Alan McGee - Manager & Label-Boss, Poptones, Winter 2002
By: Toby L
'In the 80s, I had The Mary Chain; in the 90s, I had Oasis; and, in the noughties, I've had The Hives. Whether people like me or don't like me, they have to at least say, 'Well, he's been successful in every decade, so fair enough...'
Time and time again, the music-industry proves itself a location where persisted prevalence and dynamic reinvention is of the essence; those able to offer either, or - in more desired circumstances, both - are on to a winning formula... The cold, brutal beast that this business is, it ain't one to dish out favours - to earn your place, you have to subvert the normal working order, prove your worth, and offer a continual fluidity of goods.
Using the above as our handy guide, then - controversial as he may be - Alan McGee has more than met the requirements to secure himself and his endeavours a place in the rock 'n' roll history-books. Such is his present stature, he doesn't even bother doing interviews anymore - affirmatively, there's nothing left to prove, and little that direct publicity could offer in aiding any of his potential, future work. But, in spite of this, he's agreed to meet us today, during a typical daily round of stopping off at a local restaurant for a light, omelette lunch, in order to discuss present and past projects, and to share a few opinions on the side.
'I'm just having a good time again,' McGee remarks, contemplating his present mixed platter of roles. 'Obviously, Creation Records has now stopped, and we did have some horrendous times within that between 1987 and 1994 which we self-inflicted; when you self-inflict bad times on yourself, even though we made amazing records, you can forgive yourself... But, from about '95 to '99, the bad times were inflicted by Sony, because they turned us 'round from being mavericks.'
Oh yes, mavericks alright. In case you are having doubts, yes - this is the very same man we're meeting on a wintry afternoon that first spawned Creation, one of the UK's most legendary independent-labels, which started in McGee's native Scotland before spreading globally in its following decade in existence. He subsequently terminated it due to the corporatism which had formed around a once, solely musically-indulgent enterprise, partly created via the tag of a 51%-49% split with Sony, who had a prominent role in negotiating matters. Still, seeding careers for the likes of fellow, Scots dance-rockers Primal Scream, the euphoric-pop experimentation of Super Furry Animals and five mouthy drunkards emblazoned Oasis, let alone dozens more, its reputation still remains synonymous as one of the truly great, talent-seeking labels of the past.
'We never ultimately sold our arses,' Alan recalls, in regards to the set-up, 'as - obviously - we never became something like Sony, even though they wanted us to. I mean, I'm not picking on them - Sony are no better, or any worse, than any other majors: it's just how they are. The way majors work is that, you get an act such as Oasis - who have to date sold 41 million albums, or have at least been paid in that - and once you've got that level of success, the (majors) find it hard to concentrate on developing anything else on that label. That then worked to the detriment of our other bands, like Primal Scream, Teenage Fanclub and the Super Furry Animals, and all the other baby-bands. The Hives couldn't have come out and sold a million records on Creation - it wouldn't have happened. Because, as a project, it wouldn't have been given room to breathe. The way the deal was struck between us and them - that was the problem; it was always just gonna be one-way traffic.'
Due to such occurrences, by the time of Creation's final days, is it fair to utter that it had lost some of its original spirit?
'It nearly did,' he ponders, 'but it didn't quite, because we killed it first. The great thing is that I killed it right at the end of the millennium; it was 75% a perfect ending... The perfect ending would have been Oasis to walk off the stage of Knebworth and me go, 'You know what - I'm packing Creation in, now.' That would have been genius (smiles)... But, I didn't do it - so there's no point crying about it.
'But the music I'm really proud to have worked with after that were the two Primal Scream records, and the two Super Furry Animals records, the Trashmonk record, the Arnold records - they're all great; people could say, 'Oh, Creation was bad in the end,' but I really don't think it was. Even the records we got really slagged off for, like Mishka - well, that got to number four in Japan: and that's what people miss out. Even Technique - a track off their album got covered by Coco Lee and was number one in Asia for five weeks. The Kevin Rowland album was beautiful, too - alright, he wore a dress to promote it, not a good move... But was it all a failure? I don't think it was.'
The indecision over its achievements results from a media-backlash incurred leading up to the self-dismissal of the company; at the time, the hacks wrote off McGee's hot-headed rants and failed to support the label's underbelly of rising talent, some acts cruelly neglected and left to become overshadowed amidst the mists of time... It had to end.
Though never one to quit just yet, the conclusion of his prior venture marked the ambitious launch of a new imprint - Poptones: a forward-thinking record-company with a warm consensus to address the positive assets of the Internet, as well as - get this! - fair retail-prices for compact-discs. Expectedly, just like the reactions to some of McGee's publicly-exhibited views, there was a mixed response.
