My Bloody Valentine
The output of Kevin Shields, leader of My Bloody Valentine, as producer, player, and remixer Contributions by Bilinda Butcher outside My Bloody Valentine 6. .. There's a really interesting article about him in Spin from a little ways back. .. Here are some tracks to avoid that have no relation to Kevin Shields or My Bloody. Kevin Shields on the haircuts of the mid-'80s indie scene. “It was quite a spooky place,” remembers Bilinda Butcher. “The studio was in a. Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine their financial dealings with MBV, or how the strain has affected their relationship with the group. Decamping to Europe on the advice of former Virgin Prune Gavin Friday, the nascent Valentines – now incorporating guitarist Bilinda Butcher, bassist Debbie Googe.
In London, punk ruled but further north people listened to northern soul. I loved northern soul and used to go to all-dayers since I was too young to go to clubs.
You know they had the all-nighters at Wigan Casino, that was the place to go. There were a couple of places, Nottingham Palais and Matlock Bath who arranged all-dayers instead.
You went there in the morning, listened to music and danced all day. What type of area did you live in? We were living in an area called Golden Valley, it had one pub and a couple of houses and it was all very conservative. A friend of mine dyed his hair green one day.
Bilinda Butcher – Wikipédia, a enciclopédia livre
When my mother saw him she forced him to wash it with Ajax before his mum would see it. Probably pretty embarrassing for you? She was a bit special. To dye your hair was very uncommon at the time, it was something you would perhaps do if you lived in the city centre of Nottingham or Derby. In Golden Valley, I was considered a weirdo. My clothes were different. For a long time, I only wore clothes from the s that I bought in a shop called Penny Feathers in Nottingham.
My friend Dian — the guy who dyed his hair — had a portable gramophone that we used to bring to the forest where we listened to records. My mother thought I was up in the clouds. I never watched the news or read the papers; it was like I lived in another era. Everybody was into punk and I was living in the 20s and 30s.
My Bloody Valentine: barbed wire and aliens in the garden - Telegraph
How old were you? Then I went to London to study and to go to gigs.
I saw Bauhaus, Sisters of Mercy and loads of other Goth bands. I went to dance classes too but had to quit because I got sick. I had a chronic urinary infection. It was a nightmare to get in and out of the tricot. The doctors seemed to think it was something young girls get when they move away from home and start to have sex. In the end, I had a serious liver disease because of it. It was a shame I had to give up dancing, I loved it. After that, I worked as a nanny with a French family for half a year, then my mother died and I had to go back to Derby to sell the house as my dad had already passed away.
I think back on some of the gigs and really wish that I could see them today instead. Especially Birthday Party and Cramps.
We lived in Paris for half a year. What were you doing in Paris? They are the coolest fucking sonic visual experience we've got.
You can't beat My Bloody Valentine with a big stick! Only having your brains blown out with a massive shotgun while on acid comes close to My Bloody Valentine!
Worship at the altar of My Bloody Valentine! Religion sucks, but the closest thing to religion we've got is My Bloody Valentine …" Strange that four outwardly calm individuals should consistently attract such extreme reactions.
A band whose languorous work-rate makes three-toed sloths seem hyperactive, who never commit themselves to even the vaguest statement of intent, who dress like woolly mammoths and spurn the glittering limelight of cult success. A band whose lyrics rarely refer to anything remotely recognisable and whose alien music screams down from a candy-floss Valhalla, rubbing its sleepy eyes as it plummets earthwards. Yes indeed, there's plenty more where that came from — MBV have inspired more fanciful flights of purple journalistic prose than any other group of the past decade, for one simple reason: Drugs is an obvious favourite.
Sex and dreams and extreme violence are up there, too. Very few critics mention aquariums or kitchen utensils, but they might just as well do. Such vanities are not on Kevin's mind after the Reading show. Characteristically modest in his critical post-mortem, he complains: There are slack moments of routine grunge-rock in tonight's set, but everything else is a fiercely controlled fireworks display of overheating psychedelic noise. Strafed by strobes and bathed in eerie purple light, the Valentines surgically extract immaculate sound-symphonies from their awesome new album Lovelessand methodically mutilate them almost beyond recognition.
Bone-crunching dance beats and ethnic twiddles from their two recent EPs, Glider and Tremolo, also make a strong showing. But it is the fragments of 's seminal Isn't Anything LP that really rock Reading, particularly a mutant cousin of Feed Me With Your Kiss which emerges from an ear-splitting minute encore of apocalyptic thunder.My Bloody Valentine - en concert -Paris Bataclan 2013
World War III contained on a single stage — call MBV an art band if you want, but this brain-bending display is the closest thing to the catharsis called rock'n'roll anyone here has ever witnessed.
It amounts to a triumphant piece of self-justifying theatre from a band many thought could never match the slamming brilliance of Isn't Anything, a band shrouded for three years in rumours concerning scrapped recordings and suicidally spiralling studio costs.
Judging by the album's critical reception, the future of both band and label seems assured. When the buzzing hordes of acolytes from post-Valentines bands RideLush, Chapterhouse and Slowdive dissipate from the dressing room in Reading, Kevin is finally willing to nail those rumours.
They felt strained, but nothing special: However, one source contradicts Kevin by hinting that the quarter-million figure belongs to Loveless only. Enigmatic label boss Alan McGee will only reveal "It cost a lot of money, but we all love the album". In their pre-Creation days, MBV discovered a sonic frequency which causes physical pain and purposely used it to make their live sets very uncomfortable for audiences: The fun is in watching people's faces.
That's why we light the audience up, to see their discomfort. I loved bands like the Ramones and didn't know much about the history of music, so as far as I was concerned The Ramones appeared from nowhere.
I didn't know about all these 60s garage punk bands.