What people still don’t get about C86–35 years later
This year it’s been 35 years since British magazine New Musical Express gave away the freebie tape C86 to its readers, as a round-up of what was going on in independent music in the country. Somehow that compilation (which was later released on vinyl due to its popularity) became emblematic of a white, middle-class community of musicians and their fans, who originally had little in common musically. It was often used, without justification, to signify a certain 60s-obsessed and naive sound that developed amongst independent pop groups over the next few years.
This year I have also just turned 35 and I wanted to share with you a large chuck of investigative journalism I undertook as an impressionable student of musicology, 15 years ago, at Lund University in Sweden. Under the pretence of writing an essay on the C86 tape, I interviewed a large number of musical heroes and entrepreneurs in the UK. Some of them, like The Wolfhounds, I got to interview in person. They were one of the bands playing a 20th anniversary gig labeled ’C86’ at the ICA in London.
At the time, the C86 term was still very much a debated subject, as eBay sellers had started using it as a tag to sell all manner of late 80s and early 90s vinyl records that were slowly becoming collectible. In fact, the memory of C86 still clung so vividly to many people’s minds that a former NME editor that I contacted over email, wrote back to me with a long list of profanities. Little did he know he was swearing at a 20 year old nerd who had only just been born at the time he helped put together the tracklisting for that tape.
The essay was once linked from the Wikipedia entry on C86 and a couple of people have asked me about it over the years. So I thought, why not put it out there again? After all, the intervening years have seen continued confusion about C86, especially after the 2006 double-cd compilation CD86: 48 Tracks From the Birth of Indie Pop — which again erroneously focused on sound and style without representing the actual DIY scene.
It took the NME until 2014 to endorse an actual reissue of the tape, which happened thanks to Cherry Red with the help of Neil Taylor who had also worked on the original version. Subsequently, that team went on the make the compilations C87, C88, C89 and C90. All of them well researched and sometimes including unreleased material. Another source of perhaps even greater relevance would be to take a look at BBC broadcaster John Peel’s ’Festive 50’ program for 1986 and the following years.
Here is the slightly edited version (for editorial purposes) of my original text. In essence it is the story of the birth of indie music in Britain and what later culminated in the Britpop phenomenon. It includes interviews with many notable musicians from the time (including Razorcuts, Talulah Gosh and The Pastels) as well as label heads of celebrated record labels like The Subway Organization and Sarah Records).
Everything Went Pop
What was C-86? What is it today? No one seems to really know, even those who use it as a term. I will try to uncover and evaluate its past and present meanings by 1) tracing some of the relevant trajectories in the history of pop music in particular, to get a grasp of its roots 2) taking a brief look at the political and social context 3) mapping out the pop scene (as comprised by bands, record labels and fanzines) in mid-eighties Great Britain and the correlations with C-86 4) examining where it went from there, its influence and its significance for pop history. This is an overview of the subject and is primarily supposed to provide facts rather than to theorise or pursue hypotheses.
Much of the meat comes from interviews conducted in 2005 with musicians, record label owners, journalists, fanzine writers and such. In total, thirteen interviews were made— mostly conducted via email, but a few person-to-person. The music is naturally central to this essay and I had tried to listen to as many of the bands that were unfamiliar to me as possible. Much of it is out of print, but in the last couple of years there has been an increasing amount of reissues and compilations (partly affecting which bands are remembered or considered important). After processing all this material I set out to evaluate the C-86 term and to make an accurate definition of it.
BACKGROUND — Musical predecessors
Pop music, by the definition used here, harks back to the electrically amplified guitar pop 60’s. Sometimes referred to by 80s fanzine writers as ‘POP!’ to separate it from ‘popular music’, it is the melody-based, guitar-driven music usually created by white males in bands with a drums-bass-guitar setting. What (sometimes) sets it apart from what’s in the charts is a serious aim to create something artful and meaningful. Most of it is also signified by a pop art aesthetic, a DIY mentality and preference for the gentle and fragile above the powerful and masculine (both sonically and ideologically). Pop is a celebration of the moment, the transient and the throwaway. Although bands in this essay were of course all individually influenced by different things, the common denominator is pop music as it was first conceived by the three B’s — The Beatles, The Beach Boys and The Byrds. It also comprises girlgroups like The Shangri-Las and The Ronettes, as well as the mod culture and avantgarde groups like The Velvet Underground. Even Captain Beefheart was an influence for some, as we shall see. Hence, the predecessors of C-86 were not exclusively musicians playing pop, but artists from other genres (like soul) as well — even non-musicians like artist Andy Warhol. But let’s focus on the pop trail.
This classic form of guitar pop virtually disappeared into a psychedelic blur by the end of the 60’s and was largely absent during the more rock- and disco-oriented 70’s. Obviously, there were a few isolated artists such as Big Star, Jonathan Richman & the Modern Lovers and The Ramones who kept the idiom alive. Punk was a big comeback for the three-minute pop song. Because apart from the lyrics and the performance, there wasn’t much provocative about punk rock — except that it was deformed by distorted sound and flawed technique. Underneath laid simple and traditional pop structures and melodies. Some were unafraid to let this show, and it was bands like Manchester’s The Buzzcocks who became truly influential on 80s pop bands in the UK. Already during the heyday of British punk, there were those who saw beyond its ragged expression towards something else. The Jam, who were originally seen as a punk band, were not really comfortable with that label and more influenced by the mods and 60’s soul music. The utlimate benefit of punk was that now practically anyone (including women) could start a band playing Ramones covers. That era also saw the birth of the fanzine culture, home taping and mixtapes, as well as a myriad of new independent labels, soon to be called ‘indies’.