'Some of the things we did with Poptones, we got incredibly right, but some other things, we got wrong,' he acknowledges thoughtfully, before grinning. 'In hindsight, I don't know if we should have put out 25 albums in 18 months... In fact, we probably shouldn't have. But, having said that, who else would have signed The Hives for £2,500 and sold 400,000 albums in the UK alone? Also, who else would have said three years ago that 'records are too expensive - we're going to put them out at £9.99'? One of the reasons The Hives sold 400,000 records was because they were about £4:00 cheaper than The Strokes and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. Obviously, we got some things right, but we're not perfect.
'The operation now, it's just me really, plus one other person; I hated Creation when it was 97 people around the world.'
Ah, The Hives: a Scandinavian sensation that shimmied and Jaggered their way into the public's consciousness at the end of 2001, prompting a sea of identikit, image-based show-men and helping garage-rock to escalate to fever-pitch on both sides of the pond alike.
Contemplating this, Alan realises, 'I always prosper when it's the rock 'n' roll; when it's limp, sub-Radiohead groups, it's just not my kind of music, and I can never really succeed within that sort of environment. When it's rock 'n' roll bands, I know I can do well - because I understand rock 'n' roll; The Mary Chain were a rock 'n' roll band, Oasis were, and The Hives are; in all three decades, I've been successful with that kind of act.'
Yet does that not make you feel confined to dealing in just one specific genre?
'No,' he retorts assuredly, 'it just means that I'm good at rock 'n' roll. But, yeah, I'd love to have said I found Jay Z or Nas, but - in reality - that wouldn't happen. Getting a white Rastafarian in at number-four in the Japanese pop-charts may be good, but it's not quite on the same scale.'
Surely it's a fundamental benefit to recognise your strengths and weaknesses; often, the reason other record-labels become the subject of ridicule is because they attempt to stretch towards parameters that don't reflect their personal knowledge and experience...
'It's called burying the bodies,' Alan clarifies. 'The one thing I've always said about David Geffen is that he's great at burying the dead, but you could never find the bodies; a lot of labels are like that - if they don't like the band, or don't think they're going to be successful, they put them on the shelf for three years, and then the band eventually cry for help and agree to not take any more money, they sign confidentiality-agreements and then they get out the deal. A lot of labels do that to people.'
Such an insight at the aforementioned is the grittier end of the contractual-wranglings that deeply immerse the industry often with so much of its shrouded, mysterious dealings; McGee's honest exposing and depiction of such facts has often led him into unpopular terrain.
'I don't think there are many industry characters, to be honest,' he deadpans in response. 'Lucien Grange, who runs Universal, is a character - as big a character as me. But there's only about four or five people in the music-industry that have got any f**king personality anyway.'
Is it a positive tool to be so opinionated in this line of work?
'I think it's probably a hindrance actually,' Alan smirks. 'I don't really do any interviews these days because of that. I mean, Liam Gallagher got arrested yesterday and somebody phoned me up and asked me for a quote, and I just said, 'I've seen the guy once in the last year, I haven't worked with them for three years - phone their manager; don't phone me, I've got nothing to do with it and Britpop was a long time ago! I love him, and I love them, but go to someone that's working with them now!' I am cynical about the (music-press), and the tabloid British-press, because I know how it works - it's a load of f**king nonsense. But even the people that work for such publications - they're more cynical about what they do than those that read it.'
Despite such (deserved) vitriolic contempt in the direction of the conventional press, there's been plenty to be excited about lately; as if spearheading the 'New Rock 'N' Roll' via The Hives wasn't enough, then what about signing the likes of The BellRays - or his management-role looking after New Zealand party-rockers, The D4? Typical to McGee's history, when a scene has been taking off, he's been there in the thick of it - pioneering, nurturing and delivering.
'These bands have now arrived,' he confirms excitedly. 'Acts like The D4, The Strokes and The Datsuns - they're not gonna go away; they'll make two or three more albums. Will there be an audience in a year's time for it? Definitely. Will there be an audience in two years' time? I don't know. But there's at least a year left in the present rock 'n' roll.
'What's got to be understood is that everything is a reaction against a reaction; Radiohead were ultimately a reaction against lad-ism, or whatever you want to call it, and this is all a reaction against all that Oxford and Cambridge graduates-in-bands thing. I mean, why are people going all the way to New Zealand and Sweden for rock 'n' roll? It's because British bands are not producing great, rock 'n' roll music - there's a couple that are, but - in general - we're not good at the moment. And that's why we've got to go to the Antipodeans and the Nordics for our music.'
Evolution-wise, where do you see it heading next?
