Hey, I said at the start of this that it wouldn’t all be boring famous people (Famous people reading this; I don’t mean you’re boring I mean the other famous people. You know who I mean, yeah, them). It’s about people I love or who have had some impact on my life. I first met Corin in 1997 in a club in Boston. His band, The Pills, were supporting The Boo Radleys and, from what I can recall of that long drunken journey into night, we became the best of friends, bonding over Beatles, booze and Baudelaire ( the last being fiction of course, included merely for alliterative kicks). We’ve seen each other a few times since then, Corin and his family have visited us in London and Cardiff and Mary and I have been over to Somerville, Mass to stay with them. A couple of years ago, just after I killed bravecaptain with a swift but meaningful blow to the back of his screwcurl head, Corin organised a few gigs up and down the East Coast. Some were acoustic sets in Coffee Houses and some were normal club gigs. Corin played bass, organised everything and I got drunk and played out of time, forgetting words, tunes, chords and my own name along the way. (I didn’t play again for a long time after that, didn’t do any music. I bought a camera and started sticking images together, waiting for the sounds to return). Otherwise, we make do with transatlantic mails, phonecalls and the occasional random telepathia. He also introduced me to Al fucking Kooper! Serious, we went to his house and everything (’Martin, are you sniffing my records’? Al said to me at one point. I was).
Corin was a member of Boston power pop band, The Pills. He released a solo album full melancholic self doubt and beauty . He also does an ace ukulele version of ‘Head Over Heels’ by Tears for Fears, a song we both love. He lives in Massachusetts with his wife, Darcey and their son, Harrison (The Bee).
I love him.
1. Where are you? Describe your immediate surroundings.
I’m in my stu- stu- studio-otherwise known as the spare bedroom upstairs. I’m surrounded by a Jawa’s phalanx of outdated gear: an RMI electro piano such as Linda McCartney played with Wings, A Hofner bass just like the one her less-known husband played in some band, an analog 8 track recorder, guitars everywhere, thousands of albums and books teetering on over- burdened shelves, a morass of wires and a Fender vibro champ. I’ve got a poster on the wall from when the Pills played in Barcelona and a painting that you gave me.
2. Which Beatle wife would you be?
Oooh, that’s a rough one. I’ll discount wives who were not wives during the Beatle years, so no Olivia or Barbara. I mean, Patti was so cute, but did you read her book? Oofa. Linda had the best marriage, but the worst British accent. Cynthia, I think, is the one to be- even with the shitty end to her marriage. She was there for the all the best parts. Could I be Astrud instead? 3. “Why count the days..” writes Dostoevsky in ‘The Brothers Karamazov’,
“..when even one day is enough for a man to know all happiness.”
What would be your perfect day?
I’ve had a number of perfect days with you and Mary, so I totally dig on old Fyoder’s sentiment (and his travel guides are ace). Actually, lately I’ve been getting really fruity for trees. Me and the wee man have been doing these Sunday hikes in the woods near our house. There’s this big reservoir in a grove of pines and we take our trusty bulldog Pretzel for protection against wild beasties. It’s just beautiful back there: there’s a certain quietness that is unique to a pine grove and the way the sun shimmers through the tops of the trees is very magical. Harrison loves to walk along the edge of the reservoir and he has so many questions, but we usually end up talking about trees. He can identify pine, white birch, dogwood and “the mighty oak”. When we come out of the woods, there’s a huge open space called the sheep fold where people bring their dogs to run. Sometimes, there are a hundred dogs there and one expects to see Steve Winwood in a tweed overcoat with a bunch of Irish wolfhounds. Anyway, if we can find a poo- free spot, Harrison and I lay down and describe the clouds to each other and let Pretzel romp himself into a froth. After a couple of hours, we go home and tell Darcey about our adventures and that’s a pretty perfect day. Sometimes there are snacks.
4. You have been given a box containing infinite song components.
Which of these components would you use to construct the perfect song?