Post-punk, the new wave of bands that followed hot on the heels of punk, is the single most important inspiration for guitar music today. Virtually all alternative music at the end of the 70’s was labelled post-punk and there was groundbreaking work being made in all possible directions — from the minimalism of Welsh trio Young Marble Giants to the ramshackle experiments of Swell Maps, to the violin-equipped, all-female London group The Raincoats. Another of the all too scarce female bands were Marine Girls (including budding Everything But the Girl singer Tracey Thorn), who were markedly influenced by The Raincoats and would in turn inspire many other young women to start playing music. The two most influentials bands however, seem to be The Fall and Joy Division; both from Manchester. The former with Mark E Smith’s clever lyrics grumbled out over atonal, droning guitars; the latter Factory Records’ flagship band playing Ian Curtis’ angular songs of darkness and despair. Together with maybe Rough Trade, I consider Factory to be the first indie label of note. Most of the bands on that label were more arty and sombre — The Durutti Column e.g. was far removed from 60’s pop, but at the same time there were those who had begun thinking about precisely that again.
One of them was Dan Treacy in Television Personalities. They mocked punk and its stubborn followers with the song “Part Time Punks” in 1978. Another one was Vic Godard, who had a band called The Subway Sect, which started out playing punk in 1976. He stated that “we oppose all rock ’n’ roll” and in 1993 Alan Horne (Postcard Records) said that “for a male group like Subway Sect the idea was to work, not with power, but with weakness and introversion”. Their 1978 debut single “Ambition” heralded the return of classic pop music. Soon there was talk of New Pop in the British press, and Scotland was the centre of attention (at least enough to give birth to the expression ‘the Sound of Young Scotland’). Indiepop, as it came to be called much later, burst into being with bands such as Orange Juice, Josef K, Fire Engines and Scars.
Glasgow was the home of the first label exclusively dedicated to this style and the 7” format, loved by youth in the 60's. With a cat beating a drum as its logotype, Postcard Records was started by Edwyn Collins and his eccentric friend Alan Horne to release records by Collins’ own band Orange Juice. They were the polar opposite of most other bands at the time — adopting an anti-macho, romantic image of naivety. Orange Juice’s first single, the seminal “Falling and Laughing”, was eventually released in 1980 and sounded much like the jangly pop of the near future — 1986. Postcard was hoping for commercial success and they had the artistry, but lacked the business acumen and unfortunately called it a day all too soon. Instead they gained cult status with their string of coveted singles by Orange Juice, Josef K, Aztec Camera and The Go-Betweens. The latter were actually even more ahead of the curve in playing straight-forward pop. They released the two singles “Lee Remick” and “People Say” in 1978, after which they relocated from Brisbane, Australia, to record their third single for Postcard.
Together with Aztec Camera they went on to become the most successful early indiepop band in Britain during the first half of the 80’s. They obviously influenced the musicians this paper is about, but they had a slightly more sophisticated sound, leaving the intense guitar attack behind. Another essential band was Felt from Birmingham, fronted by the now legendary Lawrence (surname always left out). They started out as an arty post-punk outfit and then veered more towards the sound of Cocteau Twins. With their 1984 album they began writing short pop songs in addition to the longer compositions that had been their trademark. Felt surely left a big impression on young musicians with aspirations beyond the three-chord song structure.
In the end though, New Pop didn’t break through and it was swiftly supplanted by New Romantic as the British charts were flooded with electronic acts such as Visage, Duran Duran and The Human League. Two interesting cases in point are Altered Images and Strawberry Switchblade — both of whom started out as part of the Scottish pop scene but reached the charts with glossier production and the use of synthesizers. Thus, the traditional pop bands remained in the background, remained independent. This meant that eventually, being ‘indie’ acquired a meaning and a value of its own. Although most bands from the initial wave quickly disbanded, the number of indie bands increased steadily; perhaps as a response to the increasing size and control of the music industry. The big sign of change was the commercial success of Rough Trade act The Smiths, which happened as much due to the unique personality of singer Morrissey as the exceptional guitar-playing of Johnny Marr. Their songwriting partnership carried them up the charts and by 1986 they were at the peak of their popularity.
BACKGROUND — Political and social context
Pop music was on its way back, for the time being on an independent level, but as you can see I’ve so far only mentioned British bands. ‘What about the USA?’ you’re thinking. On the other side of the Atlantic there were very different things going. As synthpop dominated the British charts, Americans where listening to heavy metal and hip-hop. Even on the independent side things had taken a different turn after punk. From New York came Tom Verlaine’s spindly Television, ‘no-wave’ and experimental bands like Sonic Youth. And of course there was college rock and bands such as R.E.M.. It was not until 1985 when Calvin Johnson released his first Beat Happening album and set up the K record company that POP came back to America for real. Consequently, as it had been more or less limited to Great Britain, pop music is likely to have been affected and shaped by the state of that country through the 80's.
The 80’s was the time of Thatcherism in the UK. Big industries were closing down and the miners were on strike. The most afflicted were of course the working classes — especially people living in the northern regions. It would be tempting to connect these circumstances with the concentration of bands to Scotland, but let’s not be too quick in drawing that conclusion. Naturally unemployment played its part, as it was much more fun being in a band (even a non-political one) than just being on the dole. One of the positive effects of Thatcher’s government was that the youth became thoroughly politicized — mainly in opposition to it. However, when it comes to the question whether independent pop bands of the mid-eighties were political, answers are ambiguous. There were clearly many political artists early in the decade; Billy Bragg being the most obvious. But Martin Whitehead, guitarist in The Flatmates, says that for them and many others the important thing was pop music and pop culture. “It was far more about presentation and style than content, and I’d even go as far as to say that it was in part a backlash against the political pop of the early and mid 80’s. It was about dressing cool, pop art, good melodies, classic guitars. It was very much about shedding pop music of all the socio-political baggage.” (Whitehead 2005.)
