March 1999 - Mani appears on "No Disco" TV Show
Notes: Mani Interview on Irish TV
Broadcast: No Disc - Ireland TV?
Mani : "The mandate is exactly the same as the Stone Roses, right... everything you do, try and make sound like a million light years away from what you did before... so what we've, well, er, what I've written so far *wink*, em, sounds a million miles away from Vanishing Point... but sounds pretty good... a bit punky and stuff... yea, a bit more punky I think... but still as tripped out, paranoid and wired as it ever was... you can't not be like that with the Scream, ya know what I mean... ya know what kinda guys they are..."
Interviewer : "Yeah... it's so unpredictable though..."
M : "Yea, well anything can happen, ya know... we could go in and make a double LP... we could go in and make an LP of traditional Irish music next week, ya know... anything can happen with these guys, because they're so talented, and they can swing it and they go into the studio and they go "right, let's make a jazz/funk record", then we'll make a jazz/funk record... then next time, "let's do a punk record" ... they're very under-rated musicians them guys... Andrew Innes is a complete genius... everyone used to go on about how much of a genius Johnny Squire was, which he is, but now I find myself in a band with yet another one, and Duffy the keyboard player is an absolute genius.. yeah... "
**** Burning Wheel video ****
M : "Big Bobby Gillespie as we like to know him, was er... I forget which year it was now, but they had their telephones bugged when it was the miner's strike and all that going on... MI5 on the case... harassing them and what have ya... that's why Bobby's heart's in the right place, ya know... we're all from similar kinda backgrounds... we're not puffy old Tory Brits man... "
I : "The next time you're over, I mean, the next time you're over with the Scream, we've gotta have a chat with Bobby... "
M : ".. oh definitely... he's a very articulate and highly intelligent boy, very much so."
*** Primal Scream footage ***
I : "The fact that you joined them when they were working on Vanishing Point, I'm always thinking, I wonder if Mani had been with them when Screamadelica was being planned or whatever, would it have sounded the same?"
M : "Strange hypothetical one that, but er, it would have sounded as mental 'cause at the time we were all doing the same things if ya know what I mean, ya know, the E and all that... so we were doing the same in Manchester as they were down in London, so I reckon it would have been pretty similar.... maybe a bit more strung out in my case, I don't know... *laughs*"
*** Kowalski video ***
I : "When Vanishing Point came out, I decided to go and get the video out again and watch it, and I was watching and going "where is the inspiration for an album from this film ?"
M : "...well what it was was, er, the soundtrack was pretty poor, don't ya think, on the original film, so we thought we'd do a couple of soundscapes that'd go better if they ever wanted to remake the film, so that we'd get the bucks for supplying the soundtrack or something, ya know what I mean *laughs*, but yeah, Gillespie's a real big road movie fan as are the rest of the guys..."
*** If They Move, Kill 'Em video ***
M : ".. yea, that's how LPs should be, it should take you somewhere ya know... click off the lights in your bedroom, bang yer feet up and light up a big fat one and just let the music take you somewhere... I mean, music that doesn't take you anywhere should be put up against a wall and shot, I think.. no, it's from the heart... where the Scream's concerned, the music's from the heart... we mean it... we really do mean it... and we're meaning it even more now..."
I : "Why are you skirting around it ?"
M : "Well we're in some contractual nonsense with this, Complete Music, the publishing firm who was over the boys before.. see eh... they reckoned we had one LP to do so Innes made a solo LP... electronic music for the cinema... Innes and Duffy made it, and that should have got us out of the deal, so we're free to negotiate another deal, but they're saying "no, it doesn't count" and stuff, but it does count... it was an LP of music man... and mighty fine music it was too..."
I : ".. and are they saying that just because Primal Scream wasn't written on the cover... "
M: "... yeah probably, that's probably it... it was by... "The Completion" it was called, which means the completion of the deal, ya know, and they're kicking off, but er... as soon as all this is sorted out, then we're away..."
*** video continued... ***
M : "... I've written a song that sounds like The Who in 1964, a proper can't explain kinda thing, sounds good, yea... did another couple of like, punk rocky numbers... a dubby kind of number... what the other boys have got, I don't know... ya know, I've just committed my own stuff to tape and stuff... but I'm sure there's like, eh an old raging torrent of tunes just ready to cascade as soon as them doors are open... ya know, it's up to... ya know... let the legal eagles sort it out... I'm bored with all that legal shit now... it's wasted me too much time in the past... destroyed me whole band... I won't let it... I'm fucked if I'm gonna let it destroy the Scream... no way."
** She Bangs the Drums with footage **
M : "... well, it was a real personal thing for Ian 'cause Ian and John had been friends way before I came on the scene... ya know... I knew them from when we were scooter boys and stuff, and I knew them from that time... when I actually first met Ian was getting his crew from south Manchester... the posh part of town, to come to my part of town, the north side, to come and kick the living daylights out of these national front skinheads and what have ya... but, ya know, it was like having his arm ripped off... it was like having his arm ripped off, but on the same token right, I think Johnny Squire had to do what he had to do... ya know, a wounded animal... what's the best thing to do.... ya know shoot it, kill it... if you were Prince Charles... not me but... know what I mean..."
I : "So do you think the right thing was done, breaking up at the time that you did ?"
M : "I do... I think we all needed to get away and explore our own little things and all that... yea, we'll always still be friends... yea, I still... I go and watch the Seahorses and see John... I saw Ian in Tokyo... and now since he's been in the barry place, I didn't see him 'cause I've been busy since he's come out of prison and that, but eh... I'll be on the phone to him, probably when I get home from Ireland, and go "I've just met some friends of yours", and have a chat with him... ya know, friendship can't die in that way....
*** Love Spreads video ***
I : "... I mean, he's the only person, that I would say, that if you were thinking about a reunion, that Ian would be like "Don't know about that"... I'd say the others might be into it... what do you think ?"
M : "I would think that Ian would have no problem working with me.... I would have no problem about working with John... the key to the conundrum is... Alan John Wren... the Reni... the drummer... 'cause he's the guy who first decided it wasn't happening and slunk off... and I know sometimes I think, should we get it back together, just for one time and do it, do it rightly, but then I think, why, why should we bother... I don't know... I know the people would probably like it but it'd probably go against all our philosophies of like, "we're only in it for the money"... I don't know... "
*** Ten Storey Love Song video ***
M : "... if we ever were to get back together again, I reckon we'd be ten times better than we were, because we've all had our little break from each other... ya know when ya know the smell of someone's feet, and ya know the smell of someone's scrote after ten years of living on a tour bus with them.. they really begin to piss ya off when ya see someone doing something like picking their nose and... it really gets ya angry and shit, so... we've only had two years apart... who knows what might happen in the future... new millennium... who knows... but having said that... I'm happy with the Scream... they'd be content to give me six months off to go and get it out of my system and then come back to the Scream... they're my family now."

April 1999 - Leagues Mag
Notes: Mani Interview In Leagues, Irish Magazine, Early 1999. Interview Conducted 06 February 1999 Saturday - The Complete Stone Roses, Mean Fiddler, Dublin.
He's the godfather of modern British music and he has a grin like a Cheshire cat. He is Mani and he's the man who links the Stone Roses to Primal Scream.
In Dublin for a DJ gig with The Complete Stone Roses, he talks to Leagues about rock, roll and everything else that matters. Gary "Mani" Mounfield is the cat who got the cream. He left Britain's greatest cheekbones 'n' melody guitar band of the last twenty years in a mushroom cloud of industry turmoil, popstar breakdown psychosis and some seriously bad vibes. The Stone Roses were the band that supposedly would illuminate the importance of white-boy British guitar bands and take it beyond the parameters of a national genre during the Nineties. Instead they tripped over hurdle after hurdle and evaporated the sense of romance they'd projected so effortlessly, leaving us with a barrage of whoring Led Zep riffs and nihilistic biblical babble. Drummer Reni rapidly split from public view. Lauded guitarist John Squire took a wrong turn down trad-rock avenue with the dismal Seahorses. And the iconically poised singer Ian Brown made a patchy solo album, dropped interview clanger after interview clanger and even found himself serving time.