Oh man, I wish. I’d take two parts “wild mercury sound”, a splash of “teenage symphony to God”, the sound of Christianity vanishing and shrinking, a spoonful of truth and then hopefully, somehow add one part originality. That last ingredient is where I always fall short.
5. What was the best job, outside of music, that you ever had?
For 5 years, when I was in my early 20’s, I drove tourists around in big orange trolleys and gave tours of Boston and Cambridge- a fine balance of historical ephemera and ludicrous humor (Ted Kennedy jokes= tips). I was in a continuous loop for 5 years and had this amazing relationship with the city where I got to know every nook and cranny, every meter maid on the route. All the restaurants would give us free food to mention them, it was great. I gave thousands of tours and I think I still hold the record for making the most tips in one day ($304). We had our hats overturned for tips and a little sign above asking for them (which I would do the drum fills from “Won’t Get Fooled Again” on to make sure nobody missed). At one point, I realized that I had become the greatest trolley tour guide in the world. I could get away with unbelievable things on the trolley. Tourists would just do whatever I asked; I convinced a group of guests to follow me off the trolley to go swimming fully clothed in the reflecting pool at the Christian Science Center. I got a whole group of people to yell out “We’re not wearing any pants” during a live newscast the Governor was giving on the steps of the state house. I would stop the trolley and take the whole group for ice cream. One time, when the trolley was full, a blustery red-faced woman yelled at me and said “I demand a ride” and I told her there was a broom in the back. Her husband died laughing.
I was also playing in a band that did a lot of shows in New York at the time and I would get home, take a shower and go directly to work, so I would occasionally have to pull over to “adjust my mirrors” and go vomit in an alleyway before continuing the tour. The entire trolley company was crazy drunkards and many of the ticket sellers were Irish girls with very flexible morals. One time I was giving the tour, looking at the guests in the mirror above me, when in the back row I spotted a familiar face. I kept looking back and discovered Robin Williams sitting in the very last seat with a hoodie on. I made the secret Mork from Ork handshake sign at him and he put his fingers against his lips. I continued with my regular routine and at the end, as he exited, he whispered “You’re a funny motherfucker” in my ear and put $50 in my hat.
6. You live near Boston which, as we are all aware, was named after the ages ago rock band. Have you ever bumped into a Boston?
I do not like the rock band Boston, I do not think they are wicked pissa, no suh. However, when I first moved here, at the tender age of 18, my Mom and I went to the Hard Rock Cafe- we are simple country folk so looking at Prince’s purple cape & boots is quite exotic for us- and I recognized Tom Scholz sitting at a nearby table. Up to that point, the only famous musician I had ever spoken to was hometown hero Daryll Hall and it went well, so I figured I had a knack for it and went over to say hello. I nervously approached and introduced myself, said that I had just moved to Boston to go to music college and he was relatively gracious and wished me luck. We talked briefly about how he made the first Boston album in his apartment with cables running out to a mobile truck to transfer the tapes. It was a perfectly valid interaction, but I didn’t know what else to say. There was an uncomfortable eternity where I tried to “hang” and, grasping for straws, I said to the man who took 8 years between albums “So, what are you working on now?” and he looked right at me and said “Right now I’m just working on trying to eat my lunch” and I slithered away humiliated.
7. I’ve had this headache for weeks now, I’ve taken pills, given up my piano lessons and tried not to stress too much about money and stuff.
What would your advice be?
Despite your magnificent 3-D coiffure, I have long feared that your head will be your un-doing. So much good comes out of it that I can’t recommend a replacement unit, you may just have to soldier on with the one you’ve got. Have you seen a cranium doctor? Regarding worry, there is a case to be made for that being quite reasonable.
8. I know you’ve visited the UK a couple of times. If you had to describe this country and it’s people to an interplanetary researcher what would you say?