Still, there were a few sincerely political bands — McCarthy is the obvious example seeing as they claimed to be members of the communist party. The Wolfhounds were not always as frank in their statements, but shared some of the same ire towards society. And bands like Stump and Big Flame seemed political on the surface, if only for the unruly style of music they played. In fact, not that many bands had working class backgrounds (as most of my interviews have revealed), but in many ways it was a political statement just being ‘indie’ and DIY. Gregory Webster from Razorcuts says: “It was political in the same way that punk was. It was rejecting the prevailing music scene at the time and going back to basics. In this environment [with bands like Simple Minds dominating the charts], playing 3 minute pop songs like The Ramones and The Ronettes seemed like a very political statement of intent.” (Webster 2005.)
So the popularized image of a naïve young generation who believed that pop music could change the world seems a trifle exaggerated. There wasn’t a homogenous indiepop sub-culture in those days (and perhaps there still isn’t). And there was no common dress code. The term ‘anorak’, referring both to the music and its fans, came along later — allegedly invented by Simon Reynolds (writing for Melody Maker) by the end of the 80’s. As for the garment itself, it was not common in 1986. Stephen Pastel used to wear one, but together with a pair of leather trousers (True 2005). Apparently, anoraks were a very small sub-cultural group who grew out of post-punk things like Postcard, says Alistair Fitchett of the webzine Tangents and Unpopular Records. He continues: “It was very much a rejection of society’s demands for money/work-obsessed clones, a ‘revolt into childhood’ as I think Simon Reynolds called it. It was ideologically driven, but as I say, people picked up on how it looked and missed the underlying point.” (Fitchett 2005.) One London venue called The Fountain even had a policy not to let anyone without an anorak through the door. Other popular late eighties accessories were ankle socks, floral dresses and chelsea boots. But back in the day, people like Bobby Gillespie (of Primal Scream) and Edwyn Collins wearing their hair like members of The Byrds was as far as it went (True 2004). There was a small indiepop scene however, with roots in the Sound of Young Scotland, but not that many people were aware of it. What its affiliates had in common was rather a common sense of purpose — the bands, labels, promoters and most of all the fanzines. But they were soon to acquire a wider fanbase.
DISCOURSE — The mid-eighties pop scene
The success of the Smiths, who played classic pop songs with classic instrumentation, opened up many people’s eyes. But what did they see? They probably saw the whole range of new indie guitar bands, together covering a very wide spectrum. Most of them had come into contact with the Sound of Young Scotland and were influenced by 60’s pop (either directly or through Edwyn Collins). Several of them conformed to the janglepop musical style and played straight-forward songs, but without the latent disco/funk element of Orange Juice and Josef K.
Apart from other bands on Rough Trade, much of the early focus lay on Creation: a record company started by Alan McGee in the early eighties. In its halcyon era it was a thoroughly POP! label, releasing 7”s with bands like The Pastels, Primal Scream and The Jesus & Mary Chain. Stephen McRobbie from Glasgow was around when the Postcard scene happened and quickly formed his own band — The Pastels. They were not only central for the next wave of Scottish bands (The Shop Assistants, The Soup Dragons, BMX Bandits, Fizzbombs, Jesse Garon & the Desperadoes, Close Lobsters, The Clouds etc.) but seemed to embody the spirit of the whole indie scene, with their lax attitude towards musicianship and recording. Bobby Gillespie was another veteran of the scene, who had been a roadie for Altered Images as well as a short-term bass player with The Wake (another early Scottish indie band who were on Factory Records). After that he turned up as the drummer for The Jesus & Mary Chain. Formed by brothers Jim and William Reid from East Kilbride outside Glasgow, they were one of a handful of new bands (e.g. AR Kane and My Bloody Valentine) who explored the possibilities of pairing pop music and pure noise. Their first album Psychocandy sounded like it was recorded in a sewer tunnel and featured instruments and vocals distorted and feedbacked almost beyond recognition, with Beach Boys-style melodies underneath (1985, Blanco y Negro 25383). It had a huge impact, not only on subsequent pop bands investing in fuzzboxes, but also on the British shoegaze scene that was to be born at the turn of the decade.
Bobby Gillespie quit the band after Psychocandy to devote his time to a project of his own that he had been working on since the early eighties. Called Primal Scream, the original line-up released its first single “All Fall Down” on Creation in 1985 — honed pop in classic, jangly Byrds fashion. One wonders who is most surprised over Primal Scream’s unexpected musical transformation: the fans of their early indiepop period, the fans of their 1992 madchester masterpiece Screamadelica, or admirers of their recent political techno-punk (such as 2000’s Xtrmntr). Another Creation band was The Bodines from Manchester. They debuted in 1985 and went on to release several singles and an album in 1987. You can’t help making comparisons to The Smiths from the same city, whose success or passion they never truly matched. Also debuting in 1985 were the Mighty Lemon Drops. They started out as Active Restraint several years earlier, were slightly more sombre but still with an edge and often reminiscent of mid-period Echo & the Bunnymen. And then there were the ‘fast guitar’ bands; David Gedge of The Wedding Present probably had the most agile hand.
