Flowers in the Dustbin

Biography

From a line from the Sex Pistols’ most famous moment to the celebration of freaks and misfits, Flowers In The Dustbin were a band constantly tempted by the possibility of success and “cool” stature in the anarcho punk scene but were acutely aware of what sacrifices would have to be made to their identity and their own vision. The band that wrote about people that didn’t fit in and those alienated by being just on the outside of so-called normality couldn’t compromise their vision for the paltry...

From a line from the Sex Pistols’ most famous moment to the celebration of freaks and misfits, Flowers In The Dustbin were a band constantly tempted by the possibility of success and “cool” stature in the anarcho punk scene but were acutely aware of what sacrifices would have to be made to their identity and their own vision. The band that wrote about people that didn’t fit in and those alienated by being just on the outside of so-called normality couldn’t compromise their vision for the paltry reward of “success” as a popular band in the anarchist punk scene of the early ‘80s. This inability to turn away from their idea of celebrating odd balls and those who don’t fit in (whether those people were paying attention or not) became the band’s instinct, fighting the good fight against the formulaic and, therefore, convenient.

Hailing from South London, singer Gerard and bassist Chas had known each other through Gerard’s previous band; a straight ahead punk band called the Anabollic Steroids.(note)

Recalls Gerard, “We all met through living near each other ‘round South London - a lot of people in what you could broadly call the punk scene knew each other because there weren’t that many of us. Me and Simon were in a band called the Anabollic Steroids (deliberate misspelling), Chas had been in a semi-band called the Nightmare. Also, Simon and Bill were in a band called Fear.”
Says Chas, “I saw Gerard’s band Anabollic Steroids and thought he was a great performer and also seemed more serious about being in a band than the people I was playing with…”

During this period, from 1980 to 1982, the second wave of punk was in full force with all of its different incarnations. That Gerard and Chas and Flowers In The Dustbin are perceived to have always been a part of the anarcho punk scene is true and false. At the earliest stages, the lines were blurred. The categories and sub-factions didn’t exist and everyone was part of that great primordial ooze labeled “punk” for lack of a better term. It was only a little later that the lines became drawn and the different punk scenes became their own nation-states and every band had to be in one place or another. Despite the music press’s predictable role in creating these sub-divisions, there were definitely bands that enjoyed the distinction. Suddenly, it became a lot easier to be a big fish in a small pond…

Gerard, “I got into punk through the Pistols shenanigans, particularly watching the famous Bill Grundy interview on telly. Crass I got into by seeing a mail-order advert in a British music paper for The Feeding Of The Five Thousand - I was attracted by the fact they’d put a record out that was 17 tracks for 1.99 GB pounds - ah, I thought, maybe here’s a group who are keeping the faith, which hardly anyone was at the time. As far as the ‘anarchist punk scene’ goes, I think we just drifted into it by virtue of common ideas and a way of getting gigs easily. That might sound flippant, but not many people would give you a gig back then. To me, it was still just the punk scene, as were the other myriad scenes that were just beginning to split off into their various factions. I remember Bauhaus describing themselves as a punk band in a fanzine around that time, which I’d still argue was true.”

Chas, “Being younger than Gerard I was only aware of the Pistols from a distance (things could have been so different, I remember my mum turning off a TV documentary about them pre-Grundy after about 10 seconds - “we’re NOT watching that”)
“I was more into the outrage and troublemaking than the music of bands like the Pistols and the Clash, although I liked X-ray Spex. I got hold of a Crass single because I had heard they were the most extreme punk band - I had no idea at the time what that entailed I just liked the concept! I don’t think I was influenced by their politics much because they weren’t saying anything that wasn’t already obvious to me, but then once you find like minds it becomes a lot easier to make sense of what you think.

“Gerard’s right about the anarcho scene. At the time we got into it there were very blurred lines between the anarchos and the goths - because the goth bands were just bands they weren’t corralled into a fashion - so a lot of the people who might see Crass and the Poison Girls might also see the Mob or Blood and Roses and might also see Southern Death Cult or Sex Gang Children. Then the journalist boyfriend of the singer of a band called Brigandage tried to lump some of these bands as a “positive punk” movement and it all backfired ludicrously so bands started to define themselves as anarcho bands or goth bands. But for a few months in 1982-3 there was a really lively scene and even after that the “anarcho” scene in London was a mixture of all sorts of people and I think, like the Mob, we fitted into that because we didn’t fit into it.”

Chas and Gerard started playing together. A bond was built around their inspiration to do something new and different. Their mutual desire to go beyond what was thought of as “punk” at the time, became a catalyst for musical experiments and investigation that, at least in some subconscious way, affected what the band would do and their approach to music. This absorption of elements extended beyond music to film, although the quest for new inspirations was intertwined with the quest for fun.

