Catching The Dragon

By Joe Kavanagh

While longevity is certainly no guarantee of greatness in the world of rock n' roll, it often offers some indication of the quality of a band and also the quality of their audience.

For those acts lucky enough to even make an album, their time in the spotlight can often be limited, as they either fail to capture the imagination of the music going public or vanish along with the trend they rode in on.

Other more durable and dedicated acts can sometimes plug along for decades, hovering just beneath the glare of the public spotlight and happy to churn out records for their own sake and the sake of their dedicated fans.

On extremely rare occasions, such as the case of a Radiohead or U2, you find a band that manages to hold the public gaze for a decade or more, continuously retooling their creative leanings and succeeding in taking their fans along with them, even as they add more along the way.

Scottish act, Primal Scream, are almost in a category of their own, occasionally embraced as brilliant trailblazers, while also being dismissed as an act that never met the weight of music press expectations.

In the eyes of the public, the band rode trends more than they ever set them and were viewed as victims of their own success.

They exploded into the public consciousness with the seminal album, Screamadelica, still rightly regarded as the high water mark in the fusion of rock and rave culture, and still as vibrant today as it ever was.

For the public, however, it was their failure to ever reach those lofty heights again that saw many people dismiss them as has-beens only a few short years later.

Like some of the narcotics that the band sings about, Screamadelica was akin to the initial rush that addicts enjoy, only to spend the following years fruitlessly chasing that original high.

It occasionally appeared as if the public would have preferred them to break up and bask in the afterglow of their one shining moment but the band saw otherwise.

Despite such indifference, they continued to make tunes that occasionally scaled the dizzy heights of their early days, if only people stopped long enough to listen and this week they return with an album that will surely - and deservedly - seal their legacy as one of the most influential bands of the past 25 years.

Officially formed in Glasgow in 1982, Primal Scream was initially little more than a vent for the frustrations of Bobby Gillespie and Jim Beattie, who had both grown disillusioned with the post-punk scene that was gripping the city.

Gillespie, the band's compass and spiritual fulcrum, was a music junkie ever since he was taken to his first gig by fellow Glaswegian, and big brother figure, Alan McGee.

The band they saw was Thin Lizzy and it says a lot for Phil Lynott and company's performance that they managed to inspire two men that would eventually be amongst the most powerful and influential people in British music.

Initially, Beattie and Gillespie would simply jam every night, often with the former on guitar, while the latter simply banged together rhythms on dustbin lids, but they eventually began to settle upon a sound that harkened back to the jangly pop of the 60s.

With Primal Scream just ticking along, Gillespie was one day handed a demo tape by another local band by a friend who thought that he might like it.

The demo belonged to the Jesus And Mary Chain, and so thoroughly impressed Gillespie that he began playing drums with them, while continuing with Primal Scream.

There were even occasions when he did both, beginning the night as singer for opening act, Primal Scream, before jumping into the drum stool for the JAMC's headline slot.

Inevitably, however, the situation became untenable as both bands became more busy and when JAMC's Reid brothers issued an ultimatum to Gillespie, telling him that he had to pick one act and dedicate himself as a drummer, he politely declined.

By the mid-80s, Primal Scream had taken on more members and signed with Alan McGee and recorded a couple of tracks including The Orchard (which was so bad that they allegedly burned the master recordings) and Crystal Descent.

The latter was notable for its b-Side, Velocity Girl, which a major inspiration for Stone Roses' overall sound and particularly the track Made Of Stone, a fact immediately apparent upon the first listen.

As interest now grew in the band, they moved to London, where they began working on their debut album, Sonic Flower Groove.

After a few false dawns (and $200,000 of label money) the album appeared in 1987 to lukewarm reviews and follow-up, Primal Scream, fared little better two years later.

It did however contain the track, I'm Losing More Than I'll Ever Have, which would be the determining factor in the band's future.

It was also around this time that the band were exposed to rave culture, which they embraced fully, including the love of the drug ecstasy.

At one such party, they were introduced to DJ Andrew Weatherall, who offered to work on the aforementioned, I'm Losing More Than I'll Ever Have.

The result was the track, Loaded, with its Peter Fonda quote from the movie The Wild Angels, imploring people to have a good time and get loaded.

Suddenly the band had a sound and the release of the resultant Screamadelica in 1991 made them international superstars and gave the public an album for the ages. Then came the fall.

Over the next 15 years, the band descended into a drug hell before ultimately finding a kind of redemption.

In the meantime, they made albums that failed to reach the lofty heights of Screamadelica, and failed to meet the expectations many of their fans, who expected the band to continue to mine the vein that they had essentially created.

Reports claimed that most of the members were on heroin, while others claimed that Gillespie had cracked up and was sitting in a room all day playing one chord over and over.

Journalist, James Brown, spent time traveling with the band and famously reported that on one occasion he heard the band members arguing heatedly over whether they should choose Chinese, Vietnamese or Indian.

Brown attempted to defuse the situation by getting them to agree on a burger instead, only to be told: "It's heroin we're discussing, not food!"

For a time it looked like the band would implode, until in 1998 they made the decision to hire former Stone Roses bassist, Mani, and My Bloody Valentine's, Kevin Shields, injecting life into their sound and inspiring them to continue as serious musicians.

They also resumed their relationship with Weatherall, and in the time since, have released four albums in the shape of Vanishing Point, XTRMNTR, Evil Heat and Riot City Blues, that have scored well with the critics and reminded people of just how good a band Primal Scream can be when they are on form.

Now comes the latest opus, Beautiful Future, which critics are already pouring high praise upon and one that sees the band return to the kind of rock/electronica crossover that they do better than virtually any other act on the planet.

The same sound that has inspired a legion of bands who are only now coming to prominence, with the current explosion in this genre of music.

An impudent journalist once told author Joseph Heller that despite his subsequent output, he had failed to best his legendary novel: Catch 22. Heller's reply: "Neither did anyone else!" The same might be said of Primal Scream, Screamadelica and the genres and sub-genres it inspired.

It's high time that people stopped knocking them for what they are not, or have not done and appreciate them for the marvel of resilience, innovation and influence that they are.