One of the more original bands of the time was The June Brides, fronted by Phil Wilson who was one of the most gifted lyricists of his time. Their sound can be described as a union of Dexy’s Midnight Runners and The Velvet Underground — including both trumpet and viola in their instrumentation. The former is highlighted on their second and perhaps most wellknown single “Every Conversation”, released on The Pink Label in 1984. Another innovative band was The Age of Chance. While the coupling of rock and dance music was not exactly novel (rock ’n’ roll originally being music for dancing) their mix of guitar pop and dance rhythms seemed futuristic compared to the rest of the indie scene. If they had come along at the time of madchester about five years later they would no doubt have gained more success. There was also a totally different group of bands playing what John Peel called ‘shambling’. This was probably because they had a shambolic approach towards recording and songwriting. Most of these bands were heavily influenced by Captain Beefheart, but I don’t believe they would have existed had it not been for The Fall. The bands were called things like Stump, A Witness, The Shrubs, Mackenzies and Big Flame (these and several others mainly released material on Ron Johnson Records) and the music was more concerned with repetitive grooves and interesting sounds than with melody or chord progressions.
When it comes to indiepop however, the most important thing that happened in the mid-eighties was probably the launch of record company The Subway Organization in 1985. SUBWAY 01 was the first proper single by The Shop Assistants: the Shopping Parade EP. The huge influence of this release is evident by the large number of bands that appeared in their wake, blatantly copying their mix of Jesus & Mary Chain and the Phil Spector girlgroup sound. The Rosehips, Bubblegum Splash!, The Fizzbombs and The Darling Buds were just a few. Another similar band was The Flatmates: the band started by Martin Whitehead who ran the Subway label. What they all had in common were fuzz guitar, a limited number of chords, simple accompaniment and female vocalists. The Soup Dragons released their first single “Whole Wide World” on Subway in 1986 and they too shared the sound of their fellow Glaswegians in The Shop Assistants. The main difference is they had a male singer, called Sean Dickson. Dickson and Jim McCulloch had formed the band after leaving BMX Bandits. They later turned ‘madchester’ and released several albums. In my opinion, the two most interesting bands on the Subway roster were The Chesterfields and Razorcuts. The Chesterf!elds (as it was originally spelt) boasted better musicianship than most of their peers and began as far back as The Shop Assistants, with whom they had shared their first release (a 1985 split-flexi). “Girl On a Boat” from their second Subway outing is a good example of their playful pop with fuzz-free jangling guitars. Razorcuts were not very keen on distortion either and the two singles they released on Subway in 1986 ought to be the very definition of janglepop. Pop moments every bit as classic as Turn! Turn! Turn!-era Byrds, with 12-string Rickenbacker and poignant, heartfelt lyrics.
In hindsight, what was so special about the year 1986? Was there a pop revolution taking place? Let’s take a look at what was going on: It was the year that The Smiths released their most highly praised album The Queen Is Dead, The Housemartins reached unexpected fame with their debut London 0 Hull 4 and Felt released their perhaps paramount achievement Forever Breathes the Lonely Word. But as it turns out, my interviewee’s don’t seem to remember any standout events. To understand how people in bands felt like in 1986 we might listen to the words of Gregory Webster: “For me it was the year that Razorcuts started releasing records, so it stood out from that point of view. I was often driving and hanging out with Talulah Gosh, and playing with people like The Soup Dragons, Primal Scream and The Pastels, so I found it all quite exciting.” (Webster 2005.)
DISCOURSE — NME 022
In retrospect there was at least one thing of note that happened in 1986. A tape was compiled and distributed by New Musical Express — a weekly music magazine started in 1952. By the 1980’s they had taken a more socialist direction, probably as a response to Thatcher’s Britain. In 1981 they started supplying free ‘covertapes’ with their issues. The first tape (NME 001) was called C81 (a reference to usual designations on tapes for home recording — C-30, C-60, C-90 etc.) and was a cross-section of the indie scene during that year. The bands featured covered a wide spectrum indeed — from the proto-indiepop of Postcard acts Orange Juice, Aztec Camera and Josef K to punk (Buzzcocks), post-punk (Raincoats, Subway Sect), ska (The Specials), and electronic music (Cabaret Voltaire and Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft from Germany).
The next tape was called Jive Wire and eventually ‘C86’ was compiled in 1986 and given the catalogue number NME 022 — meaning the tapes were obviously not all summations of a specific year. The C-86 tape was reissued on vinyl as NME C86 by Rough Trade by the end of the year. I have not been able to find out which issue (or issues) the tape came with, but that is of minor importance. The actual intentions of the people who compiled it remains unknown, but a good guess would be: for the same reasons playlists are supplied with today’s magazines — to promote the paper and the bands. At the time the NME staff was divided between people who wanted to sell the paper on hip-hop and people who wanted to stick with guitar music (Quantick 2005). Issues with hip-hop artists on the cover didn’t sell very well in Britain, so that could be a reason as well (Wikipedia 2005). Racism in music has always existed. Either way, the tape was compiled by the few NME journalists who were into guitar music, with the help of some contributors, and was therefore rather limited in the styles represented. After the success of The Smiths, they thought there was a chance that other pop bands might break through as well, writes Tom on Indie MP3 (Bartlett [year unknown]). Furthermore, David Quantick who wrote for the magazine at the time, reminds us that it was five years since C81 and that they wanted to make a similar ‘state of the independents’ round-up (Quantick 2005).