Gerard, “…The reason I left the Steroids was because I wanted to move beyond barre-chords and shouting, which at the time seemed to have outlived any capacity for imagination. I never thought that ‘straightforward’ punk was living up to what I saw as its enormous potential.”
Chas, “…I liked Crass at the time and was a big Dead Kennedys fan but I also really liked early Pink Floyd and Syd Barrett. We were always looking for something else to listen to - I remember going to Woolworth’s with Gerard and buying some chamber music LP to see if there was anything interesting about it (There wasn’t. It was shit, but that’s experimenting for you).”
Gerard, “I don’t remember this at all…”
Chas, “That’s cos I was the sap who wasted 5 pounds on it!”
Gerard, “…but it did strike a thought in my mind that we also derived a lot of inspiration from films: The Tin Drum and Maitresse are certainly two that me and Chas went to see on more than one occasion in an attempt to soak up some sort of mutual inspiration.”
Chas, “Yeah - and punk all-nighters at the scala.”

At this point, Flowers In The Dustbin had formed their core. While hunting out new ideas to infuse into and/or inspire their creativity, Gerard and Chas started the long process of putting together a stable line-up all the while moving forward with their “work”.

Chas, “…we got on friendly terms and got together to form a band, but for the first year or so went through about 10 line ups and spent most of the time writing and rehearsing (including attempts to cover “Seasons In The Sun” and Nat King Cole’s “Nature Boy” - bad ideas but indicative of our - Gerard’s especially - desire to get out of punk rock - musically that is).(note)

Despite the constant line-up changes, by 1983 the band was gigging out regularly and was developing a following with the then booming anarcho squatter scene. Though often shambolic due to naiveté and disrespect for professionalism, the band managed to make positive impressions on people through their confidence and obliviousness to the necessity of traditional “rock” trappings. Besides, disrespect for professionalism, while sometimes annoying, is often an early indicator of an artist’s potential to go beyond accepted realms. It’s been true from Rauschenberg to Ornette Coleman to punk rock.

Gerard, “The early gigs were really positive - victories of spirit over musical ability. In the anarcho-scene, such as it was, some people got really into it. But more just wanted hardcore music and thrash bands.”
Chas, “I think we went through a phase after our first 3 or 4 gigs (after the first gig someone came up to me and the then guitarist and said “I really love the way you had your guitars out of tune with each other” after that we did sound checks)…”
Gerard, “…that was one of Omega Tribe.”
Chas, “…where we really hit form and people either loved or hated us - and either was pretty much fine with me at the time. I remember abusing an audience for failing to listen to “Aim For The Sky” once and getting a round of applause for it. That kind of thing was as big a part of the band, I think, as the music for the first year or so - something Gerard was really good at just disconcerting people and challenging their expectations in a way that some people really hated.”
That summer, Mark from The Mob offered to release a record for them on his band’s label, All The Madmen. This offer of tangible merit was the impetus for Gerard and Chas to stabilize the line-up once and for all. So, Simon and Bill were fixed to the band on guitar and drums respectively, if not by slightly dubious means.

Chas, “In summer 1983 we actually played a gig - in Telford in the midlands which seemed to be a haven for imaginative dropouts at the time - then we started getting gigs around the squat scene in London and the Mob’s singer saw and liked us and offered to put out a record. A week before the recording, Gerard and I decided that whoever was playing drums and guitar for us that week was no good and we went to see Si and Bill (who had sat in on drums for us before) and stole them from the band they were in - a machiavellian act of which I am still proud. I had known Si and Bill for a while before that ‘cos I was at school with Si’s brother and he knew Bill.”

The band rushed in a recorded the brilliant “Freaks Run Wild In The Disco” 12”. The record was unlike anything that was happening at the time. Unlike a lot of bands from their area, they weren’t part of the fatalistic gothic edged scene that derived response through images of post-apocalyptic ennui (probably had something to do with that vegan diet as well). Nor were they part of the sloganeering anarcho scene that was being duplicated over and over again around London (and eventually the world). “Freaks Run Wild” is a celebration of the hopes and desires (carnal and otherwise) of a social class of people that are Western cultures equivalents of the outcasts.

