreme, move back to a more comfortable place

I slept on this. Extreme music is an interesting one. Artists that go to extremes are often admirable and worthy of our respect but they don't always make for fun listening experiences. I'm sure you can think of your own examples. 

I often think of Gnod as an extreme band- a Manchester collective with a rotating cast of players, born from a scene in the 00s around Islington Mill in Salford. They work with sound and light artists to create fully immersive experiences. They have played at a night called Gesantkunstwerk (German word, translates as 'whole arts work'). They cite Kurt Vonnegut as being as important to their music as any musical influences. So it goes. 

In 2017 they released an album called Just Say No To The Psycho Right- Wing Capitalist Fascist Industrial Death Machine (as statement even truer now than it was then- the psycho right- wing capitalist fascist industrial death machine is out of control in the USA right now). Gnod's music is loud, everything into the red, sludge powered psyche- rock. Maybe it's difficult to be extreme while making guitar music in the 2010s/ 20s but Gnod do it and do it well. 

Real Man

Early Husker Du- the Land Speed Record Husker Du- are extreme too, a live album from 1982 that flies through seventeen songs in half an hour, breakneck, amphetamine hardcore punk. By the time they hit 1984 and their double album concept opus Zen Arcade, they had an album that ended with the fourteen minute long jazz- hardcore punk instrumental Reoccurring Dreams. In between the two they opened 1984's New Day Rising with the title track, a coruscating wall of buzzsaw guitars,, breaking glass and thumping tinny drums, just three words repeated over and over...

New Day Rising

I then thought about going into the industrial techno area, the 'full on panel beaters from Prague' (quoth Andrew Weatherall) of the 90s, the sound of a metal bin being kicked, or Belgian hardcore and Dutch gabba, dance music taken to its extremities. Weatherall himself visited this area with Dave Hedger as Lords Of Afford, gratuitously hardcore techno as heard on this 1994 remix of Steve Bicknell...

Untitled (Lords Of Afford Mix)

Taking the word Extreme literally threw up Extreme Noise Terror, the extreme noise band from Ipswich. In 1992 they appeared on stage with The KLF (a duo who definitely took things to extremes) at the Brits, a noise metal version of 3am Eternal that ended with Bill Drummond firing a machine gun (firing blanks) at the assembled Brits audience. Then they dumped a dead sheep outside the venue. 

The KLF v Extreme Noise Terror 3am Eternal (Top Mix)

It occurred to me that extreme music can sometimes become a competition, a band racing to take their sound to the nth degree, the furthest point it can go. In 1989 Napalm Death recorded You Suffer, their speed metal/ grindcore reduced to a song that is 0.03 seconds long, released on 7". The lyrics apparently are, 'You suffer/ But why?'

The first half of the Oblique Strategy card is Go to an extreme... The second half is ...move back to a more comfortable place. I'm not sure I like the idea of music being comfortable- comfortable sounds dull and easy, like a sofa or a pair of elastic waist trousers. I've nothing against either, trousers and sofas are important parts of life, but I'm not sure art and music should be seen as such. 

There's a fairly well known phrase, 'art should disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed'. Banksy has used it but it's attributed to Cesar A. Cruz and a 1997 poem with the same title, a poem about the horrors humans inflict on each other- imperialism, war, capitalism, bigotry- and suddenly we're back at Gnod again. 

But comforting the disturbed is important, music as medicine and as a means of relief, as transportation. I know that music can do this- it's been incredibly important to me in the time since Isaac died in November 2021 and I've written before about a long Saturday afternoon, a week after his death, an afternoon where it seemed like it never got light and that it might go on forever. My physical symptoms were appalling, not least raging tinnitus. I hadn't been able to listen to any music since he died, nothing seemed to be what I wanted to hear. But I needed something that afternoon, if nothing else just to mark the passing of time and drown out the noise in my ears. I put on one of Richard Norris' Music For Healing EPs, probably the December 2021 release, two twenty minute ambient tracks and they did the trick, some aural balm, just enough to make an impact on me. I followed it with some ambient Americana by SUSS and somehow the music helped. A few weeks ago, to mark Martin Luther King Day, Richard released The Corn Is Coming, a four minute ambient track, made in an hour as part of the Mutual Defiance/ In Place Of War campaign. It's here

Feel free to make your own Oblique Saturday suggestions in the comment box. 


Friday, 30 January 2026

Freak Swerve

More from the archives of Snub TV, the BBC 2 early evening magazine programme that delved into the world of alternative and independent music between 1988 and 1991. In 1988 Dinosaur Jr pitched up in the UK touring their third album, Bug. Their 1987 album, You're Living All Over Me, is the purist's choice- punk, metal, folk rock, indie, alternative, guitar rock, full on distorted guitar solos courtesy of J Mascis coupled with his drawled vocals- a winning sound. Bug may not be as good an album but it does contain Freak Scene. 

When Snub TV caught up with J, Lou and Murph it was miming to Freak Scene in the back garden of John Robb's house in West Didsbury, south Manchester, complete with a life size fibreglass fisherman and various plastic toys. Freak Scene was a song that seemed to cross the borders in 1988, a mini- anthem for those into all the different kinds of alternative music. 

Like John Robb, Dub Sex were part of late 80s Manchester, if not widely known elsewhere. The members lived in the infamous Hulme Crescents, a 1960s housing scheme on the outskirts of town that by the 80s had been abandoned by the people it was intended for and had become another world inhabited by those who wanted to live outside the conventional world. Flats, walkways in the sky, flat roof pubs, open spaces, abandoned cars, a vaguely post- apocalyptic feel. I visited a friend who lived there a couple of times and walked past it often as a teenager heading up Wilmslow Road into town. It was not suburbia. 

Dub Sex sounded a bit like Hulme looked- raw, concrete, intense. Vocalist Mark Hoyle was a northern version of Mark Stewart or Billy Bragg, 100% commitment. Industrial basslines, wire guitars, pummeling drums. In 1989 they appeared on Snub playing live at The Boardwalk, doing Swerve


Probably the best song you've not heard before that you're going to hear today.

Swerve