That’s a pretty big question. I mean, you know I love you little spotty buggers, but how to put it in words? You know, when I saw that travel show about the guys fishing in Cornwall with their little day boats, I wanted to live there. And when we played in Aberdeen and I spent the night in a hammock surrounded by rabbits, I wanted to move to Aberdeen. And when I saw Leslie Ash in the garden shed in Quadrophenia, I wanted to move to Brighton. And the first time I was ever in Liverpool, it felt like coming home. And certainly there is no more exciting city than London. I guess the question is really more about the people and I suppose you must have as many douchebags as we do, but I’ve never met them. There’s a certain something to English people that can only comes from there having always been an England. You have better table manners than us, for one thing, and the sense of sarcasm without malice is most endearing. Ultimately, you have to respect a culture that reserves a warm spot in their collective hearts for complete loons.
9. What is your favourite time of day?
Whenever I see an e-mail from you in my inbox! Let’s see, I have gotten up to pee at 4:11 AM every night for the last 25 days, so that must be my favorite time of day. I really like that little zone right before I fall asleep when everything gets all cosmic and half- dreamy.
10. The football season is drawing to a close. Tragically, Manchester Utd have won the Premiership. What do
you think of Liverpool’s chances next season?
I feel like Kevin Garnett and Leon Poe’s knee injuries prevented the Celtics from being serious contenders against the Magic in the semi- finals (although it’s arguable whether they would have had any chance at all against Cleveland if they had won the series). Coach Rivers’ reliance on his starters and reluctance to use the bench led to Paul Pierce being ineffectual in game 7 and, coupled with Ray Allen’s inconsistent performance throughout, really blew their chances and fans have a right to question those decisions. I mean, we have a strong bench and two starters with injuries. Why wear them out?
Alright, it’s not going to take too long to spot me is it? Sice is there as well, as is my twin brother, Calum. I can remember all of these names although not necessarily the faces. Mr McCurry (top left) used to be our form teacher as well as managing the school team. He used to smoke all the way through the lessons, lining his butts up on the desk in front of him. I’m convinced my indolence on the football pitch drove him to an early grave. Imagine Berbatov without the talent, that was me - a ‘fanny dancer’. Out there on the right wing I was quick, lightning fast, but easily distracted. I wanted to be good, don’t get me wrong, I just wanted someone to be good for me while I went about more important things, like watching Top of the Pops or reading girls books about gymkhanas and boarding schools.
I didn’t play after 1982. Oh, I would kick a ball around with Sice - I once scored the greatest goal ever scored by anyone within the fading light of a summers evening on a lonesome field in North Carolina. Sice will back me up on this - and we sometimes played a match on tour but nothing serious. Before each game, while somebody was sorting out positions, I would wander out to the right wing, light a cigarette and hope that nobody would pass to me.
Then, somehow, in 1998 Sice and I ended up playing a weekly game run by NME journalists in Regents Park, where, 450 years earlier; Henry VIII had spent many a fine afternoon popping royal caps in deers asses. The day before, I had bought a copy of ‘Michael Owens Soccer School’ video, sneaking it back to my flat for some late night revision. I fast forwarded through the warm up exercises, ridiculous, and drunkenly taught myself the step over with a cushion. On our way to the park Sice and I had to stop off at Oxford Street to buy some footy boots as neither of us had owned a pair for sixteen years. I, of course, bought the most expensive boots in the store. They had lights, three gears and the longest, most brutal metal studs you can imagine. We got to the park, it was a sticky evening, the going was good to barren and my studs were made from plutonium.
I fast forwarded through Sice and the others warming up. Ridiculous. I leant in the shade and smoked a cigarette idly going through the step over technique in my head. Then, while the captain sorted out the positions, I hobbled out to the dusty right wing - moving like I was wearing twenty four high heeled shoes - and waited. I didn’t have to wait long, the ball came to me almost immediately, I pushed it past the defender and ran, pulled a calf muscle, fell over and was sick. As I lay there, pulling bits of puke out of my hair, I saw the scout from Liverpool FC shaking his head sadly and ripping up a contract that had my name on it, slowly walked back towards his car. It was all over..