Even the title, “Freaks Run Wild In The Disco” is not a duality. The unsuspecting record buyer might think that the title refers to a scream of horror; “Oh no! The freaks are funning wild in the disco!” But nothing could be farther from the truth. It’s a running wild in celebration.
Musically, the band was also unlike most other “punk” bands in the underground. It was obvious from early on that the band were not tucked away with a steady diet of Crass and Conflict. The music was a broad spectrum of ideas all controlled by the melodic instinct of the songs and the singing. Despite what in hindsight could be seen as influences from indie music of the time, the band felt increasingly isolated and unable to feign interest in either the bands surrounding them or the bands in the indie charts. Still, there is some satisfaction in knowing that there were punk kids out there rocking to a band that was listening to the Cocteau Twins and the Smiths. (note)
Chas, “Also - it didn’t occur to me at the time - but we were increasingly cut off from what was going on musically. When you think of the big “alternative” bands of the mid 80s, none of us really listened to them - although I got into the Fall later on and Si liked Spear of Destiny. When The Smiths brought out “The Queen Is Dead” they inspired a generation of shit bands, but I didn’t even hear the record for about 3 years…”
Gerard, “But Chas, I remember when the Smiths first album came out, we both thought it was great on at least one level - Morrissey was writing lyrics about not wanting to work - I remember we enjoyed that.”
Chas, “That’s true - in fact I thought their first album was great and listened to it a lot - and tried to rip off what difference does it make musically - with some success I thought. But what I mean is that the “Queen Is Dead” - which I have seen hailed as the most important/best album of the decade, made no impression on me because by then it seemed the group was already a parody of itself and I had been to see them at county hall and seen all these people worshiping Morrissey and shoving daffodils down the back of their trousers and it just turned me right off (it wasn’t the daffodils just the follower mentality) So when they were at their most dominant I (and the rest of us I think) weren’t interested.”
Gerard, “I also remember being in the Rough Trade shop (presumably earlier than this), collecting our mail, and the guy behind the counter pointing to a group of people and saying ‘they’re the Smiths’, presuming we’d go over to say hello. But all I thought was ‘they look like a bunch of students in long Macs’, so I didn’t bother.
“To continue with this line, I remember having protracted discussions with All The Madmen about whether we should try and dumb-down our words for Smiths fans. Given that they’re looked at now as pseudo-intellectuals within the pop world, there’s a heavy ironic twist there!”
Chas, “I was listening to the Great Society and the Monochrome Set, Bill was into Led Zeppelin and Gerard was into Melanie. The Cure - did any of us even listen to them? And its not as if there were even any anarcho bands who we were thinking, I can’t wait for their next record. Between the first Sex Gang Children album in 1983 and the Falls Bend Sinister in 1986 the only contemporary music that excited me was ours and the only other contemporary band I listened to was the Cocteau Twins (the Doors I remember as being a band we all liked?).” (note)
Gerard, “I think we all liked the Cocteaus, I hated the Fall.”
Chas, “Yeah I was on my own there.”

With “Freaks Run Wild In The Disco” 12” out and a stable line-up, the band began playing more solid gigs that led to a growing following. Within their local “branch” of the anarcho punk scene, the band started to find kinship with some of the more like-minded bands.
Gerard, “Always thought the Mob were - mixing emotion with politics and not being afraid to show more vulnerable sides of themselves. To a lesser extent, Zounds, Omega Tribe, Poison Girls. We felt closest to the Mob, though, and it was they who put out our first record. I used to know Ian Astbury back in the Southern Death Cult days and thought he’d do a lot more than he did, being an old Poison Girls fan.
“I must say though, we used to get associated with other bands that I just couldn’t understand - people I felt nothing in common with at all.”
Chas, “Oh come on now Gerard we did that tour with Feud and we loved them… only joking, we never, apart from the Mob, made any positive links with any other bands that I can think of, although we were on speaking terms with Blyth Power for a while - I don’t remember us ever having a friendly relationship with bands we played with, which helps explain how we got where we are today! Come to think of it one of the main reasons I stopped being in bands was that I was sick of being forced to socialise with people from other bands. It was soundmen that we really failed to hit it off with. There are few more satisfying feelings for a musician than a soundman’s throat in your hands.”
But at the same time, touring was still difficult for a band not playing three chord thrash while still being thought of under the umbrella (however unwilling) of anarcho punk. Even connecting with people in the scene could prove difficult.

Gerard, “Gigs outside of London were usually to about thirty people, though often ten of those would have hitchhiked to see us. We did one gig with Flux and KUKL and didn’t strike any common ground at all, though diplomacy prevents me from going into detail.”
Chas, “I know we didn’t hit it off but I always thought it was because - whatever their merits before or later - both bands stank like two of the biggest musical turds of all time that night…

“But we did play some good gigs out of London - okay there was the night we played to 10 people in Nottingham when there had been a tornado in the city and we got paid two pounds; and the night we turned up at Bradford and the organizer had forgotten to promote the gig or turn up. But we played to some decent crowds at Bristol and Telford and the other time at Bradford. And we did the Mars Bar tour - when Mars did a deal that if you ate enough mars bars (no problem) you could get cheap National Express coach tickets and so we played a few dates on the strength of that, taking everything up on the coaches.”
The band’s outsider status was starting to take it’s toll and the band’s ability to connect with the anarcho scene put them more in the position of outside agitator rather than collaborator. Completely self-aware, the band had little time for what they saw as redundancy and fan-dom especially coming from Crass supporters.
Chas, “…I remember we used to get these interviews mailed to us with a list of questions along the lines of…
’What do you think of Anarchy?’
’What do you think of Peace?’
’What do you think of vivisection?’
’Do you eat meat?’
“Blah, blah, blah, a complete failure of imagination, and a lot of bands sets seemed to me to be an attempt to answer those questions in the correct way, like filling out a form…”
Gerard, “At the height of the anarcho scene, I felt like a failed artist because they just wanted entertainers - punk equivalents of top ten artists. There was I wanting to change the world, and there were they, waiting for me to lay into a three-chord thrash about ‘the system’ without wanting to change the world at all. And I thought about the miners strike and I thought about the Irish freedom problem and I thought these middle-class wankers don’t actually give a fuck. So I tried to seduce them with entertainment, and seeing as the world only got worse via Reagan and Thatcher, I’d say we all failed at the time.”