At this point in time, Mani claimed that the only other bands he'd conceivably join were the Beastie Boys, the Jesus & Mary Chain or Primal Scream. It was an invitation all too irresistible for Bobby Gillespie, and soon Mani was dropping dark and deep basslines over the Scream's awesome dubbed-out and paranoid soundscape. With Primal Scream, Mani not only found co-conspirators for his voyage of far-flung dub-psychedelia but also a common lifestyle.
Tonight, Mani is the guest DJ for the Complete Stone Roses at the Mean Fiddler in Dublin, a tribute band who relive his former glories for him. He's quite content to celebrate the legacy of his old job, mingle as the guest of honour and shoot the breeze with every starry-eyed disciple that approaches him. Mani is the living embodiment of rock & roll in the Nineties. While everyone around him blows their cool, Mani races from party to party with a 200 horsepower constitution that could easily drink, snort, smoke and shag Brian Jones under the table. Any day. These are pretty weird circumstances to be visiting Dublin, Mani.
"It is pretty weird but I'm buzzing to see it because I've never seen The Stone Roses, you know what I mean. I first heard about Stone Roses tribute bands when the Scream played the SFX and I saw a poster for The Stoned Roses and I thought, 'I'd love to turn up at that and see their faces.' But apparently these guys tonight are good. Apparently they can play the songs really well, probably better than us at our most E'd up when we couldn't hit a note. They gotta be better than that man. I just love being out of the house. All I'd be doing now is sitting inside watching Casualty, waiting for Match of the Day, having a few fat spliffs. Listen, any chance I get to come 'ere mate, I'm having it. Last weekend we did Scotland and this weekend over here. More power to the Gaels, man."
Some musicians really resent the idea of other people making money out of their music in a nostalgic context. You don't see it that way?
"At the end of the day...it's only f***in' music and you can't be too precious about it or you'll turn into an amadan."
If you were to be in a tribute band, who would be the subject matter?
"Oh, I'd love to play with the Jimi Hendrix Experience tribute band. I'd be Noel Redding obviously. I've been working on Ian Brown's guitarist Aziz Ibrahim's solo album and he's done a few tunes with Noel so I think I'm probably gonna get to meet him. Apparently, he's a right old arsehole."
He lives in Cork and there was a newspaper story about how he now plays guitar in a local pub for 50 quid a night.
"He's a jobbing musician man. That's what it comes down to. I'll probably end up the same, but hopefully not."
What would you like to do? "Just to have loads of kids and spend every night playing and drinking. Playing is the only thing I know how to do apart from football hooliganism and thieving. No, I'd love to continue playing music. The thing is finding someone you can click with so I'm lucky in that respect. I've had two excellent bands, so who knows what the future holds. I might get hit by a bus tonight. I might get hurt DJing. You never know. "
You've got one little boy already? "Joseph Christian Mounfield. A beauty he is. You know "The Second Coming" sleeve, the picture of me as a kid? That's how he looks. It's genetic. The poor bastard (laughing). He's beautiful, man. I'd like him to get into music because it's not done me too bad. I don't know what his Mum would think though."
What would Ian Brown think about you sharing the bill with a Stone Roses tribute band? "I think he'd get a good laugh out of it. I haven't seen him since he's come out of chokey. I feel for him. He's a good kid, he just has to get back on his feet, get his arse back in gear. He'll be alright, that kid."
How did the whole DJing thing come about? "I just kinda fell into it. Smithy (Phil Smith) who lives in me house has been travelling as DJ with Oasis, so I just dug me vinyl out and said 'I'm doin' a bit of that an' all.' I enjoy it because I'm a music lover and I've got some proper, obscure funky soul grooves, lots of rare grooves and sh*t. That's what I'll be playing, some proper good funk."
Would you agree that DJ culture is the great rock & roll swindle Part 2?
"Yeah, Fat Boy Slim getting ten grand for a gig on New Year's Eve. That's bonkers. Whoever the promoters of these gigs are, I'm bang up for it, man. And I'm a f***in' legend (laughs)! But it's another interpretation of other people's music. I suppose it's an art form in itself. I saw those guys from Bass Odyssey last night. When they were getting the scratching going I was well impressed. I need to get some decks in me house and learn how to do that sh*t. It'll be cool. There's nothing I can't do. I could be the f***in' Primate of Ireland if I wanted."
What's the state of play with Primal Scream? "We're in a bit of murky water at the minute with this publishing company who are trying to screw us for another LP when we've already fulfilled the thing with them. So once again it's this court monkey business that follows Gary Mounfield about, man. It's put the breaks on it for a bit. We've got songs but we're just a bit reluctant to record them just in case this label says we want them now. We wanna get a new deal and then it's buzz for us. What we have written is staggering. It's punk, rock, dub, The Who, The Stooges on "Raw Power", everything. It's just a step on from "Vanishing Point" again. It's a lot more experimental as well. That's what I like about it, it's dangerous."
Do you think you were undervalued as a musician in The Stone Roses?
"Most definitely. When you've got a guitar player as great as John Squire and a drummer as great as Reni and a singer who is as pretty and as great as Ian Brown...I sort of preferred taking the back seat. I used to get a buzz off watching the three of them do it. But I'm no slouch when it comes to the bass guitar. And I'm getting a chance to prove meself now."
Primal Scream are, I take it, fairly conducive to your own lifestyle?
"We've got a lot in common (laughs). I astound the Scream with my energy, my capacity to party. It's just the way I am. I love life, man. You'd never see me doing a Kurt Cobain. What's great with the Scream is, and it might sound corny, but it's like being part of a family again. It always was with The Stone Roses, we were so tight. And it's the same in the Scream. I always knew it was gonna work. Under the Bosman Rule, Mounfield is free to move now. And it's the best move I could've made. I'm nudging Gillespie out of the middle, man, and having it for myself!"
The sight of 500 Stone Roses aficionados burning up the dancefloor to Northern Soul, rare groove, electro and funk records is odd, but it is Mani manning the decks and this man has considerable influence over these people. The Fiddler's backstage room is a heaving pit of bowl-headed adoration. Mani is the perfect host, signing autographs, shaking hands and greeting every "you changed my life" with "ha, go on out of that, mate". He finds a loose "eke" in his pocket and offers the remains of his supplies to his newfound buddies before exiting from the back-door where he stumbles and spills his records down the stairs. He leaves us, though, with one last thought for 1999.
"I think music is gonna reverse polarity and something new is gonna happen. Hopefully people will come round to our way of thinking because we got something to say. I really believe that. Then again, you can't predict what the record buying public of the world is gonna do, can ya? I'd like them to buy Primal Scream records so I can drown in a guitar-shaped swimming pool. That's my ambition, a rock & roll death."

September - October 1999 - On Target Magazine includes Mani Interview
Notes: Mani talks about scootering, the early days of the Roses and how he currently gets on with the other ex-Roses. Interview conducted 1999 - The Dry Bar Manchester. See Primal Scream Media for the complete article.
On Target Magazine. MANI ON ROCK The Dry Bar. Manchester. Happy hour. The enterprise might have been a more appropriate name for this big-city boozer tucked quietly into the afternoon. Happy hour illogically made perfect sense as it stretched warp-star like from four 'til eight. That he was late was significant only in so much as we weren't ready. Nodding as we ordered the first round in acknowledgement of the absentee's perfect timing, beads of sweat glistened like melon seeds on our brows and palms ran as though we were about to meet a hero. After two pots we decided he was running late, after three he's forgotten to remember, after four we were decidedly early. He arrived in electric blue and though the Ben Sherman fizzed it did nothing to shock the voltage of the vital-wide smile that topped it so comfortably.