'Electro hasn't happened yet, and I think that will happen at the tail-end of next year. Electronic-punk music is gonna happen. The thing about Fischerspooner is that they made a great record - yet everyone slags it off... They're good! I suppose the join on to it are the likes of Radio 4, The Rapture and people like that; if people ask, 'How do we get to electro,' it is probably via these bands along the way...
'Some (of the media) don't have a clue when they say, 'Electroclash is over.' I mean, hello - do you ever go to New York?! Because, I do - and every event related to that is able to attract around 1,000 people! It is going on. In America, Fischerspooner are revered. In England, Fischerspooner are regarded as a joke. It's equally bullshit both ways. What Fischerspooner are is a really good pop group. But, in typical UK-media fashion, no-one's got past the f**king haircut.'
Attracting a similar number of people to the figure lured out to electroclash-themed evenings in NY, yet housed slightly closer to home, are McGee's own nights, dwelling under the guise of Death Disco: a club dedicated to all that's 2002, 1976 and anything worthy in between; the very fortitude of punk-rock, its origin wasn't too calculated.
'I just go through phases of wanting a club and not wanting a club,' Alan simplifies. 'Death Disco is off the back of this whole renaissance of rock 'n' roll, and it's become quite big now; in London, it's OK, but in places like Dublin, we're filling 1,000 people per night. It's got weird. It's almost not a hobby anymore, because it's getting so serious. We're poppy, f**king DJ's really - whatever we pack, we play. We started it as a place we could go and play some records in, and to have a drink. I don't know what legs Death Disco has got - maybe a year left of being important in a particular genre of music. It's not as if anyone's bagging on it as a career; we're just playing records we like.
'Whether 20 people are there, or 1,200 - like there will be on this coming Friday night - it doesn't matter; we'd still go and have a laugh anyway, because me and BP, the other guy I do it with, are mates. Danny, the kid I do it with in London, were talking the other day and I said, 'Whoa, we're getting popular; people are taking it serious now - maybe we should buy a banner or something?!' I think the less you try, the funnier it is.'
Otherwise, additional commitments in the A-McG calendar are booked up advertently via the running of Creation Management. A glance at its present client-roster unearths a stealthy cross-section - former Clash-member and recent producer of The Libertines' debut-LP Mick Jones, fast-rising Danish quartet Mew, solo-star Kathryn Williams, and McGee's latest signing - The 45's, a US act, not to be confused Matt 'Aqualung' Hales' last indie-pop foursome. This isn't taking into hand their relaxed partnership with those aforementioned, suited Swedes.
'I started out when I was about 23 or 24 - eighteen years ago - and I took the Mary Chain on when they were at a stage of playing to ten people,' reminisces Alan of his position as a manager. 'A year later, we were number one in the charts. I found I was OK at it quite soon on; it was simply like, 'F**k me - I'm good at this!'
'I always feel as if I'm a manager that was famous for signing a band,' he continues. 'By default, I became - essentially - a manager that became an A&R man. And now it feels like I've gone back to being a manager. With The Hives, it's a two-way thing; if we want to do it and they want to do it, then we'll continue working together. But who knows?
'We wouldn't manage Boyzone or someone like that, because we'd be doing them a discredit,' he wittily states, in regards to the discernment over the characters they take on. 'We don't understand that boy-band thing, so it'd be a crime if we got involved in that end of it - we'd only f**k it up; they'd all be pissed off when we play Mary Chain records in the back of the bus and tell them, 'You should sound like this!'
If only someone had incurred such advice upon them...
But, having entered his third decade into a world renowned for short time-spans and faster exits than entrances, what is the key to this undeniable perseverance?
'Don't give in, because it's easy to give in,' he insists. 'Follow your heart more than your head, because if you actually believe in your heart that a band is good, you're probably right. Unless you're tasteless.
'And then try and enjoy the stuff you're doing, because - if you don't enjoy it - you might as well go and start working in Barclays, because it's a lot less stressful, and you can go home and 5 O' clock and nobody phones you, and nobody gives you as much of a hard time about anything. It sounds so obvious, but if you don't enjoy it... There's no point remaining in it.'
In bouts of doubt, damage and eventual triumph, Alan's own evident thirst and boundless enthusiasm seems to have been the single gift that has spurred him on. Whether McGee's critics can stomach quite the impact his presence has stirred in the past is irrelevant; as the man himself illustrates, it's the end-result that matters - not the façade of a PR-friendly image... It's just fortunate that music-revellers can remain comfortable in the full knowledge that McGee more than occasionally proves as daring, bold and adventurous as the subjects he discovers and promotes.
Read more about McGee's fascinating history in Paolo Hewitt's recommended biography, 'Alan McGee and the Story of Creation Records: The Ecstasy Romance Cannot Last'
Artists in this article: Alan McGee