But then last year ( I didn’t intend to write any of this, I just put the photo up so we could all have a laugh at my hair) while we were staying in London I was strong-armed by my friend Pete to join his weekly Tuesday Night Crouch End Dads Astroturf Game down on Holloway Road. What could I say? It was his house, he held the keys to the fridge. So at the age of 39 I joined in with everyone as they warmed up before wandering out to shiver on the right wing. The ball came to me early again, I collected it, pushed it past the defender and…nothing. I looked down at my legs, wondering why they weren’t pumping down the flank like a pair of Stephenson’s pistons but they stared at me mournfully and shrugged (can legs shrug?) ‘You’re old now la’, they seemed to say ‘now fall over and be sick, nobody will mind’. I didn’t of course, I played on and accepted the fact that my main strength, my burst of speed, had gone - never to return. I played the holding game, even pulled off a couple of stepovers but was generally happy not to be too involved. I turned up for a couple of months until I found an excuse not to. And so into that long dark void of retirement, my trophy cabinet bare and not a punditry job in sight. The end of the road.
Pulverising riffs, tender figures and howling dissonance, Mogwai have been doing it for me for nearly fifteen years now. One of two bands (SFA being the other one) that cause me to yearn for the laughs, closeness and camaraderie that come with being in a band. Funny, generous and fierce - check out ‘Batcat’. I caught up with Martin who, when his heart isn’t exploding or he’s not battering the shite out of Guitar Hero, plays the drums for the best Scottish band since The Jesus & Marychain.
1. Where are you? Describe your immediate surroundings.
We are playing a show in Denver CO tonight in a venue called the Bluebird. The gig is such a dirty, horrible, stinking hole that we have all decided to stay on the bus rather than spend any more time than needs be there. The venue also has a compressor on the PA system which they won’t turn off so the show tonight is going to sound fucking atrocious.
So, I’m sitting on our bus, the aircon isn’t cold enough, the tv doesn’t work and neither does the sound system. All in all it’s been quite an interesting day so far. Speed on the show!
2. I had a proper job once and I am highly offended by the suggestion that what
I do now isn’t considered as such. What’s your favourite thing about not having a proper job?
Well, before Mogwai started becoming our main source of income I used to work in a Cantonese restaurant. I worked there on average 70 hours a week, that included split shifts and weekends. It was pretty hard trying to combine shows and tours etc with that so I quit. Anyway, even although I get paid alot better being in the ‘Gwai, when you are on tour or in the studio the days can be just as long and tiring. I do think that most people back home think it’s all wild parties and snorting coke from bare breasted ladies but I’m sure you know very well that the Mogwai experience is one big sausage party.
Aye, so the best thing about not having a day job is that you get to sleep in as long as you want. I do really like the traveling aspect too.
3. How far is the moon from the earth? Don’t google it, I’ll know if you do. I will.
Stuart once told me it was “about 5miles” to the moon and he sincerely believed that. It must be mentioned that Stuart’s father, who is without doubt the cleverest person I have ever met, makes telescopes for a living.
4. ‘Does she go?’ You used to hear that question alot when I was younger, ‘Does she go?’ Meaning, obviously, ‘Does she go? I used to just say nothing. I thought they meant ‘does she urinate?’ and I would wonder why on earth anyone would want to know that. I also didn’t know that David Attenborough was Dickie Attenborough’s brother until last year. What hilarious misconceptions do you labour under?
My wife told me it’s thinking that I am going to be beheaded by Abu Siaf if I set foot in the Philippines. She has family there and keeps on at me to go over. I keep saying no.