We'd met to talk scootering and music so naturally we kicked off with football. Holding back tears over the treble, for a couple of lads from just west of Leeds, was marginally less trouble sat with a cosher native who'd lived, died and survived that night in the Camp Nou. Though tears walked out when he said he'd missed the third goal setting fire to the skunk that would calm the nerve.
In fact judging by the strength of the spliffs he demolishes it wouldn't surprise you if the entire attendance missed it passively. Apparently Barcelona's air traffic control division recorded an unusually high level smoke ring that night, the size of a football stadium, which had caused pilots to complain of acute hunger coupled in more severe cases with a frightening whiteness likened to that of a debutant Englishman. Which is strange, as it was probably Jamaican.
Mani's passion for scooters had never been in question but given the fever football pitches from that particular theatre in such halicyon days it could have paled. But then...
"My first ever scooter right, believe it or not, was an Innocenti Lambretta LI 150 an' I swapped a gas fire with my uncle Ian for it - he used to ride it to work. So I swapped this old gas fire that was in my bedroom that I was doing out. I was still a punk at the time. I remember I used to fuckin' ride it around in tartan bondage pants and all that round our way. This is startin' from '79 I went on my first run down Scarborough that year. I was at the riot in Keswick in '81. Yarmouth, Isle Of Wight, fuckin' Morecambe, Blackpool, been all over. We had a right good mob, we used to just live for the fuckin' bank holiday weekend, just meet up about fuckin' sixty or seventy of us sat outside our house, my mam'd have the fuckin' brew on an' all that then we'd set off. Yeah. It was great."
Did that play a part in the Stone Roses early following?
"It played a part in the Roses getting together really. The first time I met Ian Brown I used to live in North Manchester an' we were havin' some trouble with some NF skinheads so we got in touch with Mike Phoenix who runs Phoenix Heinz. He brought his crew up to join up with our lot to go give 'em a pasting and that and that's where I first met Ian so we sort of clicked from there. Hospitalised these cunts an' then decided to form a band about two years after. I first met John Squire via a friend of mine who's another scooterist. We used to go to a Northern Soul room Pipps in Manchester an' we just decided to get a band together an' what have you. So I started pre-Roses in about '81 with Squire an' all that."
Was that The Mill? "No, that was after I started off with Andy Couzens who was in the original Roses line-up. Brummy Rob a Rude boy skinhead who used to used to sing before Brown."
What about Keizer? "He used to sing and all that but he got a bit too zeig-hally Mr Keizer so we had to let him go. So I started with John an' then Ian come into the picture. Then I fucked off travelling round France an' all that doin' what you do when you wanna see a bit of the world. I rejoined them back in '87 when they'd learnt how to dress properly 'cause they were a bit Gothy weren't they? So I had to sort that out straight away man you know what I mean? No I wouldn't say they were Goths ever really. John used to dress a bit more psychedelic with his paisley shirts an' weirdy pants and all that. Ian Brown was just like always a scooterboy - crewcut, bomber jacket, 501's and Docks. That was Ian's look for years man and an occasional pink flat-top would fuckin' get on his head somehow, you know what I mean? I think he only had that when he rode his pink chopper if you know what I mean? I was always a bit of a fuckin' scally, we didn't have Mods in our crew just Perry boys - mad bad bastards man, scooter thieves a lot of 'em were, bad boys but alright."
What other clubs do you remember bumping into? "The scooter club I remember from the Scarborough of '79, who we had a right fuckin' tear-up with, was the Scunthorpe Pathfinders. Fuckin' hell our lads all had orange helmets on as something had gone on the night before. I couldn't tell you what. I was slaughtered pissed somewhere. Yeah one guy had come in with a sword and slashed my mate down his sheepskin an dished out a couple of beatings probably well deserved. So that's the first time I ever crossed paths with another scooter club. I always remember the Mansfield Monsters from the runs, but my fuckin' favourites, which Ian Brown used to associate with as well, were The Virgin Soldiers from Ursham down South. A right bunch of pirates - fuckin' eyes missing, scars - yeah a right rum crew them lot. We always used to meet up, a lotta Scottish kids an all that, it's always been popular up there scootering."
We're trying to give the scene a bit of a boost up there at the minute. You know, run features and all that. It's just a matter of introducing new blood in order to help stabilise things in the future. It's important for the next generation. You know what I mean? "That's good that is, just what's needed throughout. I wanna see a return to that. I remember when there were ten fuckin' thousand at Scarborough, a right good turn out I've still got a right wedge of photos from that. I remember everywhere you went just the whiff of two stroke - fuckin' lovely that. Mani heaven."
They're expecting thousands at the Isle Of Wight. "That's good. I'll have to get the rundown and see if I can make a couple of the later ones. Just get my scooter out, get the kid on the back and get down to it. I love it, grown with it. We all used to be into the Northern Soul and that, goin' to see Edwin Starr at Great Yarmouth an' Major Lance an' all them at all nighters an' just doin' speed an dancin' all night."
That comes through in your bass style.
"I'm not ashamed to admit I do fuckin' pilfer and plunder from wherever you know what I mean? You can't help but wear your influences can you? Unconsciously sometimes, others very deliberately."
It's just funky music to dance to. It gives it the groove, do you know what I'm saying? "Yeah we were all big fans of soul an' all that. Manchester's always had a good soul contingent and it's still going on now. Just down the road from us at Stockport where The Crusaders are from there's a fuckin' Northern night at the Reform Club or sommut. I was just walking past one night and I heard 'The Snake' beltin' out an' popped my head round an' they were all Shermaned up an' sta-pressed slidin' about, fuckin' proper."
Is there a working title for the Scream's new album?
"Not as present. We wouldn't have a clue what we're gonna call it. We've been mixin' ourselves with Brendan Lynch who does Paul Weller's gear. We've farmed a couple of more dancier numbers out to like David Holmes and The Automator in New York and various other people, we're just letting people have a go again. We'll probably get Andy Wetherall to come and have a little blast at a few. It's sounding pretty similar to how Vanishing Point was - very fuckin' diverse again with some good tunes on there yeah, yeah. I'm excited again about music I really am - it's taken the Scream to do it again for me again after The Roses all fuckin' imploded an' that. I could have easily given up you know what I mean?"
You've got the spark back then? "Yeah, spark, these have lit it big time. So expect to be hearing plenty more from me. Vanishing Point was great - all bases covered really - a good stoned out LP for the end of the night and a few groovy tunes on it. Yeah, smart, expect more the same only more twisted and paranoid."
When the Roses split after Reading in the summer of '96, didn't you join the Scream halfway through the Vanishing Point sessions?
"Really, halfway through the last Scream tour of Britain it was like at Brighton Conference Centre and I'd had a whiff that John Squire was up to something. When we were recording The Second Coming LP we were in this residential gaff and I'd go across the corridor to his room you know 'cause I'd hear a tune coming out. I'd think 'Oh that's a new one. I've not heard it before' and as I'd knock on his door the fuckin' tape would go off. That was half of The Seahorses LP he's fuckin' preparing there so I knew he was planning sommut. So I kidnapped Bobby Gillespie after the Brighton Conference Centre gig and just sort of said to him 'How about it?' so in a way we did the deal six months before I actually left. I was pretty happy. I knew I was probably gonna be heading there, you know what I mean? I'm fucking glad I did. I'd only be in trouble with the police or sommut now (giggles)."
Who influenced your bass style? "I used to be bang into Peter Hook from Joy Division and New Order an' all that and I liked Andy Rourke from The Smiths a lot but it's all them unknown fuckers on old soul records who you'll never know the names of."
People like James Jamerson from Motown? "Exactly, all the in-house Motown guys and all that who really knew how to get the floor pumping man."
Were Funkadelic an influence? "Oh yeah totally but that came a little later, I was into the more authentic soul first and then got into the Funk and the rare grooves and what have you. It's all the faceless black guys from the factory."
