Mansun
Rising to notoriety in the latter part of the mid-90s, Mansun have since established themselves as one of the most distinctive, original and perplexing British acts of our time.
The band exists via the creative musical-inventions spawning from the minds of frontman Paul Draper, guitarist Dominic Chad, bassist Stove King, and drummer Andie Rathbone. Following the meeting of Draper and King – thanks to their similar positions in rival printing-companies – it was their uniting with Chad, manager of a bar called The Fat Cat at the time, which got things moving.
What happened next is slightly mysterious – members such as ‘Mark’, ‘Hib’ and ‘Julian’ faded away from the unit following a lack of stamina over the band’s legendary ‘drink and drugs binges’, as well as a bizarre incident involving one of the men throwing a pineapple onstage at Chad. Hmm. But, the eventual fourth member was set on Andie – found after the assembled three saw him play in a covers-tribute band that were branded The Wondering Quatrains. Ahem. Admittedly, his progression into Mansun was deemed a most welcome change.
After rehearsing and forming songs – some dating back to Draper’s original childhood lyrics – they went under the guise of Grey Lantern for some time before choosing the moniker for which they’re now known – although, a debut-single release didn’t quite get it right, mistakenly printing ‘Manson’ on the record. Oh dear. Still, despite the set-backs, interest soon became paramount, and Parlophone signed up the band, prompting the release of a myriad of EPs and a debut LP, ‘Attack Of The Grey Lantern’ – the title obviously referencing their former collective guise.
Response to the material was ecstatic and support-tours loomed. By the time such singles as the brash riffage of ‘Take It Easy Chicken’, the upbeat chug of ‘Egg Shaped Fred’ and startling eeriness of ‘Wide Open Space’ hit ears, the anticipation for the debut record in early-97 was immense. It entered straight into the charts at number one, the band around the time enjoying the prestige of being the first ever group to receive a Brit Awards nomination before even releasing the full-length effort.
Acting as a concept album, ‘Attack’ is a very classy affair: drenching strings, intricate detail to song-writing, dance-loops, groovy guitar and song after song of consistent quality, the band began selling out tours of their own and spawning one of the most loyal fan-bases currently known to man. To cultivate people’s interest in the music, the band began setting up special services to enhance the relationship between themselves and the record-buyers – granting fanzine interviews to all virtually without fail, dishing out free records and signed photos to those that signed up to the mailing-list, and Stove specifically cultivating the ‘Mansaphone’ – where people can ring up, hear what the band’s current activities are, and leave a message – for King to possibly call you back personally.
Sadly, despite the success, the press were reticent to fully support the group consistently. This was mainly evident for the reserved receptions garnered for their second album, ‘98’s ‘Six’ – an ambitious record, whose content segued effortlessly into unexpected twists and turns, containing not so much as ‘hit singles’ as ‘grand vision and a musical aptitude not seen since Pink Floyd last made a groundbreaking record’. Recorded mostly live, tracks such as both parts to single ‘Being A Girl’, as well as the startling aching of ‘Legacy’ and the manic madness of ‘Shotgun’ and ‘Television’, revealed a band challenging their ability, musical-boundaries and the sheer studio-technology available out there. Timeless, impossible to comprehend in one listen, and masterful, it’s revered by many as a modern, if greatly overlooked, classic.
A more conventional, though still obscure, route followed with the release of third LP ‘Little Kix’ two years later, with yet another top-ten tune formulated – the moody and epic ‘I Can Only Disappoint You’. The record was also the bearer of numbers such as the Bowie-esque ‘Electric Man’, intense melancholy of ‘Comes As No Surprise’, pop-smitten ‘Fool’ and gospel-tinged ‘Forgive Me’. It was further alienation from the cynics, naturally, and yet another bewildering step in their highly-challenging-to-account-for career.
But, for all of the mystery as to their new directions, there is a continual talent and artistic-astuteness currently not possessed by many of their generation. And this is why they need to be cherished. Now.