Another possible explanation, that seems common today, is that the NME was consciously trying to manufacture a scene — or to be the first to document one that already existed. There were a few connections — some of the bands knew each other and toured together — but music journalists have always been prone to exaggerate things to create a fascinating angle. I found this explanation on an NME site recounting the history of the magazine:
“[In 1986] we try to invent an alternative scene — our own version of punk you could say — by forcing a coterie of new bands onto a cassette called C86. It’s not entirely convincing and you should get out more if you remember The Shop Assistants — but it nails our colours to the mast. We, it said, for better or worse, are indie.” (NME [year unknown].)
However, I doubt that the person who wrote this was around at the time. But there are additional facts that seem to point in the same direction. After the creation of the tape, the NME tried to further boost the interest in the bands featured by setting up a ‘rock week’ at a small London venue called the ICA. 17 of 22 bands on the tape performed over the course of five consecutive nights: July 22nd to 26th (Quantick et al. 1986). On the other hand, it seems more likely that rather than trying to create a scene, the NME sensed that there was something going on and wanted to associate itself with this — which would be mutually beneficial. After all, the tape reflected not one but two emerging scenes: the ‘indiepop’ bands and the ‘shambling’ bands. Just take a look at the tracklisting:
SIDE ONE
- PRIMAL SCREAM — VELOCITY GIRL
The b-side of the band’s second single “Crystal Crescent” (on Creation 1986) has become something of an indiepop anthem with its 80 seconds of Byrds-infused janglepop. They released one album before turning to heavy rock and then reaching stardom (as one of very few bands on this tape) with a fusion of dance and pop. - THE MIGHTY LEMON DROPS — HAPPY HEAD
One of their faster songs that sounds a little less like Echo & the Bunnymen than usual. They were signed by Chrysalis simultaneously as The Shop Assistants in 1986 and this is the title-track from the first of their five albums. - THE SOUP DRAGONS — PLEASANTLY SURPRISED
This was the first song ever released by the band and is quite representative of their early punk-pop sound. - THE WOLFHOUNDS — FEELING SO STRANGE AGAIN
Exclusive for the tape, this short song is catchier than most of their output. The sinister “A Mess of Paradise” from their second album, swelling into guitar cacophony, is a better example (1989 Midnight Music CHIME 00.48 CD). - THE BODINES — THERESE
The band’s second and most wellknown single released on Creation in 1986. This is classic pop complete with piano (sorry: keyboard) and the overproduced sound typical of 80’s chart music. - MIGHTY MIGHTY — LAW
This is probably the song most heavily indebted to Orange Juice here — singer Hugh Harkin even sounds a bit like Collins. Birmingham’s Mighty Mighty released their first single just as the C-86 tape appeared, and their contribution later turned up on their fifth single the following year. Before splitting up in 1988 they had released one album and one more single, as well as appearing on the first ever Sha-La-La split-flexi (together with The Clouds). - STUMP — BUFFALO
The best description I’ve heard of this shambling band’s sound is that they went ‘booing’ — and most instruments do on this track. It also features the famous lyric: “Big bottom, swing big bottom” and “How much is the fish? Does the fish have chips?”. Stump debuted on Ron Johnson Records earlier in 1986 and “Buffalo” was released as a single in 1988 as well as an album, after which the band split up. - BOGSHED — RUN TO THE TEMPLE
This song from their first album, with its monotonous groove, sounds quite similar to Stump although the singer has a slightly stronger sense of melody. They did one more album, five singles and five sessions for John Peel between 1985 and 1987. - A WITNESS — SHARPS AND STICKS
Another Ron Johnson band — this one featuring a drum machine. They debuted in 1985 and their first album, from which this song is lifted, came the following year. - THE PASTELS — BREAKING LINES
The b-side of “Truck Train Tractor” and one of my personal favourites among all Pastels songs, this is a good depiction of their sound ca 1986. - THE AGE OF CHANCE — FROM NOW ON, THIS WILL BE YOUR GOD
They called their music ‘sonic-metal-disco’ and this exclusive track features loud guitar music over an insistent acid house beat. Their first four singles were released in 1986 (including a cover of Prince’s “Kiss”) and they continued playing until 1992.