In a sense it's good they're getting recognition through you. "That's good yeah. If you can name check them yeah. That was one of the things with the Roses - if we could name check bands and turn people onto their music and educate them somewhat then that's a good thing. It just perpetuates itself then. You can never let the music die. No one can allow Northern and Motown to die. It's better than The Beatles an' all that you know what I mean? Manchester and the North was always a stronghold for soul, all nighters and what have you - it's still goin' on though. Every now and again there's a new bunch of kids who'll grow up and look at how fuckin' cool scooters are and how cool the music is and go 'I'll fuckin' have it', buy some sharp threads and have a nice haircut. Then you're off aren't you? You're a Mod."
Of course it's all important - music goes hand in hand with the machines.
"Yeah, yeah. It needs bands and it needs music like Secret Affair, The Chords and The Purple Hearts to give it a kick up. More Modish bands. There's always people who'll pick up the torch and carry on. It's time for kids to start playing in bands again. Go and learn from your past, go and learn from Steve Marriot and Motown and start your own thing off. Two reference points that can never be beaten."
Have you spoken to Ian Brown recently? "Last time I seen Ian was about this time last year at the Fuji Rock Festival in Japan, he was on before us and we had a little bit of a falling out over something and nothing but we're mates, you know what I mean? He's been a busy boy, I've been a busy boy - when we meet up with each other it'll be business as usual - I want him to get another scooter so we can get the old gang back together!"
He won't be having his hair pink or owt? "No, no, not this time."
It'd be nice to see you lot on a few runs. "Oh aye, we'll try to get the Allstars - Cradock and Weller and that lot -get the Allstars to come together. It will happen, I'm sure it will and then all do a gig somewhere on the night."
That would fuckin' re-ignite it.
"Totally, because Liam and Noel Gallagher are scooterists. Liam's got plenty of scooters and all that. When he's bored he goes round to the shop in Camden and buys another Lambretta! Yeah he's got a nice series 2 Li, it's got the headlamp down the horncasting one of them where you turn the corner in the dark. I tell you, he loves his scooters. He's still got one in the garden round at his mam's near where I live."
Recognisable faces on scooters. "Get more people importing and doing them up, get the prices down. It's three and a half grand for a done up Lambretta, long gone are the days when a T1 in an old bloke's garage would go for thirty quid."
You'll have to dig up your garden.
"I know where there's at least five of my old ones dumped - I'm not that much of a mechanic and I'd get 'em for nowt when they'd finished I'd boot 'em down the hill an' get another one. I had a Vespa Sportique, a P registration one a 1961/2 or something. Fucking great. It hadn't run for ages and I just fuckin' whipped the plug out, banged a new one in, got some petrol and oil mix in there, fuckin' kicked up first time, it hadn't run in ten years - big, bubbly panels and all that - riding round on that it snapped in half when I was going up the road! I had it in two halves outside my mam's house but I couldn't find a frame for it man."
Do you think the scooter ethic stood you in good stead as a band? "That's exactly right. It's good gang mentality, plus it has you lookin' smart. There's something about being on a scooter that makes you wanna look smart. It goes hand in hand. It got us all on the one tip on the music. Scootering's responsible for a lot in my life - don't mind admitting it - fucking love it."
Was Reni ever interested in scooters? "Too fuckin' dangerous to go on a scooter him! If you'd ever been in a car with him you'd know what I was on about! Fuckin' lively bastard him."
What's he up to at the moment? "I think he's ready to record with his new band, playing guitar and singing. That'll be interesting because he's a fuckin' shit hot guitar player. Yeah he's no slouch - a talented boy, I see him more than I see the rest of 'em and he's always on the phone 'an all that. What can you say?"
What's on the cards for Primal Scream? "Hopefully we'll get out and do some gigs. I'm itching to play again, I've been Djing all over and I'm bored of that now. Hopefully the LP might be out next year and well get out and tour it proper. We might do a couple of low key little uns somewhere, just to try the new gear out and to see if we can still remember the old shit. I'm itching to get busy! I'm looking around now, seeing Gay Dad and all this, what the fuck's going on? Those people are fuckin' usurping what we've built up."
Manufactured shit? "There's too much snide about and it's time for a whiff of reality I'm afraid. Put them back on the dole and send them back to their mummies nice little houses in Hemel Hampstead or wherever they come from, you know what I mean?"
At the moment all the bands with any balls seem to be recording or dormant.
"Ocean Colour Scene should be coming back soon enough."
And there's yourselves and Ian Brown.
"Oasis' album should be out January or February. You're in for a treat with them they're changing a bit - more garagey - oh yeah it'll be fuckin' smart will that."
Is the next album in a similar vein to Vanishing Point because Echo Dek was more dub?
"Yeah Adrian Sherwood got to work on that (Echo Dek) because we're all big reggae fans, even from the days of fuckin' rudeboy Trojan gear an' all that man. Being a punk taught me a lot about music because we used to go to the Russell Club to watch gigs and the people who were there would be Punks or Rastas like outcasts. It's funny how Punks n' Rastas always fuckin' got on with each other and we learnt about reggae from them and that follows through to your tunes. The next LP has more of a twist on it than Vanishing Point. I always find it fuckin' hard to describe my own tunes. It's dark but it's got more extreme light in there as well. It's weird. You'll have to let your ears listen to it and work it out for yourself. We've done a great song with Weller - it's the first time he's picked up a Rickenbacker since The Jam, so he says anyway. It sounds like a cross between 'I Can't Explain' and 'Fast City Rockers' (sings chord progression) a proper Mod song with a John Entwhistle bass solo from me (laughter) it sounds right that, you'll like it."
My Generation? "Proper. I tell you."
Have you had any involvement in The Jam tribute album?
"Weller's good mates with the Scream so we'll probably cover something. I was such a fuckin' big fan of The Jam when I was a kid, it's good to have Weller as a mate now and all that. It's weird it's like 'fuckin' hell it's Paul Weller man'. I used to idolise this cunt years ago. Strange. Aziz (Ibrahim) who plays guitar in Ian Brown's band he's doing a solo thing and Weller's been working with him. They got me down the other week and Steve White on the drums and we bashed a couple out and we've got a couple more to do. That'll be interesting. I wouldn't mind working with Weller himself on some of his gear. I think he's got a couple lined up for me as well, we live in hope. That'll be an achievement for me - I've always wanted to work with him."
With Aziz going solo do you think he'll still work on Ian's stuff?
"Yeah he is. Aziz has always had his own solo deal apart from Ian's stuff. Yeah pretty strange gear - loads of Indian-ish sitary tabla based stuff. He's got me and Andy Rourke involved. I'm just trying to do as much as I can now 'cause I need the fuckin' cash."
Any news on John Squire? "Apparently John's got this thing coming together called Skunkworks or something. I feel sorry for the guys from The Seahorses because they've been picked up, used and dropped just like he did with us an' we were his mates man. Motherfucker. I could put my hand on my heart and say to John if he'd split up, for me the best band on the fuckin' planet, and gone on and done something that beat it, I could have held my hands up and said 'Right now I know what you're getting at.' Don't get me wrong, it did crumble, it crumbled from the moment Reni left, but I feel fuckin' cheated I do. Everything gets a bit messy sometimes and people fall out but you've got to ride through it. Look at The Who - Townshend and Daltrey fuckin' hated each others guts but they kept it together for the sake of the whole. I don't know, I keep getting asked about the reform of the Roses thing an' all that."
I think it'll happen.
"It might happen but I'd only be doin' it on licence from the Scream cause they're my boys now."
Exactly, they're first call.
"They're first call. Exactly, but I would do it for a few dates I think. I don't know, a big fuckin' charity gig and a good day out somewhere at Wembley Stadium or sommut and get everyone out."
To let the youngsters know?
"Yeah, this is how it's gone because there's too much limp-wristed shit about at the minute and I can't listen to it so I'm forever going backwards in my music collection, you know what I mean?"
In a sense that's sad, you can appreciate the past but it's got to evolve like it did with you guys.