5. Who is the funniest member of Mogwai? Please provide three examples of this.
This is a hard one. I think they are all funny in different ways. If you are talking about which member is always cracking jokes and making people/himself laugh then it would be Francis Barry Burns. Stuart is also extremely funny in that way and has very good patter. He’s really quick witted so can be a bit of a slayer when it comes to slanging matches. Dominic is usually very quiet but also very sarcastic. It’s actually hard to tell when he is being serious. He also has a tremendous knack of having a few whiskies and coming out with some of the best one-liners you’ll ever hear. We’ve got some great new potential song titles from him eg. “drunken horny rage” and “arrested in a bus full of friends” to name but a couple. I guess you had to be there though. And John, John is just funny.
6. People keep banging on about the complex and bewildering number of genres in music nowadays. Now you and I know that this is patent rubbish. There’s ‘Pop’, ‘Rock’ and ‘Electronic Folk Metal’. Now I’m not going tell you which one I think you are (no fear) but maybe you think you’re one of the other ones, ‘Pop’ say, or ‘Rock’. How would define what you do?
Avant hard with hard bits.
Shagging music.
7.New employment laws dictate that you must employ one more member. Who would it be?
Probably our old friend and collaborator Luke Sutherland although I’m sure he’d tell us to fuck off. Luke used to be in the amazing Long Fin Killie and now writes books for a living. He’s played violin and guitar on some of our records and is one of the best human beings I’ve met. He doesn’t drink but likes to stack the empty cans.
8. You can pass three laws that will make Britain a better place. What are they?
First one would be to make me dictator, I would in turn dissolve the Royal family. I would then split the UK into 3 countries, Wales, Scotland and England and give the 6 counties back to the Irish. You take charge of England, give Gruff his beloved Wales.
As dictator of Scotland all public services that were once State owned before that cunt Thatcher sold them off would once again be owned by the people, everyone would have a home. Scotland’s nuclear deterrent would be scrapped and I would give myself a nice country estate to run the country from in a Putin-esque style. Oh, and military service for neds. If they like fighting so much they can do it in the name of Scotland. Utopia, no?
9. What can you tell us about the genesis, writing and recording of the ‘The Precipice’?
We took 4 amps, a generator, a drumkit, several guitars and effects to the edge of a cliff. The very edge. Pressed play on the dictafone and that’s what came out. Sheer majestic majesty .
10. Dominic138 of Twitter writes.
“Minneapolis last night was a bit of a shambles, computer meltdowns, wrong tunings and inter-band onstage confusion. I was awesome though.”
What happened? Did you have a fight, a proper fight with big sticks and Glasgow kisses? Was anyone sacked? Should Dominick be now considered the true heart and ipso facto leader of Team Mogwai?
There was no violence whatsoever. We thought about it but Dom gave us one of his icy cold stares and we all ran like whimpering children. Since Mogwai’s inception in 1995, Dom has always been the cold and calculating evil genius pulling the strings. Stuart always comes across as being the public face of the ‘Gwai but in actual fact he is Dom’s bitch.
This weeks Ten Questions were thrown at Alan McGee. I first met Alan in 1991 in a pub in Hackney. He was seated at a table chatting with Lydia Lunch. I have no idea what we talked about but he put me up in a hotel that night as I had missed my train back up North. Over the years since we’ve had a up and down relationship but he remains, as the founder of my favourite Record Label, Creation Records, a big influence on my teenage years. Now retired, he looks after his daughter and, if his Tweets are to be believed, spends the rest of the time drinking coffee and giving the Finnish staff and assorted WAGs who frequent his pool inspirational talks on the benefits of Sushi.