Side Two
- THE SHOP ASSISTANTS — IT’S UP TO YOU
With gentle strums, a clear guitar sound, glockenspiel and no drums this is a song without the typical fuzzy Shop Assistants sound. It was taken from their 1985 debut EP. - CLOSE LOBSTERS — FIRESTATION TOWERS
Another band that debuted with a song on the compilation and this too is a good example of their straight-forward pop, similar to The Bodines but with a bit more character. It later appeared on their second single in 1987. - MIAOW — SPORT MOST ROYAL
An exclusive, folk-infused tune from Cath Carroll’s short-lived London band. Carroll was also writing for the NME and recording with The Hit Parade at the time. Miaow released three singles between 1985 and 1988 when they split up. After that Carroll released her first solo album on Factory Records (that had released two of Miaow’s singles). Her latest record was released by LTM in 2002. - HALF MAN HALF BISCUIT — I HATE NERYS HUGHES (FROM THE HEART)
This heckling of a wellknown female television actress comes from their first album released in 1985, which became the bestselling independent record of the following year — championed by John Peel. These half musicians/half comedians are still around today. - THE SERVANTS — TRANSPARENT
The b-side of their 1986 debut single displays the influence of late-period Beatles on David Westlake, who formed the band in London 1985, but not his main inspiration The Go-Betweens. They sent in the b-side because Westlake didn’t like the indie scene at the time. Soon aftermembers left to play with shoegazers Lush and spacerockers Loop. Instead Luke Haines joined (later of The Auteurs fame) as well as the drummer from The Housemartins. - MACKENZIES — BIG JIM (THERE’S NO PUBS IN HEAVEN)
A bit more dynamic than the stereotype shambling band, Glasgow’s Mackenzies incorporate some danceable rhythms and saxophone on this song. Their first single came out on Ron Johnson in 1986 and the third and last in 1988. - BIG FLAME — NEW WAY (QUICK WASH AND BRUSH UPON LIBERATION THEOLOGY)
Another band that could be categorized as shambling, but they were more intense than most. This 1½-minute burst of scratchy guitars is as razor-sharp as anything by Gang of Four. The Manchester three-piece Big Flame released six singles (most of them on Ron Johnson) between 1983 and 1986. - WE’VE GOT A FUZZBOX AND WE’RE GONNA USE IT — CONSOLE ME
This all-female proto riot grrrl band was formed in Birmingham by three 16-year-olds and one older sister in 1985. They debuted the following year with several singles and a full-length (on which this song appears). Fuzzbox disbanded in 1990 after one more album, but Maggie Dunne recently turned up as bassist in proper riot grrrl band Babes In Toyland from the US. - MCCARTHY — CELESTIAL CITY
A song that is exclusive to this compilation and an example of the group’s early sound with its Smiths-flavoured guitar sound. - THE SHRUBS — BULLFIGHTER’S BONES
This song lands near the ‘Big Flame’ end of the shambling scale. The Shrubs was formed by Nick Hobbs after playing in the Swedish band Kropparna for a year and being kicked out of an early incarnation of Stump. They signed with Ron Johnson prior to contributing this track and released their first record soon afterwards. Several singles and albums followed before they split up in 1989. - THE WEDDING PRESENT — THIS BOY CAN WAIT
A perfect distillation of the early Wedding Present sound, with lightning-fast guitars that make this song seem monumental even though it’s just short of four minutes long.
The effects of the C-86 tape are just as difficult to determine as its purpose. On a mainstream level one can safely conclude that nothing much happened. None of the bands really broke through, except for Primal Scream and The Wedding Present (but that was years later and had nothing to do with C-86). And from my interviews it seems that most people treated it with a shrug in independent circuits as well. In fact, it seems that many didn’t like it at all. “Because wasn’t it really just some kind of kick-back constructed by one faction of NME journalists during/after the Hip-Hop Wars? And as we all know, you should never trust journalists.” writes Alistair Fitchett on Tangents (Fitchett 2002). The Legend!, nowadays known as Everett True, was writing for the NME at the time, as well as for his own fanzine (which was also called The Legend!, as was his band). He was one of the people who had been introducing all these previously ignored bands to the music press and its readers and he says that:
“C-86 was actually a massive disappointment to me: for a compilation that so clearly had its roots in all the bands I would write about for NME at the time, it was incredible I hated so much of it (it’s cos the compilers were too arrogant to consult a “kid” like me). I still don’t like much of the tape — it’s unrepresentative of its times certainly (as opposed to the brilliant C-81 comp, five years earlier) and even unrepresentative of the small narrow strata of music it thought it was representing. I recall a Troublefunk show that I danced my ass off at.
The standing joke at the time was that the tape comprised all the bands who’d slept on my floor when they played London — Shop Assistants, Wedding Present, Pastels, Bogshed, A Witness, Age of Chance, Soup Dragons…” (True 2005.)
No doubt, most of the fanzine writers at the time had an aversion towards the NME. Mainly because it pretended to know what was going on in the independent ‘underground’ arena. Often, they tried to make it seem as if it they had discovered the bands that fanzines had been writing about for years, says Matt Haynes who wrote the fanzine Are You Scared to Get Happy? and ran the Sha-La-La flexi label (Haynes 2005). And after all, the people who were into the music probably already owned what songs they did like on the tape. However, not everyone shared this condescending view. Amelia Fletcher who played with Talulah Gosh says that: “The tape helped generate interest in the scene, as did the surrounding press coverage. I think it made everyone feel like we were embarked upon an adventure that could actually prove important.” (Fletcher 2005.) This goes well with the words of Martin Whitehead, who promoted gigs at the The Mission Club and The Bunker in Bristol: “I think in the month or two after it [the tape] came out, the bands that had been on C-86 got a bit of a boost, but great new bands were coming along almost every week, so within a few months it was no longer an advantage in getting gigs or whatever.” (Whitehead 2005.)
But why didn’t it affect the mainstream music market? In my opinion the compilation wasn’t strong enough to create a broad appeal. It didn’t include any bands from other underground scenes like ska, hip-hop or dance and it left out many competent guitar pop bands as well. The compilers were most likely not aware of bands like The June Brides, The Chesterfields or Razorcuts. And there were several bands who submitted tracks that were never included — BMX Bandits for one. Just compare the tape with another indie compilation of the time: Doing It For the Kids released on Creation in 1988. Although it only compiled material released by Creation (during several years though), it included strong songs by as diverse bands as Felt, Razorcuts, Momus, The Jazz Butcher, Jasmine Minks, Primal Scream and My Bloody Valentine.
ANALYSIS — Scene, genre or fabrication?
To conclude, there were no readily identifiable immediate effects of the tape compilation. The scenes that the tape reflected would most likely have continued along their merry way anyhow. The effects were much more long-term and eventually became manifest in the same media they originated from: the music press. Over the years, ‘C-86’ began to be used not only as the name of a compilation tape but as a term of its own. By the late 80’s it was common and almost exclusively used with a derogatory meaning. Because at this time, the hype was far gone and you can fairly say that there was a real backlash in the press — even (and perhaps most strongly) in the NME, as the writers who had never liked the music in the first place got their say in. The term ‘twee’ grew common at the same time, and it almost seemed like a common cause to use both of them to clamp down on all indiepop, whether it was precious and quaint or not.