"I'll tell you who I've been listening to - The Beta Band - one of the only half decent things that I've heard lately. I'd have a listen, it's wacky as fuck and on the vinyl sleeve notes they name-check scooter clubs. So I don't know whether they've got a whiff of scooterism about them. That'd be worth investigating. They name-check the Failte scooter club and sommut in Dundee and Edinburgh. A whiff of two stroke."
What do you think of the typical journo bullshit view about Second Coming at the time of release? (The media reaction was one of disappointment and the album was generally labelled an under achievement.)
"I think it's an excellent LP but they were too quick to judge it because they wanted the nice, lovable, mop-top Herman's Hermits first LP again. They were never gonna get that, we'd got hair on our balls an' we knew how to play. Powerful man. But six months after and it's all fuckin' over and it's finished and they're saying 'Yeah, well we get the point'. They really tried to crucify us you know."
Do you think a lot of that had to do with The Big Issue interview? (The band gave an exclusive interview to The Big Issue at the time of the LP's release and shunned the major music press resulting in a backlash from the media.)
"Yeah, how conglomerate based is that? We tried to do something for homeless people and it got people off the streets and got these houses done up for them an' all that and then they (the music press) started getting their fuckin' guns out."
Do you feel fame has changed you over the years?
"There's no place for that. I'm still as real now as I was in '79 any of my mates will tell you that. You can't get a fuckin' big head round here, otherwise you get slapped down quick, you know what I mean? It keeps your feet on the ground, I don't like being in the clouds anyway, it's better on the ground. It's only a fuckin' job anyway playing the guitar."
What a job though.
"Oh, I love it. I always knew what I was gonna do. From eight years old my cousin Martin, who was also a scooterist incidently, was in a band in the early '70s and I can remember me and my little cousins sneakin' in and watching 'em. I thought 'That's for me that'. I always knew. I used to play in pub bands with Clint Boon before the Roses. I must have played in about six different ones. We didn't mind being on the dole because we always knew we'd get to where we wanted to be at some point. It was just a matter of finding the right people.
When was the actual point when you realised you were gonna make it?
"I'd been doing my own thing until '87 and it was a real chance thing. I was working in a theatre, I was like a stage hand at the Opera House in Manchester just down the road. It was one dinner time and I just bumped into John - it was the first time I'd seen him for about six months. It was destiny, it was meant to happen. I'm a firm believer in kismet and fate and all that. I'm a prime example. I could have been in and out of nick like half of my mates from fuckin' drug dealing or armed robbery an' all that. I always knew what I wanted to do and just kept on that path. It's not that difficult, I'm a firm believer in positive thinking. As long as you do it at your own pace at your own terms you can achieve anything. Smart. I need more scooters man, that's my means to an end now innit? I've got an alright house and a nice bird - now I want scooters and I need to expand my record collection as well. That's what I'm earning money for now - scooters and records."
Were you Djing in London recently? "I did sommut a couple of weeks ago, I was just playing loads of fuckin' old Northern, early '70s funk and anything with a bassline."
And you were Djing for the Stone Roses tribute band? "I did a few with 'em. I got a bit nosey, I heard about them and wondered what they were like. They can fuckin' play man. They're from Scotland."
At this point Mani excited declares 'MC Tunes is in the house man' and he most certainly was. The interview breaks to allow two legends of the Manchester music scene to catch up.
It'd be nice to see you on a run.
"Yeah I need to get on a run again. I'd love to, we'll try and get the Allstars together you know what I mean? That'd be boss man. Nothing can beat it, I can just remember setting off in crews of sixty or seventy and like goin' to Great Yarmouth which is a bit of a fuckin' icon for Lambretta and you've always got a couple of Vespa fuckin' 50s with you. You can't just peel off can you? Fighting with smellies just outside Scarborough an all that, booting bikers off. We had a right to do with a load of bikers. I remember one guy from a Scouse firm, they had number 7's on their helmets, he pulled a fuckin' full whip out and he's gone (gesticulates slashing) and he's cracked it and all the scooters have cleared all over the place."
What are you riding at the moment? "That's the first Lambretta I've had that's been a guaranteed first time starter in the morning. I had a Jet 200. It was a Servetta one, a Spanish one. It would never start. Even bumpin' it would take about about twenty minutes until you'd stop, boot it in both panels, give it a kiss on the head stock and it'd start man. Weird innit?"
Conversation drifted to the dukebox and the location. Over to Mani.
"Yeah it's the old Dry Bar innit? Factory used to own it, the Hacienda and all that but it's changed hands. We all used to hang about in here - bad boy corner over there where all the fuckin' headcases would be."
How long have you been based in Stockport? "I just got myself some distance 'cause everyone was getting smacked up in North Manchester and dying so I thought 'Turn left here' and peeled off. I couldn't sit by and watch it anymore. I still see scooterists in Stockport, that Johnny Boland from the Crusaders been about for years. I fancy turning up at a scooter club meeting one night 'cause they'll all go 'Fuckin' hell no way, not you'. Everytime my bunch from North Manchester used to come down they'd be like 'Fuckin hell keep your hands on your wallets, the thieving cunts are here again'. That's the kind of reputation my lot had innit? I've had some fuckin' killer times on scooter runs - the riot in Keswick petrol bombing the police and we (Mr Gary Mounfield, Heaton Chapel, Stockport - please call after 5pm to make sure he's risen from the power-nap!) burned down a big fuckin' warehouse in Colwyn Bay one year because it was freezin', pissin' down with rain! The fire we started got out of hand and got to the warehouse, the fire brigade were all over!"
Ooh toasty.
"Oh yeah, no need for a jacket then."
Did the scooter club have a name or were you just a loose collection of friends?
"The Bogeymen. Another pair I remember. I don't remember where the fuck they were from, but we used to call them the Shiteaters. It was Morecambe in about 1981 and all sorts of shenanigans were going on - we'd gone in the wax museum and my mate nicked ET and we put cigs in the fuckin' Pope's mouth an' nicked a big wax skeleton all that an' took photos. We got pinched and had to go to court for nicking fuckin' wax models!"
Do you still have the photos? "Ian Brown's probably got 'em - he's got a right shitload of old scooter gear. I should get in touch with him you know. Get a portfolio of hear together, that'd be boss man, the old days. You'll see me with a fuckin' big flick and one of them big World War Two flying jackets on! Pilot jackets man. I'll dig some shit out. I went through a ten-year period of not having scooters but I always thought about them. Everytime I'd see 'em I'd be like 'Bastard, I fucking want one'. Once you've owned one it's always in your blood for some daft reason innit? Like all the old originals like Ginger and all them from Bolton, the Spartans and all that - they're all still at it man. The Easter Egg Run. Top. Yeah, I've seen some strange machines in my time on runs, I love it me. Lowriders, cutdowns and Little Rats. I'll always have a Lambie lurking around. I was gutted with my last one. I had an '82 - it was the fastest fuckin' scooter in North Manchester. RD 250 motorbikes couldn't catch me at one point, you know from a stop start. Five plate racing clutch, racing pistons, skin portered and polished, TV 175 gears, Every bit of money I used to get I spent on it. Big clubber exhaust, double twin reverse cone and all that."
Was the theatre paying for that? "No that was when I was on the dole. Any bit of fucking money - straight in. I used to buy my brother, our Greg, I'd get him a Fresco exhaust and a 34 ml Del Auto carb for his birthday! He used to pinch my scooter, the little cunt, when I'd go to work! He used to fuck around with the carb so I couldn't start it in the morning and then I used to go and get the bus to work. And then I'd be getting a lift off my mam or the bus home from work and I'd see him and his mate whizzing past on it!"
How many scooters would you say you'd had all together?
"To total up, fuckin' loads of em. I'd just get em and when they broke down I'd bin 'em. Let me have a think, I've probably had nine or ten. I should have them all still, gleaming but…"
..You have, they're in your garden! Dig up those bones man!