Through working with All The Madmen, the band came into contact with Rob from the Faction (who would eventually run the label with Sean Forbes). The band decided to put together a full-length cassette tape for Rob’s cassette only label, 96 Tapes.
Gerard, “We knew Rob (who did 96 tapes) from the Wapping Anarchy Centre and various acquaintances socially. But these friendships were more the property of Chas, Bill and Si than me…”
Chas, “Were they? I knew Rob but “he was no friend of mine” and I never went to the Wapping Anarchy Centre. However as far as I remember the tracks on the tape were 4 track demos we recorded at our rehearsal studio and a live version of “Aim For The Sky”. I seem to remember that we gave the stuff to Rob and the tape came out but we never really seemed involved in the process - never got any to sell I think - it was the usual story, once we recorded the songs we lost interest in the whole thing, perhaps Si and Bill know more…”
The end result was, “All The Best People Are Perverts”, a collection of demo recordings as well as a scattering of live material. This recording, in many ways, is the band’s ultimate document as it covers a wide range of ideas that are all hinted at in the band’s few vinyl releases.

First of all, there is a definite leaning towards upbeat and bouncy songs. Even the live recording of “Love Is A Bastard” (recorded at their first gig with Simon on guitar) features a catchy guitar riff reminiscent of New Order or even the Pixies. “Cowboys & Indians” could please even the average Adverts fan. Well, musically, anyway.
But these hook-laden numbers only served to heighten the power of the slower, brooding numbers. In particular, a bass and vocal duet called “Aim For The Sky” stands out as the tapes strongest moment with a cathartic vocal unleashed from years of repression and self-realized ostracism. The song is an emotive tour de force challenging even the beautiful peaks of the Rites Of Spring album.

I’ve never loved anybody
At the same time they loved me…
Don’t laugh
I’ve got all my love and I want to give it
I’ve got all my life and I’m gonna live it
Don’t laugh at me to be cynical
Don’t laugh at me to be normal
There’s so much we could achieve (note)

The forthright of the lyricism is certainly off-putting. Its frankness is downright uncomfortable. With the delivery as such, you feel like you’re eaves dropping on one man’s total breakdown and struggle for acknowledgement. In a world of political slogans referring to world’s far away, Gerard’s lyrics were hitting a little too close to home.

Gerard, “I never really considered the music escapist in the sense of avoiding issues, but a lot of the imagery came from dreams (the sort you have asleep). I’ve never *just* listened to punk, and I did think a lot of it was lacking in honesty at the time…I was trying to express myself (surely the point!), whereas I felt a lot of folk were trying to re- express Crass or whoever, which struck me as self-defeating idiocy. I was probably more influenced by Melanie Safka than anyone else.”
Chas, “We were constantly trying to create another world - but I wouldn’t call it escapist - because we were actually trying to make a place to live in where the demands of the “real” world, namely having to waste time getting a job and doing things that didn’t appeal to you were irrelevant and we succeeded up to a point - at least that’s what I was trying to do I think all of us was in their own way.”
If “Aim For The Sky” was the tapes catharsis, “Vethixo Disco” was certainly the theme… the band’s theme even. The concept was that of a fantastic disco over-run by freaks and social outcasts as opposed to the “beautiful people” who’s shallowness is only half as offensive as the control they have (socially, emotionally, even financially… what else is there?) over the lives of others.
Gerard, “I made up the word Vethixo at a time when I was trying to write a whole new language (ah! The arrogance of youth!). The concept was to try and find our own space, away from the easy definitions like anarcho and punk. It was almost definitely a bad tactic though - I didn’t realize just how much people clung to those definitions, and how much of an audience we lost by trying to go further.
“Discos in England at the time were the sole preserve of straight, beautiful, perfect people, so it seemed an interesting image to have ‘Freaks Run Wild In The Disco’, which began life as a small poem in the first flowers booklet:

I say I’m proud to be a freak
To cover up the fact I’ve got no choice
But insecurities still creep
Around uncertainties in my voice
Flowers in the dustbin, quite a hip name
Throwing wild images together
Music, use it, quite a nice game
It won’t last forever
Feeling ripe to be put on a sideshow
‘Freaks run wild in the disco’”

It would have seemed like a perfect time for the band to put together a follow up record to “Freaks Run Wild” with All The Madmen. Though the label might have been the most appropriate place for Flowers In The Dustbin to continue recording, the realities of independent labels confounded that notion.