1. Where are you? Describe your immediate surroundings.
on couch in london till i move to wales in july
2. Anybody following you on Twitter would think that you are a crass, rude, arrogant, money obsessed, caffeine fueled,
sushi gobbling bully, but in person you are a sensitive, generous and articulate man. Do you consciously adopt a public
persona or does it happen naturally after so many years of fighting your corner?
i agree on all points the thing is i truly don’t give a fuck
3. Which year at Creation Records do you feel was your best in terms of artistic/business satisfaction?
1991 1992 for the music we never got rich till 97 i liked the end bit best video ever is kevin rowland video we rocked
4. You once described ‘Wake Up Boo’ as an ‘Atrocity Exhibition’ which, as I’m sure readers will know, was the title of a J.G Ballard novel.
He’s dead now and, let’s be honest, you have to shoulder some of the blame for that. What other records (records, not bands) that came out on Creation would
you rather have come out on another label, if at all?
Loveless isn’t anything and soon I hate mbv I wish I had never signed them tuneless garbage
5. You’ve retired. Is that for good? C’mon you can’t sit around drinking coffee forever. What’s next?
the school run and the great thing is i don’t have to go in
6. If Creation had folded after a couple of singles what do you think you would be doing now?
on a park bench
7. The thing I most like about you is the fact that your interpretation of Rock’n'Roll is whatever you happen to be doing at any given time. Is the idea of
four-pale-young-things-with-guitars-as-rebellious-act redundant now?
no because glasvegas and the grants still make me believe it’s possible
8. I’ve noticed on your tweets that you regularly lambast LA and Shoreditch as being ’shitholes’ yet you live in St John’s Wood which is really just a Beatle-
themed graveyard. Where in the world do you feel most at home?
i actually live in primrose hill all the celebs moved into my road so i moved into another of my properies
9. How many readers of your guardian blog could you fight in one go?
i’m 48 martin then again probably so are they
10. “Fate is kind to me” exclaims Grigory Petrovitch Liharev in Chekov’s ‘On the Road’ ; “I am always meeting splendid people”
Which person were you most glad to meet?
dan treacy of tv personalities he is still a punk rocker and showed me even a twat like me could run a record company
I don’t seem to have any time to put word to the machine at the moment. The days are crowded with things to do. Artwork for the album is almost finished, thanks to Dubai Dave who, unfortunately, is not as dodgy as Mary’s monicker for him would otherwise suggest. I have a folder somewhere full of photographs that I took while making the record but they are lost to me at the moment so they won’t appear on the sleeve which, as I’m sure you will agree, is most unfortunate. If I find them I’ll stick them up here so fear not! You’ll be able to look at pictures of me sweating and singing out of tune to your hearts content.
A couple of weeks ago an illustration that I did for the Times received a number of complaints from Christian members of our community including this one from a Mr Brin Dunsire from Princes Risborough.
Please note this as a formal complaint about Martin Carr’s graphic associated with Caitlin Moran’s article about the 1970’s in the issue of 27th April.
He chose to insert a gorilla’s face over the face of the Virgin Mary, and George Bush’s face over that on the Infant Jesus.
I hope he genuinely did not realise that the icon he chose to use was more than simply a “stock” image of the Madonna and Child; it is in fact an icon known as Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, and is very precious to many Catholics across the world. My interest is that it is special in the Catholic Diocese of Northampton, for which I have the privilege to work ; we have two churches named after Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, and a rare copy of this icon is displayed in a shrine church in Northampton. Catholics do not, of course, venerate pictures and objects as such, but the content and concepts which they evoke, and these may be very intimately held in our spirituality.
Martin Carr may be the kind of person who thinks it is cool and amusing to mock the images associated with religious belief: I can see from his portfolio that this is not the first time he has chosen to incorporate a Madonna & Child image into his cartoons for satiric purposes. But this use was simply gratuitous and vacuous. It is difficult to reconstruct the thought processes involved in deciding to use a Madonna image in the context of illustrating Caitlin’s Moran’s opening paragraph, which itself was purely a whimsical diversion from the main point of her article. Surely, if his point was to imagine a gorilla “nurturing” a Baby Bush, this could have been done in a more clear and amusing way ?
It is also disappointing that the inappropriateness of this kind of material was not picked up by a sub-editor, though I suppose time is short.