‘C-86’ was used in a revisionist manner, leaving out the noisy, confrontational bands on the tape, and instead manufacturing a scene of bands that happened to be inspired by one or two of the others. Most heavily affected (and most undeservingly so) was the newborn Sarah Records. Their every release was dismissed by the press as fey C-86 jangle and accused of being deliberately twee, even though the label’s founders Matt Haynes and Clare Wadd never felt affiliated with what was meant by any of those words. They wanted to make a statement and for it to be taken seriously (Wadd 2005, Haynes 2005).
And all things considered, C-86 never was one unified scene. Indeed, the tape touched upon an emerging indiepop movement as well as the short-lived shambling scene, which were practically miles apart. The shambling bands didn’t want to be linked to naïve pop and their demise was largely a result of being thrown into the C-86 hype. Even indiepop in itself could hardly be called a unified scene in 1986 — at least not in the sense of the word that shoegaze was (a very limited number of bands, mostly concentrated to London, who knew each other, went to each others gigs and played very similar music). The similarities in sound and attitude between e.g. the cultured jangle of Razorcuts and the fuzzed out stomping of Shop Assistants were few. What the really quite diverse independent pop bands of the mid-eighties shared was merely a DIY sensibility, a pop art aesthetic, a fanzine self-publishing community and a sense of alienation that created a common purpose.
Nowadays [meaning 2005] C-86 is widely used in independent circuits, almost as if it were a genre — for the most part in the USA and in Sweden. People use it as a reference “to sell seven-inch singles on eBay” (True 2005) and you can’t visit an indie mailorder site without seeing it as a description of the sound of some record (be it old or new). C-86 has become just one more missive in the confusing sea of indistinct categories used to describe indie music. And as David Hibett writes in his article “What Is Indie Rock?” the endless differentiation of indie subgenres and “the dizzying circulation and generally flippant use of such tags” only proves their makeshift quality, and that they can’t all be accurate representations of sounds (Hibbett 2005, page 55). This supposed C-86 genre is taken to mean bands that (from what I can tell) are similar to/inspired by The Shop Assistants and The Pastels. These bands (like The Flatmates and Talulah Gosh) seem to share a common sound and most of them were active 1986–88. Perhaps it’s because there is no other handy way to categorise British indiepop prior to Sarah Records? Then again, most of these bands fit well into the twee-pop genre as well, which again is more widely recognized outside the UK where both ‘twee’ and ‘C-86’ are still used chiefly as insults (Wadd 2005).
Evidently, C-86 is not a genre — and there certainly never was a ‘C-86 sound’. Just compare the sound of bands like Miaow and The Wolfhounds. Of course some bands had the same influences and played similar music, especially those released by Subway Organization. Many of their records have the same sort of sound, which might be because many were recorded in the same studio (SAM in Bristol) by the same person — or just because it was a sound very typical of the music label boss Martin Whitehead liked (Whitehead 2005). Another studio with a real trademark sound was The Royal Leamington Spa with its crystalline reverb. That was where John A. Rivers recorded most of the Creation bands and the likes of Felt, Razorcuts and Talulah Gosh put some of their best material to tape. And although it has given name to a series of compilations collecting obscure songs by sometimes equally obscure 80’s indiepop bands — The Sound of Leamington Spa volumes one to five so far (released by a German label called Firestation Tower, by the way) — it wasn’t dedicated solely to pop music. The recording of The Specials’ renowned “Ghost Town” there is just one example (Fletcher 2005).
The only way C-86 could ever be a genre is if you, like some people apparently do today, claim that the name has simply been lifted off the tape and applied to the late eighties indiepop scene. And that, if anything, seems unreasonable. A good example of everything I consider wrong about this way of thinking is Michael Hann’s article “Fey City Rollers” in Guardian Unlimited, following the release of Rough Trade Shops: Indiepop 1 last year. Hann claims to have been a fan of the music at the time, but seems more intent on feeding the myth than providing facts. The words of old indiepop personalities (some of which I have interviewed as well) are used to paint a romantic picture of a scene typified by kinship, political revolt, asexuality and childishness, a stereotype dresscode but also a sense of anti-fashion. Not only does he refrain from deconstructing these common prejudices, but seems to acknowledge them as charming shortcomings (Hann 2004.)
If it’s not a genre, scene or sound, then how does one define C-86? Because it seems apparent that it does have some significance beyond being an NME covertape. Of the people I have interviewed, some have never put the word in their mouth (and will probably refuse to do so in the future as well) and most seem to settle for it just being a tape. But still they acknowledge that other people do put a broader meaning into the word. I believe C-86 can still be useful as a term, provided that its meaning is revised (or rather restored). A more reasonable definition would be that C-86 is a range of independent British guitar bands, most of them formed and disbanded during the years 1985–1989 and some of them being on an NME compilation called C-86. Although they grew out of the same tradition (the DIY/fanzine culture born with punk), they covered a wide musical spectrum, while clearly being “not rock”. Furthermore, it should be mentioned that this is where contemporary indiepop emerged from. You may say there were exceptions from this, as some bands formed earlier than 1985, some moved to major labels etc. And you may say it seems like an overly eclectic definition. But in fact it is not. This definition incorporates both pop and shambling (which does imply virtually all indie guitar music, as this was not very big in Britain at the time) and both the bands who were on the tape and those who should have been (or just as easily could).