Gerard, “At the time All The Madmen was pretty aligned with the Kill Your Pet Puppy Collective (who did a fanzine of the same name) - I think we definitely felt kindred spirits there, so when they asked us to do a record, we were well up for it. I’m sure both sides would have loved to do more, but there was never any money basically.”
Chas, “Yeah if only there had been, All The Madmen was a great thing but the Mob was on its last legs by then and once they split up the money dried up - from a trickle to a desert.”
So, that’s when the most unlikely of unions was developed. For the release of the bands next record, they agreed to record a single for Mortarhate, the label funded and operated by hardcore, thrash band Conflict. But the band and label were politically aligned within the realms of anarchist punk and both sides were intrigued by the idea of doing something out of the ordinary; Marx’s idiom of heightening the contradiction made practical by punk rock.
Gerard, “Again, Conflict were local to us - I think we saw a mutual piece of fun in doing the unexpected. I insisted the sleeve had to be color because all their others were uniform black and white. I can’t say Flowers and Conflict were ever close but we were obviously close enough to do a record with them. The truth of the matter was that we weren’t exactly flooded with record offers throughout our career, so any offer was gratefully accepted! Which isn’t to dis Conflict - there was a broad understanding we were on the same side as Thatcher was tearing our country apart and Reagan yours. We were always more militant as people than our songs suggested - the opposite of almost every other band in that department!”

Chas, “I have a hazy memory that we arranged to record an album for Mortarhate and then forgot but that may be something we imagined. I remember meeting Colin - seemed like a nice bloke - and some other geezer in a pub and that was the extent of the thinking behind the record. They made 1000 sold them and then did nothing which is a shame ‘cos it wasn’t a bad single.”
“Nails Of The Heart” was a brilliant record done in a proper studio allowing for the band to create a fuller sound then they had before. On the a-side, the song (which has a catchy swing rhythm and an almost walking bass line) ends with a shimmer of guitar constructed by six separate tracks each strumming differently arranged notes in the minor scale.
Though the a-side is certainly the more immediate song, the b-side is definitely the record’s highlight with a quasi-psychedelic re-working of “All Fools Day” from the 96 Tapes release (another bass and vocal duet this time with additional cymbal wash to create an ethereal feel while finding an understated way to fill space) and “The Reason Why”, which I consider to be the band’s best moment ever.
Starting with the faint sound of a music box, the band comes in one at a time starting with a tribal drumbeat. The guitar and bass interplay is the most involved arrangement the band ever made, all the while never impeding the actual tune and melody that make the song so perfect. Reminiscent of “Atmosphere” by Joy Division but with much more direction, the song keeps surging and surging until the drums finally kick in to a 4/4 beat releasing the band into full charge. The song is the band’s perfect marriage of their unique music with Gerard’s unique and compelling vocal performances.(note)

The whole world goes to work
But nothing is produced
In the out tray lovers remain
Simply seduced
Valium is your only friend
The world’s got lots of money
But there’s none to lend
I saw you standing away from the rest

With the release of their first 7”, Flowers In The Dustbin began a spree of gigs and tours. One such gig ended in a night of debauchery with the band impossibly drunk onstage, Chas and Simon rolling around on the stage while Gerard berated the crowd of students.
Gerard, “I do remember that gig though somewhat vaguely! It was Ravensbourne Art College (where the Pistols had played one of their first gigs) and the beer was all subsidized. Being students, their organization was such that we went on about two hours later than planned, hence we were all well pissed by appearance time.”
Chas, “Yeah this really wasn’t our fault. I’d never been in a student bar before and so began drinking heavily out of dole-bred instinct, as soon as I saw the prices. But that wasn’t typical - while its fair to say that debauchery went on to play a major part in our lives, that is the only time I was too pissed to stand up at a gig and I rarely went on stage drunk - two pints before you play was my rule - the more the better after. I don’t remember any other gig where our performance was impaired by consumption except on the Fuzzbox tour at Glasgow (and every gig our keyboard player ever played.). Our gigs were rowdy and debauched but I think we always tried to avoid getting so out of it that we couldn’t perform - that wasn’t what we were in it for. In fact that was one of the reasons Gerard and I kicked out the guitarist before Simon.”

The record on Mortarhate did also lead to a few opportunities into the more above ground music industry. During this time, fans of the single at Cold Harbour Records became interested in the band, eventually “signing” them for a single and album. The band had somewhat stumbled onto yet a third different record label excited to release music by the band. Though perceived to be a more above ground type record label, Cold Harbour was in fact an independent. Whatever “big business” practices that they were accused of had more to do with them being former employees of EMI rather than any sort of parent company influence. This application of workman-like ethics of professional record labels being applied to independent labels, being a lot less common than it is today, is probably what caused speculation and reservations about the label.

Gerard, “They were loads straighter - refugees from EMI who fancied going it alone. And we were loads more desperate, subconsciously aware that it was all over soon unless we got another record out. We were supporting the Cardiacs at Croydon Underground and their manager at the time was one of the Cold Harbour people. We’d begun to lose the plot, just getting out of it to avoid the cold reality of our various failings as a band. They offered a way out and we, having lost the energy to focus on anything but the vague possibility of making a living at music, took it. I think at this point, we would have been happy to sell out to an extent, just to avoid having to get jobs. But of course, having lost the spirit, there was precious little chance of the public inventing it for us.”
Chas, “I wouldn’t put it as bad as that. Initially Cold Harbour offered us the chance to maybe make a living, and it was by then becoming harder just to live on the dole and make music. But we hadn’t got a clue as to how to get a record label to sign us - we never tried to get anyone to offer us a deal or anything (I mean we made 3 demos and then just took them home and listened to them. Naive? - We cornered the market). But this bloke from Cold Harbour liked “Nails Of The Heart” and offered at least a chance to make records, which we took because we had no idea of how to get a record deal with anyone else. I dare say that from similar beginnings successful relationships have occasionally sprung - this wasn’t such an occasion. They did get us the Fuzzbox tour [which was one of the stupidest pairings of all time] and pay for us to record an album - in our rehearsal studio on 8 track.