You (and Mr Carr) may be tired of hearing this point being made by Christians, but it bears repeating nonetheless; can you genuinely state that you would have no hesitation in publishing a picture of the prophet Mohammed with a pig’s face inserted, if it suited the pure purpose of mocking religion, and the only thing that is stopping you is the fear of possible violence ? Because if your reply would be “ No, that’s not the only reason, it is not right for us to cause gratuitous and unnecessary offence to religious people” then you should not be using illustrations like this simply because they are “only Christian” and you can get away with it without being threatened. What do you say ?
I say nothing Mr Dunsire, if I can’t believe you have nothing better to do than write letters such as this then I would be foolish to become involved in a debate with you, theological, sociological or otherwise.
Actually, fuck it, while we’re here..
I found Caitlin’s column difficult to illustrate that week. I don’t why this is, some weeks the image jumps out at you as you read through but I couldn’t find anything suitable, no overreaching theme that needed illustrating. I decided to focus on a throwaway line she had written about a time traveling gorilla. Hang on, let me find it…
“Going back to the 1970s could help tackle global warming, researchers claim. Well, yes. We’ve all seen ‘Quantum Leap’. Of course Dr Sam Beckett leaping back to 1973, into the body of a climate-campaigning gorilla capable of sign-language, who touches the heart of the young George W Bush forever, could help. That’s not in doubt. We know that.”
Ok, that’s illustration gold right there and who cares whether it fits in with everything else she says. Like the May Fly the page lives for a day before returning to dust and looking at the wider picture, at the daily injustices meted out by uncaring, corrupt, inept politicians, the poverty, the violence, the greed, war, starvation etc It’s not that important. Not really.
The illustration, as you can see, is of a time traveling gorilla using sign language to teach the young George Bush about the benefits of protecting our beautiful planet. It was called ‘Greenilla’. It has nothing to do with religion. I have nothing to do with religion. I’m not an atheist either, I’m not involved. Nor do I think that it’s ‘cool and amusing to mock the images associated with religious belief’. I’m forty years old, I don’t think anything is ‘cool’ (except for maybe Stuart Hall). I love religious images, songs, buildings. I love people who deemed their immense talents to be a gift from a higher being, Diego Maradona, Christopher Wren, Mahalia Jackson etc but I don’t believe what they believe and I see nothing in the various icons that I’ve collected over the years but their manifest beauty. Even if I were willing to guide you through the minutiae of my thought processes, I couldn’t do it. Inspiration works at speeds many, many times faster than light. I threw some images together until it looked like I wanted it to, that’s all I did and if that offends you, I don’t care. Obviously the sub-editors at the Times feel the same way as I hand my illustration in three days before publication.
And you’re damn right I wouldn’t put a pigs head on Mohammed. I’m scared just to type it out. I think visually and as there is no visual representation of Mohammed permitted, the thought would never occur to me. I didn’t stick an apes head on Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, I pushed pixels around a screen until they were ordered in such a way that I liked.
This week I telekinetically winged ten questions over to the force of mouthture that is Caitlin Moran. Caitlin used to write for Melody Maker and now writes for The Times and appears on TV spouting rubbish about crap. I first met her in Dublin at the beginning of 1994; I was trying to eat my dinner without interrupting an almost perpetual influx of beer and cigarettes and she was standing on the table, on the table mind, shouting her damn fool head off. I thought she was a nob, Queen Nob, but within hours of that we were best friends and I love her to bits. She has done much for me and my family but despite earning over a million pounds a year and living in a castle she still can’t beat me in a Beatles quiz, not even the ones where she writes the questions (her favourite kind of quiz). She can talk on any subject for at least ten minutes, makes a mean Victoria Sponge and has trained her youngest child to torment me, possibly into an early grave. Beautiful, funny and clever, it’s the only thing we both agree on.
