Zoe Street Howe

Musically the brothers had a voracious appetite, listening to bands such as the German industrial group Einstürzende Neubauten, The Beatles, The Birthday Party, The Doors, Dr Mix and the Remix, and 1960s girl groups like the Shangri-Las. But if they had to pick one single group who had the most impact on them, it would have been the Velvet Underground. When they brought home the The Velvet Underground And Nico album (famously bearing Andy Warhol’s image of a banana on the cover), what ensued was tantamount to a religious experience. It was sweet and bitter, ‘psycho and candy’, all on one record.

‘The whole Scottish scene turns our stomach,’ says Jim. ‘The Welsh as well,’ grins William. ‘And the Irish,’ shrugs Douglas, dourly. (from a Sounds interview with Sandy Robertson, 1985)

Their parents tried to be understanding of their sons’ often insular behaviour – their mother once bought William a key-ring with the inscription ‘I’m not weird, I’m gifted’ written on it, which cheered him immeasurably.

‘I don’t even think we auditioned Bobby,’ Jim Reid admits. ‘We just said, “Can you drum?” “Yeah, a wee bit.” “Right, OK.”’

Jim says of those early meetings: ‘We’d kind of spotted John around the place; he was almost like a weird stalker. At the Sonic Youth gig John came up and said, “I saw you the other night.” I thought, Oh God, is he coming on to me or what? What’s going on? He was a bit of a hustler, you could see that. He’d spotted the drumming spot was vacant and he was going to go for it. It was McGee as well, he said, “There’s this bloke who looks just like William, and he wears leather trousers. I think you should get him.” We’re like, “Can he drum?” “Er . . . oh, I don’t know about that.”’

They actually wanted a drummer, but they couldn’t find anyone who was right. ‘We auditioned dozens of drummers,’ says Jim. ‘Purely on ability, we could have got one easily, but we wanted somebody we could spend ten weeks on a tour bus with. We kept getting these guys that started going on about what type of sticks they would use. We didn’t give a fuck what type of sticks they were going to use! It’s a bit of wood, you moron!’

The journalist asked how they felt about being described variously as both the best and worst group in the western hemisphere. William replied, after a contemplative pause, ‘My favourite colour is gold.’

Douglas Hart says: ‘I loved playing places like that because they were a bit like the places we grew up in. I remember in Preston this kid came up to me, really young, strange-looking guy, and he said, “I’d like to start a band.” I was like, “You should, you should!” And he said, “But I’ve got no friends.” God, what a thing to say. Kind of beautiful. It haunted me. I always wondered what happened to him.’ This poignant exchange must have accessed a part of Douglas that would surely have felt similarly isolated – another outsider from an outsider town – had he and the Reids not found each other in East Kilbride when they did.

The other problem for the Mary Chain, Mick observes, was that The Smiths were increasingly stealing the Mary Chain’s thunder as the decade wore on. ‘People began to see The Smiths as the band of the 1980s,’ he explains. ‘But I still think Psychocandy was one of the albums, if not the album, of the 1980s.’

‘I was friends with the label that had just signed Nine Inch Nails, TVT. The guy played me this stuff and I said, “Yes, that sounds like a band that should open for us.” I sent the records to Jim and William. They couldn’t care less: “Hey, you like them? Fine.” Couldn’t give a shit.’