“Certainly we weren’t doing ourselves any favors on the consumption front at the time but I think the decline described by Gerard occurred later…”

The subsequent tour with Fuzzbox was one of the bands few apprehensive toe dips into the pool of the professional music world. But moving outside their modus operandi didn’t work well with the band. Taking a tour of the UK with popular indie band, Fuzzbox (a faux punk band featuring four girls wanting the credibility of Rubella Ballet and the mainstream success of Cyndi Lauper), the band stepped heel first into the miasma of the punk professionals.

Gerard, “The tour with Fuzzbox was our only real foray into the ‘proper’ music business and was an education I wouldn’t care to repeat - it shocked me how much emphasis there was on business rather than music.”
Chas, “Absolutely - it was great fun but by then everything was being spoilt - for me anyway - ‘cos I had started to take the idea of a career in music seriously so instead of just enjoying myself I would worry about whether the guy from Melody Maker would slag us off just because one of us pissed on him in the dressing room and whether we were playing to the right audience.
What a fuck up that tour was - they were a joke band billed as playing “a festive fun night out” - as one reviewer put it “For a festive fun night out Flowers in the Dustbin are about as appropriate as the pledge’ - exactly. Fuzzbox rehearsed the “mistakes” they would make on stage - they made the same mistake every night and had a mock row about it.
In retrospect my happiest memory is bundling into the van and driving off as a guy came out of the Astoria in London and shouted - who are you?
- Flowers in the dustbin
- well you’ll never play here again
I’m not sure, but I like to think we laughed.”
By this stage, the band was at a loss as to which way to head next. Their attempt to try and work with the mainstream took more emotional and psychological energy than was worth. At the same time, their cynicism of the anarcho punk scene was at an all time high.
Gerard, “…though I’m still in touch with people from Crass, I seem to remember spending more time disagreeing with them at the time than being inspired by them. As Chas puts it, they made it easier by virtue of us not being the only ones out there and by bringing people together. But once ‘the people’ came together, I realized I had very little in common with most of them on other, more important levels.”
This disillusionment with the crowd and their motives and reasons led to a kind of odium that only exists in certain situations between artist and audience. Not so much an artist’s hatred for an audience so much as obliviousness.
Chas, “We came across so many people who felt they had to ring up Crass for permission before they did anything and I recall just wanting to shock and upset those people as much as I had once wanted to shock and upset my parents. In retrospect we were perverse, we would never play a song just because people liked it - a song would get better and better each time and then it would peak and start to get stale and I’m sure no-one else thought so but us and then we would drop that crowd-pleaser and introduce some half baked song because it was new and we would alter the order of the set list from gig to gig so we didn’t get bored.
“If you want to go down well then play your best songs to death and work out the order which works best and stick to it.
“We didn’t care.”
Gerard, “I think, with hindsight, this was massively selfish and pretentious on our part, not to mention arrogant.”
Chas, “As I recall, we aspired to arrogance as a result of the Pistols’ influence. I think what a band really requires is a synthesis of the sort of attitude we had with an appreciation of what will make the audience happy - our problem was we completely failed to temper this approach with either reason or humility (although I seem to remember Si being the voice of reason in this direction).”
So, in the midst of these emotions of exhilaration, despair and ennui, this line-up came to an end with guitarist, Simon. He split the band without acrimony sighting other outside interests no longer avoidable, including an eventual move to the United States. The ending of this line-up in 1985 signaled the end of the first important stage of Flowers In The Dustbin; it was their rites of passage from a fun project taken seriously by a group of friends to a serious project being made by a band with a sudden infusion of longer term goals and means to those goals.