The legacy of C-86
It’s impossible to draw a line between the ‘original’ C-86 bands and the new bands that were coming along seemingly every week. A band may have formed in 1985 but not released anything until 1987. One such band was This Poison!. They hailed from Perth, Scotland and only recorded two singles. It is no wonder that The Wedding Present’s label Reception Records put them out, as they were among the few to match the pure adrenaline rush of David Gedge’s band. Although playing their guitars just as fast, This Poison! were also more dynamic, with each member an excellent musician. There weren’t many bands who could pull off songs like “Question Mark” or “St Johnstoun”.
There actually seemed to be second wave of bands after C-86, most of them markedly influenced by The Shop Assistants and their ilk. On Subway there were The Rosehips and the hopelessly incompetent (irresistibly endearing?) Bubblegum Splash!, on their very own Heaven Records were the Fat Tulips, from Glasgow hailed Remember Fun and Baby Lemonade, from Wales came Hue Williams’ The Pooh Sticks with their Fierce label, and of course there was Brighton’s The Popguns. Although the bands on C-86 didn’t break through, the attention from the press led to the success of fledgling groups like The Darling Buds and The Primitives. The Darling Buds had actually shared a split-flexi with Bubblegum Splash! in 1987, and at the time I don’t think anyone could have imagined that one of them would go on to Top of the Pops and a deal with Epic. The Primitives released their debut single in 1986 on their own Lazy label, which was soon to become a subsidiary of RCA Records. Today they’re probably remembered for “Crash”, a re-recorded version of which made it onto the Dumb Dumber movie soundtrack. There’s a visible line of gradual commercialisation of indie music in Britain — starting with C-86 and ending with the monstrous proportions of Oasis and Britpop, after which the bubble burst.
At some point in between Sarah Records became the guiding light of British indiepop. It was run by Clare Wadd and Matt Haynes, and didn’t have all that much to do with C-86. Their political (socialist, feminist and pro public transport) label was started in Bristol 1987 and ran until 1995 when SARAH 100 was released. Thus, it overlapped a bit with Subway — also from Bristol — and has a tendency to overshadow them these days. I think it reasonable to regard C-86 and Sarah simply as two different, yet slightly connected and coexistent eras in British indiepop. There was definitely a connection — Sarah grew out of the same fanzine culture (Sha-La-La specifically) and early releases like Another Sunny Day’s “Anorak City”, the 14 Iced Bears single and The Sea Urchins’ “Pristine Christine” can definitely be called C-86. They also did a Talulah Gosh retrospective. What sets Sarah apart however, is that they quickly became associated with a new and different aesthetic. This more refined, gossamer sound was calmer and more effects-laden, and it was a direct derivative of bands like The Go-Betweens, Aztec Camera, The Hit Parade (who later recorded for Sarah) and Factory acts like New Order and The Wake (also later on Sarah). The only C-86 bands that fitted into this context were The Servants and Razorcuts. The Factory influence was especially apparent in Sarah’s first ‘successful’ band The Field Mice and their lesser known colleagues in Brighter. To see Sarah Records as defining of an era is not as rash as it may seem, as there were new bands on other labels that were also heading in the same direction — e.g. The Siddleys and The James Dean Driving Experience. Its output was even similar to the shoegaze scene, which it emerged in parallel to.
What role does C-86 play in the history of pop? Some bands have proven durable than others and are still around today, though they now make different music (Primal Scream, The Pastels, The Wedding Present and BMX Bandits). However, its most obvious influence is on the twee-pop genre. Twee-pop is often wrongly confused with C-86 — probably because bands like Talulah Gosh, BMX Bandits and Razorcuts were harbingers of the sub-genre. When asked if Razorcuts were twee and about their influence, Gregory Webster says: “Hell, yes. Given that we were staunchly anti-macho in our approach, to the extent that some journalists couldn’t stomach us at all, I guess we probably played our part.” (Webster 2005.)
Twee-pop is often accused of being sexist or reactionary in its worldview and gender roles, but it was in fact a reaction against the stereotypes of rock and the typical lads’ band. Many bands included women and not just as vocalists (or visual figureheads). It was also a defence of naivety and innocence wihtin cultural expression, though some bands lost sight of the politics and the punk edge that bands like Heavenly, Tiger Trap and Fat Tulips had. Thus they became easy targets for anyone who disliked the music, and their supporters dismissed as quaint, lollipop-sucking, teddy bear-hugging adolescents who didn’t want to grow up. Another genre for which some C-86 bands were important is riot grrrl, which is similar to twee-pop in several ways. Rather than taking wimp stance, this genre was as aggressive as it was uncompromising. It also took the feminist politics to another level and played with people’s preconception of the female artist/body. Riot grrrl became relatively popular in the early 90’s with bands like British Huggy Bear and American Bikini Kill or Bratmobile.
In general, C-86 has had an unquestionable importance for all indiepop since 1986 up until today, where some of those bands (together with most of the Sarah Records roster) are treated like the holy grail of indiepop. Strangely, even people who weren’t there at the time seem nostalgic about it. Most importantly, the formation of a British indiepop scene in the late eighties inspired like-minded people in other countries. The ‘first’ Swedish indiepop band Happydeadmen debuted in 1989 and heralded the wave of ‘swindie’ bands — most of them from northern Sweden; in the USA bands like Velocity Girl and Black Tambourine got together and the Slumberland and Bus Stop labels were founded; In Australia bands like The Sugargliders followed in the footsteps of Even As We Speak, and the list goes on…
To end with, here is a playlist compiled in 2021 featuring bands from in and around the scene. Some slightly earlier, some slightly later.