1. Where are you? Describe your surroundings.
I am in my kitchen, which is based around the themes of RED, CAFFIENE and ORANGES SLOWLY ROTTING IN THE FRUIT BOWL MAKING A BAD SMELL. On the fridge there’s a torn-out picture of Michael Sheen looking sexy as Brian Clough. All the women of the house are enjoying how confusing this is.
2. Which childhood experience has had the biggest effect on your writing?
At the age of thirteen, through long and tortuous events too tedious to go into, I believed that I had brought about the downfall of my family, who were very poor, and in a precarious situation. For the first month after my indiscretion, I would run an answer the doorbell whenever it rang, believing that if it were the bailiffs, I might be able to simply talk them out of it, using my considerable charm, before my parents found out. When I realised that I might occasionally have to leave the house – thus leaving the entire family in peril – I decided I would simply have to earn enough money to save us all, so I started writing a minimum of 2000 words every day, until I’d finished a book. I couldn’t believe I’d finished a book at the age of fourteen! And then, when it was accepted for publication, I couldn’t believe that my desperate desire to save my family with a humourous childrens’ novel had succeeded! Then they told me I’d only get £1600 for it, and I realised I might need to switch to Plan B. Ponzi schemes.
3. Yesterday, Sonny and I explored a few back alleys in Grangetown with my camera, looking for peeling paint and arcane graffiti.
On one wall somebody had sprayed, in blue paint, ‘1996 The Year of Progressive House’. Is that how you remember that year?
I spent all of 1996 extremely stoned, in the first year of the relationship with the man who is now my husband. We became so indolent with marijuana that we used to lower a basket out of the window when the pizza-man came, so we didn’t have to go down two flights of stairs. He would put the pizzas and the change from £20 in the basket, and we would haul it back up again. As a consequence, 1996 was the year I became so fat I spent all summer wearing a nightie and a pair of Nike hi-tops, because I thought a chunky shoe would make my legs look thinner, by contrast.
4. In the style of Twitter (104 words max). What are you most afraid of?
The kind of insanity where you become very fat and shit yrself every time you make a joke.
5. Cheese or Chocolate?
CHEESE. This week - Comte. Waxy yet slightly crunchy, with salt crystals. And a celery-salt biscuit on the side. The Moran family is famous for having invented the dish “Cheese on Cheese.” It even has a theme-song (singing the words “cheese on cheese” to the tune of “Girls On Film” by Duran Duran.)
6. “Man, these things are instant imagination” Says Winston in Paul Beatty’s ‘Tuff’ as he polishes his gun on the stoop
“It’s like having a good idea, but you don’t know exactly what it is yet”
Do you have a single muse or totem, an object/idea/memory/person that inspires all your work?
Yes. Russell Crowe in Master and Commander, shouting “Never mind the manouvres – just go straight at them!” Alan Coren’s advice: “The first idea that occurs to you, will have occurred to everyone. The second idea that occurs to you, will have already also occurred to the clever people. But your third idea – only you will have had that one.”
7. Your first book was published when you were only fifteen. You’re thirty four now , how is the second one coming on?
*pious face* I’ve written three of the most important stories of my life: my marriage, and the early years of my two children, Dora and Eavie. You cheeky fuck. Anyway I’m turning out pissing 5000 words a week for Rupert Murdoch – I haven’t got time to menstruate, let alone write a book. Get off my fucking back. Holy mother of God.
8. Ok, here’s your big shitty stick. Who you going to beat with it?
All the people Ben Goldacre is annoyed with in Bad Science. He seems to have researched their shitness very thoroughly.
9. What happens after we die?
When I was seven, I used to think you might get your own planet, and be God of it. Now I suspect you just rot in the ground like an old dog, but I haven’t told the kids yet. They think they’re off to Disneyland.
10. I think everybody is aware that it was totally your fault Kurt Cobain killed himself. What other pivotal roles have you played in era defining moments of popular culture?