Chas, “I remember having a particularly good time most of the time between 1982 and 1985. We were doing pretty much exactly what we wanted and that’s an exhilarating thing - but the world made it hard and when you are doing the opposite of what everyone is under constant pressure to then you are bound to suffer doubts and depression. “Outlaws in the Woods” I think is the perfect celebration of what we were doing - come to think of it though I never knowingly wrote a happy lyric! Except a bit of “Vethixo Disco”, I think. Also with the whole Joy Division fetish and the hard-line Crass follower types there was enough misery in the world and I think we were consciously moving away from that - one of the best gigs I ever went to was Sex Gang Children at the Clarendon - they had no message or meaning but the music - live anyway - really had a positive feel which was something I wanted to recreate. The song “Bible Seller” is an attempt to explain what we were doing and to criticize all those people who just treated Crass lyrics like a religious tract (I keep coming back to Crass. I thought they were great but it just got to the point where people were observing the Crass commandments in a sort of holier than thou way which I don’t think had anything to do with what the band actually intended or were about).”
To replace Simon’s unique guitar style of bright open chords and harmonic picking counter parts, the band decided to fill their sound out with a new guitarist as well as the addition of keyboards in the form of Anje and Jon, respectively.
The new line-up had a cleaner sound with the keyboard (more farfisa than Hammond) adding an additional quasi-’60s element to the bands catchy sound. Eager to get back into gigging and recreate their earlier momentum, pressure was also on the band to produce material for Cold Harbour. Recording an entire album worth of material on an eight-track studio purchased for them by the label, their first (and, as it would turn out, only) release on the label came in the way of a three song 7” EP titled “Lick My Crazy Colours”.
“Lick My Crazy Colours”, while being very different from previous Flowers In The Dustbin songs, was still a victory in the evolution of the band’s sound. Driven by a trance-like rhythm, the subdued vocals lure you in over a song so odd; you can’t believe that it’s catchy. The mood is strangely ominous reminiscent of “More Trouble Every Day” by Zounds or a depressed Roxy Music. But the lyrical word play confounds the listener with bright and colorful images creating another juxtaposition so common in many of their more anthemic songs.

Think there’s something that you forgot
When you gave in so willingly
Will you like my crazy colours
Cos I’d die for you…
Is there any tea in the pot?
Is there some left in it for me?
I’m the madman that you forgot
Is there any pot in the tea?
Will you lick my crazy colours
I’ll lick your wounds bay-bee

The b-sides were old (“Stranger In A Strange Land”) and new (“The Continuing tragedy Of Mr. Smith”). “Stranger In A Strange Land” was a left over track from when Simon was still in the band. A different version then the one that appeared on “All The Best People…” this more understated version still mixes well with the newer, cleaner sound of the record though certainly left no room for any doubt that the band were still as defiant as ever in terms of content.

Another facet of my twisted personality
Explodes the screen of a TV imposed reality, like
An angry bitter man once walked ‘round Beverly Hills
A cathode ray messiah with a disciple desire to kill
Chop chop went the axe of Lizzie Borden
Put theory into practice of all her parents taught her
Tortured souls walking up the aisle of death
Sucking eagerly at every TV breath

Gerard, “I’d read and enjoyed the book… if I remember correctly I might have been led to it by an interest in the Manson family. But song-wise, I just thought the title was good (though I believe it was later used by Iron Maiden, aaargh!). I personally have no interest whatsoever in Sci-Fi / Fantasy - give me the real world any day.”
Chas, “Yeah everyone I knew had a vague interest in Manson at the time and I’m sure that’s why Gerard read it ‘cos I did too and I never read Sci-fi and don’t have any interest in it. Funny how the biggest fuck ups can seem interesting.”

Unfortunately, as if to reinforce the band’s already existing Promethean complex, the label went under before releasing the album. Despite the labels professional façade, there was still enough incompetence to ruin any record label viewed as a financial venture. Worst of all, the band’s master tapes may have been destroyed in the untimely end of the label’s facilities.
Chas, ““There were two bands on the label and the singer of the other band was fucking the boss. The other guy - the one who liked our music - was an unbelievable balls up - he was late for everything, so, for a joke, a friend got him a clock that went backwards - but being a fuckwit, he put it on his office wall and then he’d turn up even later for things and go “that bloody clock”. He arranged for us to make a video for our single and convinced us that we should film it up at an aircraft hanger where advertising airships live that fly over London - we were supposed to play in front while the doors opened (the fact we agreed to this suggests Gerard’s analysis is right) but it took longer for the doors to open than for us to play the song, and anyway the finished video (which was crap) arrived at the record company about six months after we released the single.

“I’d call them cowboys but they didn’t have the competence. In the end they went bust and the office burnt down in a dubious way (actually that’s probably what happened to the LP master tapes - they were on a video cassette for some reason).”
Though sold through the band’s mailing list on cassette, the record has still never properly seen the light of day.
By the end of 1986, the band was all but gone. The collapse of their record label may have been a contributing factor. But the band was in a helpless state of disrepair at that point regardless.

Gerard, “We split up because we were all drinking too much, smoking too much dope and had lost any semblance of the original vision that made us any good. Which caused the internal pressures and is a surefire sign the band had run its course. We all went on to other things, but not really musical. I’m a writer and web designer in London, Simon’s a barrister in London, Chas teaches British history in the States and Bill is a lorry driver in Majorca.”
Chas, “Yeah Gerard’s answer is about right - It’s a shame because we were really good for a while, and despite what G says I think we were actually a pretty good band for about 4 months when we came off the Fuzzbox tour, we still had some good songs and could play well both individually and as a unit but by then other things were a problem. By that time Si was out of the band and we never really appreciated how having four friends who are in a band is much much better than trying to recruit people to fit in to your band. We didn’t all like the same thing or see things the same way and that was why it was quite interesting when we got together. In retrospect we should have tried harder to keep that. Then there was the fact that it’s a good job we never made any money as it’s only a question of who would have died first - enough said. As it was I don’t think any of us was in a particularly good way by the end of the band - I know I wasn’t.