"Just down the fuckin' backies man. I'm not gonna reveal where they are 'cause I just might go an' get the gripper on them and see if they're salvageable. Yeah they'll all be Innocenti as well, all the Lambrettas will be old. Mainly Li 150's, one TV 175, a GP 200 and a Jet 200 definitely. A Vespa Sportique, an' I tell you what I did get, I found it in a garage, was it a Triumph T0 or a Triumph T10? But I couldn't find the parts for it, it had a really weird looking shape. Liam's got an NSU Premium - you know the big fuckers? He's got all that kind of shit, he does collect 'em now. I'd like to have a nice flashy one, a standard one and a good chopper - I want it all really don't I?"
'Proper' and 'innit' will always be potent reminders of a day eventually smoked out of focus but the most enduring image of any one moment was that having never met Mani it was transparently obvious that he couldn't have changed. Ever.

March 2000 - Four Four Two Magazine Mani Interview by Matt Allen
A QUIET WORD WITH MANI. From Primal Scream, the most lawless band on the planet, comes a Mancunian who loves United, not City. Story: Matt Allen
“Martin Edwards is a fucking tit,” laughs Mani, sitting back and taking another sip from his pint. “That geezer would slap Kipling Cakes all over the United shirt if he thought it would make him some more money. He just hasn’t got the club’s best interest at heart, especially when he starts slagging off Fergie in the newspapers.” The Primal Scream bassist – originally a member of The Stone Roses – feels he has good reason to be upset with the United chairman. Over 30 years of supporting the Old Trafford side, he has seen his club change from a working man’s team into a corporate money-making machine. And he’s very angry. “We could have had Batistuta, Salas and fucking Rivaldo at the club, but he was too tight,” says Mani. “He’s been lucky because he’s managed to cash his chips in at the club and make loads of money for himself, but he was gutted when Murdoch didn’t take over. Fan power and people power and the independent supported really got up his nose because we didn’t want him in. That’s great, because nobody asked the people – whose game it is – if they minded having their game nicked off them and given to the businessmen. The people turned round to Edwards and told him we wanted our game back and he didn’t like it. “We’ll see how big they are if people become really unhappy and stay away in droves and the club has empty stands. If United fans were to vote with their feet and didn’t put their money through the turnstiles, it would really hurt the club. Football fans are notoriously fickle like that. I would love it if I could stand outside the ground and go, ‘Nobody go in, they’re being c**ts, let’s leave ‘em with an empty stadium.” It’s our game, man. It’s our fucking heritage. It’s the working man’s game and we want it back.”
Mani has supported United since he was four (when he was still called Gary Mounfield), going to his first match (a reserve fixture against Ipswich) with his dad. By the time he was eight he was hooked, taking his younger brother on the number seven bus that ran from outside his house to Old Trafford. “I think my love of United was preordained before I was even born because the club is in the family,” he says. “My Auntie Pat is Pat Stiles so there’s a sort of tenuous link with Nobby there. All my family are United. They’re all Irish immigrants living in North Manchester, which is pretty much the hotbed of Man U, so I don’t think I could have been anything else.”
Unlike certain other celebrity United fans, Mani’s early years with the Old Trafford club coincided with one of their darkest spells, as the side struggled during the early Seventies. Meanwhile, across town, neighbours City went from strength to strength.
“I’ve never been tempted by City. I couldn’t have been anything else but United. I used to put up with watching Liverpool win everything and seeing players like Alan Brazil turn out for us, which were pretty dark days. But I used to go all the time because there was nothing better to do. Me and my brother would get on the Manc special train, head up to West Brom or Ipswich and watch a pretty mediocre United team. “I’m not a glory hunter or a part-time fan,” he continues. “I saw United go down and everything. That for me was my lowest point, because City put us in the Second Division with Denis Law’s backheel. That just made it doubly snide. But I think we might get the same scenario again because after the Denis Law/Charlton era everything took a nosedive and I think the same thing could happen again, especially if Edwards doesn’t sort it out.”
FourFourTwo is enjoying a few beers with Mani after sitting in on a Primal Scream rehearsal at the Depot Studios in north London. The Scream’s new album Exterminator is due out this month, and the band are currently preparing for a world tour. But gigs, groupies and enough alcohol and drugs to lay out a herd of elephants are the last thing on Mani’s mind at the moment.
“I think we’ve got a great side,” he says, lighting a cigarette (he chainsmokes throughout the interview). “But it could be better and that’s down to the Edwards thing. We’ve got Bosnich but we should have got Van der Saar. He’s a quality player, but Edwards missed the boat because he wanted to get him on the cheap. Then we got Taibi in. I mean, he’s had a couple of howlers but I don’t think he’s as bad as everyone makes out. I mean, he had to replace Peter Schmeichel who was a fucking legend. But saying that, he let that absolute howler through his legs, didn’t he [against Southampton in the autumn]? He was saying it was down to wearing the wrong studs. But if you’re getting paid 15 grand a week, you should know what studs to put on. He better not do it again. “But we’ve had a few dodgy keepers in the past, Paddy Roache: do you remember him? And what about Jim Leighton? He couldn’t see through all that Vaseline over his eyes. He used to wear contact lenses purely through his own vanity ‘cos he didn’t want to wear glasses, but apparently he never told Fergie, so Fergie thought he had perfect vision. During one game he lost his lenses and had a fucking howler. He told the manager it was down to losing his lenses and he got the full Fergie hairdryer.”
Like most celebrity fans, Mani admits to experiencing a strange feeling of awe when meeting his United heroes, yet being part of one of British pop music’s most influential bands and then joining critics’ favourites Primal Scream meant Mani has enjoyed the company of some unexpected guests backstage.
“Brian McClair was the boy,” he says, laughing. “When we was at United we got him backstage at a Stone Roses gig ‘cos he was a massive Mary Chain, My Bloody Valentine and Roses fan. We were backstage having loads of charlie and he was just looking at us in disbelief saying, ‘You boys are unbelievable’. He couldn’t believe it. But he could come on the road with us as far as I’m concerned. He’s a top geezer. “When the Roses were playing in Manchester, I remember looking up into the seats and Bonehead and Liam and Noel were there and that, but Brian was there with Peter Schmeichel. It goes to show that not all footballers are into George Benson. But I think footballers respect musicians and vice versa.”
Does it bother him that the athletes representing his club week-in, week-out might be prone to go on the odd lawless session during the season? He laughs. “No, man. Nicky Butt always boozes round my way and he always lets on to me. He’ll say, ‘Alright Mani, how’s it hanging, lad?’ I’ve seen Giggsy in some right states as well. After the Oasis gig at Maine Road him and Lee Sharpe were rolling around in a right mess, man. It was a right laugh. It’s great meeting people like that who you respect. I used to get a bit nervous when I used to see ‘em, but I’ve got used to it. I always see ‘em knocking around. “But they’re younger than me, getting all that money and they behave themselves? That must be impossible. If I was getting what they earn a week I’d be off my fucking trolley completely. I think they do well to stay in. I know if I had to had a drugs test every other week my blood would be glowing green. But if you play well then I reckon they deserve the money. I mean one bad tackle and your career is over. Look at that poor bastard David Busst. His career is over. It’s only a finite time you’ve got in the game, so maximise it, but don’t be greedy.”
Is Roy Keane greedy? “You’ve got to pay Roy Keane £50,000 a week,” he says. “He’s a fucking inspiration, man. The wage structure had to be smashed at Old Trafford to allow the best players in the world to sign for us. The biggest players in the world aren’t going to come to rainy old Manchester for £30,000 a week, so I don’t begrudge players like Keane getting that money. It’s the same with Beckham. He’s a supernova bright bastard when it comes to playing football and he provides a lot of entertainment for a lot of people.” He pauses as if something has suddenly struck him. “You know, football is rather like music,” he says. “There are only so many people who are really good at it and they’re worth every penny they get. And when it all comes together, whether it’s on the pitch or on a record it makes it all worth it”. He smiles. “It’s fucking beautiful when that happens.”

01 November 2003 Saturday 01.12 GMT - The Observer, Guardian, Ben Marshall Interview: Call of the wild. Primal Scream, no strangers to excess, never really seemed built to last. But nearly two decades on, Ben Marshall catches up with the band in Benidorm. Before I left for Benidorm to watch Primal Scream support the Rolling Stones I was told that Primal Scream had calmed down. Bobby Gillespie, their singer, and Duff, their keyboardist, are now both fathers. The band themselves are getting older. "They've matured," their PR told me, somewhat ominously. Well they have a greatest hits album out, Dirty Hits, which is normally a sign of a band that have moved on. And there is a single with Kate Moss, a cover of Lee Hazlewood's Some Velvet Morning, which is proof they have been working. Those long silences between albums, often four years, were as much a consequence of bodily abuse as they were of simple creative laziness. I normally don't particularly like the idea of rock'n'roll bands maturing but in the case of the Primals this came as something of a relief. For nearly two decades the band have taken hedonism to new, often dangerous highs. Crisscrossing Europe and America in the immediate aftermath of their seminal 1991 album Screamadelica they consumed head-splitting amounts of drugs. They drank themselves into oblivion. They were banned from Top Of The Pops (the ban has only recently been lifted) and they beat up on the opposition with all the glee and freebooting cruelty of barbarian invaders. Alan McGee, the owner and founder of their then label Creation Records, was actually so worried about them he sent them all the way to Memphis to record Screamadelica's follow-up, Give Out But Don't Give Up. The theory was that away from the coterie of freakouts, fuck-ups and fall-outs the Primals called friends they could get on with the business of recording rock'n'roll as opposed to just being rock'n'roll. So much for theories.
"We arrived in Memphis and the first person we met sold us crack. Literally the first person. We only wanted to know where the cab rank was," recalls Bobby. By the following day Bobby was lying in a hot bath trying to sweat out the poison.
The rest of the band had decided, against all better advice, to go to Graceland, a pilgrimage that ended in disaster. "Andrew Innes (one of the Primals guitarists) stood in the queue behind all these fat Americans. He wasn't feeling too good. I mean the guy had been up all night freebasing. He got to the front door and puked all over it..." He puked all over Graceland? "Yep," replies Bobby. "And he made things worse..." Is that possible? "Well, as security were dragging him away he shouted, 'First man to do that since the King!'" The Graceland incident, surely the Primals' own equivalent to Ozzy Osbourne pissing on the Alamo, was just one of many. In the same period they "used" Blur's Damon Albarn as a volleyball net, bouncing a ball off his head as revenge for some forgotten crime. They mixed the jaw-grinding highs of speed with heroin's soporific torpor. On the road they were a magnificent, giddying rock'n'roll circus, their bus and backstage area always full of friends, fans and rat-faced hangers-on. Between then and now they were joined by Mani, the Stone Roses' brilliant but deranged bassist.
I remember meeting them in the late 1990s. They were in the company of sometime collaborators Irvine Welsh and Adrian Sherwood. They had taken over the top room of an Islington pub. The coke-fuelled conversation covered everything from Irish politics to the parlous state of British pop. Given the drugs, given the atmosphere, given the drink, they should have looked like shit. But they looked great. I wondered then as I had wondered before how they could survive all this when similar antics had almost killed their friends the Happy Mondays.

Now though, apparently, they have calmed down. We meet at Heathrow airport, just after 9am. Duff is buying a pint of Fosters. He says that he's gone off the really strong lager. "The alcoholic equivalent of moving from smack to coke," says Bobby with a snigger. Duff had spent the preceding halfhour trying to buy the new novel by JG Ballard. "No joy," he informs us with a shrug. "It's cos the novel begins with some people blowing up Heathrow airport," says Andrew Innes with uncharacteristic sensitivity. "It's only fucking fiction," says Duff. Perhaps it's the beer or their gang-tight cohesion but the Primals seem entirely unfazed by the demands of the day. Supporting the Rolling Stones, the world's biggest and longest lasting rock'n'roll band, would unnerve most people. "Why be daunted?" demands Bobby with a rhetorical wave of the hands. "They're a great rock'n'roll band. We're a great rock'n'roll band."
It's surely this resolve and impenetrable self-confidence that has kept the Primals so vibrant for so long. After the extraordinary and timeless fusion of dance and rock that was Screamadelica, the Primals went on to record Give Out But Don't Give Up, an album that was so basic and downhome it left critics not just confused but positively angry. "I never understood why we owed it to anyone, least of all ourselves, to record a repeat of that record. We had to go with our instincts and our instincts told us to go for something far more basic." Ironically it has taken almost 10 years for people to wake up to how good those once critically despised songs are. On stage in front of 30,000 dope-smoking Spaniards, the sheer urgency, aggression and bluesy simplicity of songs like Rocks and Jailbird pack a savage punch. Oddly it is also easier to see the logical trajectory of the Primals' career when these songs are parenthesised by the older (Higher Than The Sun) and the newer (Swastika Eyes).
"You're right," says a saucer-eyed Innes. "Now all we gotta do is ditch all that arty shite." Innes has clearly been taking something. No one is quite sure what. Dexedrine maybe, or crystal meth. Certainly some form of speed. When we arrived backstage he was approached by a huge glassy-eyed honey-monster of a roadie barely capable of speech. "I'll be joining you shortly," said Innes with a satanic cackle. Well join him he did. So I suspect did the rest of the band, if Mani's meeting with Mick Jagger was anything to go by. Mick was very graciously doing his meet'n'greet rock'n'roll royalty bit. He shook hands, patted backs and complimented the Primals on a "great fucking show". Mani, who on stage had thanked the Stones before adding that they had much to learn from the Primals, shook Mick's hand and then began doing a weird Bo Selecta imitation of the great man. Mick looked utterly bewildered, Mani adding, to Mick's exponential bafflement, "You make me want to do a sex wee." "That's Mani," says Bobby. "He says what he thinks."
And this is surely what applies to the Primals as individuals and as a band. While most British rock'n'roll seems to have cleaned up its act to the point of stainless, antiseptic tedium, the Primals have simply carried on being the Primals. In this present climate Dirty Hits is a perfect title for their greatest hits. It is also one of the few rock'n'roll records released this year that rates as an essential purchase. Like many of the songs by the Rolling Stones, the Primals at their best offer the opportunity to pinpoint certain pieces of your life."Have we calmed down?" Bobby ponders this. "Yeah, I think we have. Fatherhood does a bit of that to you. But being on the road, that's different. That takes you to a very strange place." Watching the tour manager trying to get them on the bus I see exactly what Bobby means. It's like someone herding cats. "We're not fucking Will Young," declares Innes. And he's right. They are not fucking Will Young.

07 November 2003 01:00 Friday - The Independent (independent.co.uk)by Steve Jelbert: Primal Scream: Onward and upward. Primal Scream's recording career now spans a generation. Bobby Gillespie tells Steve Jelbert why, after 18 years of excess, the music is still what matters most. "It would have been nicer to sell some more records, but then I'm happy so I don't really care," says Bobby Gillespie, his voice hardly brimming over with joy. In the end, it seems, all rockers become grumpy old men. It is no coincidence that the recent BBC2 series of that name included plenty of old punks mumbling about how things used to be better and counted for more.
But I have no intention of baiting the man, even if his mumble proves indistinct at times. Some 18 years since Primal Scream's first stumbling steps on record, he still manages to make great music, and let's face it, looks better in a leather jacket than Rod Liddle ever has or will. Still fighting the eternal Manichaean struggle between rock'n'roll and boredom (and he really does use the expression "I'm bored", never normally spoken by men over the age of 40, when explaining that he no longer wants to discuss politics or why the Scream's North London studio might soon relocate to a livelier neighbourhood), the release of Dirty Hits, a compilation celebrating a fruitful and imaginative career, is worth discussing.