“Finally - we lost because living out your dreams is pretty difficult to achieve - once we started thinking we could make a living out of music and that was the way to escape from the world, we just got sucked into worrying about whether you’ve won enough fans over and said the right thing and pleased the press from Belgium etc and then you might as well be working in a bank.
“I was in another band after Flowers which made some great demos I think but never got anywhere and I got more directly involved with politics working for a group that took up cases of people fitted up by the police. Now I’m a lecturer. The system, as they say, sucks you in, but it can be a vampire or a cocksucker depending on how you play it and as blowjobs go this one’s pretty good.”
Gerard, “Reflections? Both immense pride and serious cringing. Was it all too naive? Yes, but in a beautiful way. Am I happy with what the band did? I’m happy with some of the beautiful songs, but I’m not happy we sold our souls for a few crates of beer in the end. More than anything, I feel I did more with my youth than a lot of people, and the spirit is once more untouched.”
Chas, “Yeah pride and cringing - but enough of the former to be prepared to answer for the latter. Its funny how at the time we thought the threat to the ideals we started off with was Thatcher’s new Britain. restart etc etc and it turned out the threat was really our own freedom to be so lazy sometimes, but then isn’t that always what old people think - we enjoyed our youth and now we find the memories of the debauchery are worth little and think if only we’d worked harder we’d have more worthwhile memories of more concrete achievements - maybe.

“Since I gave up being in a band my life has improved hugely but I still regret the fact that I gave up. When I was 17, I left school to be in a band and I am absolutely satisfied that I did the right thing and all those people who never just do what they really want to do might as well kill themselves now and leave more air for the rest of us.”
Gerard, “ (on the old anarcho punk scene) I wonder if what was essentially a storm in a teacup isn’t a bit exaggerated these days, particularly in the States. I never considered us an anarcho-band, the whole scene was too… well, uniform and not anarchist. We were a bunch of anarchists in a band who hopefully had a bit more strength of character and individuality than to need to fall-in with the strictures of the time and place. That said, I didn’t feel particularly alienated from it because I never really wanted in.”
Chas, “I don’t know about “anarcho scene”. I’m glad that I grew up at a time in a city when you could go out most days a week and go and see a band and meet people and that you could wear whatever you liked be whoever you were and there was a place to go and there was a network of squatted venues and cafes and homes. Today people dress in uniforms again and conform too much and worry about what job they’ll get when they leave college. I remember walking down the street and people would stare at me and they probably thought I looked ridiculous but I didn’t give a shit. In those days you could just sign on for a bit and do something worthwhile, while the people who liked working and having money got on with it - and the world was a better place for it. I’m also glad that beneath the social fun of it there was a political undercurrent however naive and unrealistic it might have been, that encouraged people to question the assumptions and defy the conventions.”

Gerard, “I might add that personally I feel the greatest contribution the whole anarcho scene made, as well as the most successful, is the impetus it gave to the animal liberation movement, which is certainly one thing I personally feel the same about now as I did then. We only referred to it once lyrically, on Nails Of The Heart - ‘killing animals but not taking the blame’, but as I’ve said, we were more militant outside of the band than in it. We weren’t naive enough to think that songs were going to change the world; though I think close examination of our words makes it obvious where we stand. Our ‘trouble’ was that we weren’t interested in shouting ‘fuck the system’ just so our egos could be swelled by loads of blokes waving drunken clenched fists above their regulation mohicans.”
“And I’m proud of that.”

Chas, “…’regulation mohicans’ I knew that phrase would have to come in somewhere…

“As for the band though, the anarcho scene was somewhere where we could play but it had little influence on what we played. Did the word anarchy ever come up in one of our songs? “Vethixo Disco” maybe. We had only one song about war and hardly ever played that and anyway it was hardly typical. It seems to me that a lot of that scene consisted of people in little provincial towns listening to Crass in their bedrooms and producing fanzines about bands they had never seen and seeing bands that rarely played outside their towns. And for those people there was a scene and in some respects it was fairly uniform, but in London there was no real absolute division between anarcho bands and other bands - same with audience. I dare say in other larger cities the same was true. All of that is just an impression. I felt alienated from the anarchist scene in the sense that I had no desire to belong to anything at first and later I suppose I identified myself as a squatter and felt part of that scene (all downhill from there really its better not to belong), but although I would have called myself an anarchist I wasn’t interested in joining an anarchist group.

“If there was an anarchist scene then out of that scene came a lot of the influence for environmental groups etc and real political work, not all of which I would sympathize with but there was something to it. A lot us - including Flowers In The Dustbin - could be called middle class drop outs - but so what - you’re middle class, you have a choice: rebel or conform.”

After six years of working and struggling, the band finally called it quits leaving behind a mystery of untapped potential (not to mention an albums worth of vanished material) while many of the three chord thrash bands that they posed an alternative to went on to become massively successful. Not that the irony is lost on the ex-members of Flowers In The Dustbin. When reflecting on the end of the band and the scene they struggled in, time doesn’t heal all wounds and visions of the past seem to be more appropriate in scrapbooks than in history books. Of course, the difference is subjective.
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