The Scream have been around so long that an entire generation has grown up wondering what they are going to do next. The Stone Roses started off as eager camp followers (check out the melodic resemblance between the Scream's "Velocity Girl" in 1985 and Ian Brown and co's 1989 breakthrough single, "Made of Stone"), yet these days their bassist, the mercurial, benignly mad Mani, plays with Primal Scream. Kevin Shields disappeared after My Bloody Valentine signed a huge deal in the early Nineties, yet eventually re-emerged years later playing guitar on stage with the Scream. Before moving to London and founding the Heavenly label, Jeff Barrett ran a record store in Plymouth and painted the sign to read "Bobby Gillespie" in honour of an early Scream show in the city (thus confusing the man himself and local shoppers for years afterward).
Legendary before they'd even achieved anything beyond the mildest fame, no other band has so successfully invented themselves as Rock Monsters, then, incredibly, managed to live up to it. Their last record featured cameos from both Robert Plant and Kate Moss, surely a unique distinction.
Did Gillespie ever imagine they would last so long?
"I never thought that far ahead really. While it was happening, I just tried to enjoy it," he says now. Wasn't it a stroke of luck that no other band had used the name before, when even Tears for Fears took their name from Arthur Janov, inventor of primal-scream therapy? "Yeah, it's amazing, isn't it," he laughs. "In 1981, I thought to myself: if I ever form a band, I'm calling it Primal Scream."
But the story as told on Dirty Hits begins with 1990's "Loaded", Andy Weatherall's hugely influential and artfully minimal remix of the ballad "I'm Losing More Than I Ever Had". "When we heard the final mix we were blown away - it was just so exciting. When they started playing it in the clubs we got reports back that people were going nuts. Alan McGee said: 'We might have a hit record,'" Gillespie recalls. (The "rock Svengali" McGee has said this way more often over the years than he has actually had hit records, however. It is both his strength and failing.)
"At that point we thought there wasn't much of a future for the band. We'd play in London and there'd be 80 people there. No one from the record company would even come and see us. Then we had a hit, we were on a wage and we bought a sampler and a studio, and that's where we started writing and recording Screamadelica. "I think it was just meant to happen. We just passed Weatherall in the street. It was the second time he'd ever been in a studio - the first was with Paul Oakenfold on a Happy Mondays record." Were you surprised to find yourself adopted by the dance scene? "I was too smashed to notice anything," Gillespie replies. "I just remember going to clubs and people being very nice to us."
Although this journo has never met Gillespie before, I'm actually one of the anonymous dancers in the video for "Loaded", filmed in its director's flat above a takeaway in Stoke Newington, north London (honestly). As their label, Creation, hadn't actually come up with a copy of the song for us extras (in fact, the director's mates) to jig around to, we were actually swaying to that very Happy Mondays mix. That is the sort of weird coincidence that gives the Scream their lasting resonance.
They are a band of fans, too. It is almost a standing gag amongst hacks that Gillespie will invoke Sly Stone at some point during the conversation (and he does too, quite relevantly in the circumstances), while his analysis of the Stones' Sticky Fingers, describing each track's inspirations while praising its essential, er, Stonesiness, is spot on. He would have made a great critic if he had any other words than "amazing" to describe the music he loves. But then, what would we hacks have to write about if there weren't tunes like "Movin' On Up"? "It's a perfect record," laughs Gillespie, "We recorded it in parts and Jimmy Miller [the late Stones producer] sorted it out. When we heard that I thought 'Wow! This is a real record. It's as good as the Rolling Stones or something.' Nobody knew it, so it was a great track to start Screamadelica with. An instant classic, I think."
He is right. Audiences still adore it, and it even appears on the soundtrack of Grand Theft Parsons, the entertaining comedy based on the sombre subject of Gram Parsons' immolation in the Californian desert, a Dude, Where's My Corpse? that could only have been written by a Brit. That's the Gram Parsons who, by dint of bringing his own stash, hung out with Jagger and Richards in their most debauched period. You see what I mean about coincidence.
Primal Scream have become notorious for their positively toxic habits over the years. One interview was famously interrupted when Gillespie paused to puke, though he did not lose his train of thought, while the microwave on the tour bus was used for cooking, but not food, shall we say. Though they might not get past the drug testers from Fifa, Gillespie at least is more circumspect these days. "I get offered drugs and stuff all over the world, and I don't know what to say any more. Everybody was on drugs," he says. "Noel Gallagher was right [with his famous comment that narcotics were as commonplace as a cup of tea]. It's actually so prevalent in the culture of Britain now I don't think it's a good thing. Maybe that tells you something. Other peoples' standard of living is so much higher now, they feel they have something to offer. Here there's fuck all, so people get obliterated on drugs."
As the son of a senior trade union official, Gillespie retains a certain social conscience. The XTRMNTR album in 2001 (cue gags about the Scream dropping the Es, ho ho), if not explicitly political, proved at least more engaged than their peers. Also it was very loud and refreshingly harsh.
"I just wanted to write about the culture, and make a record which felt like living in London or any big city. The paranoia, the claustrophobia and the concrete, the threat of violence, just the grimness of living in Britain, because I think it is a grim country. There's a sense of dread there. I guess it's construed as being political," he explains. "Much the same way as Metal Box by Public Image Limited still captures the end of the Seventies. Thatcher's coming in and you know it's going to be heavy. It's damp, wet - that's what that music feels like."
Strangely, a friend subsequently comments that the last time he saw Primal Scream in the North of England, plenty of scary, shaven-headed types seemed to take the pointed "Swastika Eyes" as an excuse for celebration rather than the denunciation it is intended as.
Later and largely inaccurate reports that they had written a song, pre-September 11, called "Bomb the Pentagon" (which appeared as "Rise" on last year's Evil Heat) confused the ever-more cosy music press.
"I was explaining [to an interviewer] about cultural imperialism and this kid just said, 'But America are our allies,'" Gillespie recalls, dumbfounded. "I realised there was no point talking politics to the music press because I just don't think they understand it, or perhaps they've got sympathies in certain directions. One of the questions was 'Do you recognise the state of Israel?' They don't ask Coldplay that. I think they're trying to send me up.
"I always think of rock'n'roll as countercultural, for outsiders, kind of left wing, but that's changed, even the press and youth attitudes. I just tend to talk about music now. Somebody told me they saw a clip of Blink 128 [he means nu-punkers Blink 182, of course] playing on an aircraft carrier full of American troops going to the Gulf. As much as I hate the Grateful Dead, there's no way they would ever have done that."
This reversal of the generation gap perhaps shows what we have lost. Primal Scream have never been shy about revealing their influences. "Rocks" ("Now a proven classic. People love it.") is a lighter, knowing tribute to the Stones' seedy "Rocks Off', while even on Screamadelica, "Don't Fight It Feel It" borrowed its "rama-lama-fa-fa-fa" hook from the MC5 ("I must admit I nicked that, but then, that's what they were doing themselves.").
"When I was a kid, I'd read interviews with The Clash or Patti Smith or whoever, where bands would talk about the music they liked and you'd maybe check it out, and that got me into a lot of music I'd never heard. So when I started doing interviews I'd talk about who I liked. It's kind of cool talking about stuff you're excited by. If the Pistols had come out and said they loved the New York Dolls everybody would have realised how much they were ripping them off. We signal it. It's good," he admits, happily, "I'll always be a fan. Music excites me."
He certainly doesn't seem bored of it yet. Live, Primal Scream are in better shape than ever. "In the last three years there's been a lot of great shows, because the band are so good," says Gillespie, conceding that the presence of Mani and Shields has given them the aura of a supergroup.
The most impressive thing about Dirty Hits is just how well it hangs together, despite its almost insanely eclectic styles, from balladry to grubby electronica. Were you surprised? "Kind of, but most of those songs were in our live set. We tried to sequence it in a couple of ways, but the chronological one works best," says Gillespie. "There's no irony in what we did. Other bands distanced themselves emotionally. I guess that's why the records are still good. Because we meant it."

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