Title: Errrp bleurggh, burp, burp, burp..!
Author: Nancy Culp
Source: Record Mirror
ERRRP BLEURGGH, BURP, BURP, BURP..!
Roughly translated that is an interview with the ‘Three Lads’. The musical muscle in FRANKIE GOES TO HOLLYWOOD don’t want to talk about their new single, their new album or how much money they’ve got. They just want to burp into the rm microphone. Does this make them rock ‘n’ roll rebels or one giant pain in the neck? Table manners: Nancy Culp
So there I was, sat in a Chinese restaurant in Kensington, with all hell breaking loose in the form of the three lads from Frankie…
Ped: ‘Ear that? Three lads! ‘All of Fame!
Yes anyway, as I was saying, there I was with the three lads attempting to conduct an Interview…
Ped: Errrrp bleurgherrp!
Yes, thank you Ped. Nothing but four letter words and unbelievably ear-splitting belches recorded for posterity.
Mark: Ask a decent question!
Ped: Errgh. Erp. Errgh!
As you will no doubt gather, a new Frankle Goes To Hollywood single called ‘Rage Hard’ is about to split the airwaves. It is the first from the band in over a year and the reason for this debacle. There’re a thousand and one questions you could ask, and unfortunately, because I’m quite a long way down the interview schedule, they’ve already been asked them and are getting fed up with ‘Did you want to get rid of Holly?’, ‘Have you all fallen out?’, ‘Are you all millionaires’, ‘What’s the new album like’ type questions.
They’re also most definitely not into doing interviews, and on the way to the restaurant, Mark and Ped disappear for what seems like forever into a computer hardware shop. Ped, you see, has a new computer and seems far more interested in his new programme and the whole Peking duck he manages to scoff along with Mark, than settling down to some serious conversation. Oh that and shit, of course.
Nasher is the quieter of the three and I have the suspicion that had I interviewed the old dears separately, I might have got more sense out of them. But as it was, they got stuck into the shit groove and every question I asked was greeted in the same manner.
Let’s talk about the new album…
P: We’re shit. Everyone is shit.
Why are you in the business, then?
M: ‘Cos we’re shit.
N: Copraphilia is in for ’86…
I was going to say, you’ve got an unnatural fascination with what comes out of your backsides.
P: Worrabout piss? Snot? Puke…
Um lads, the new album?
P: It’s shit!
M: It’s like ‘Breaking Glass’.
P: And worrisit?
M: It’s shit.
P: The 12 inch?? (All together) Shit! The single’s shit. Every track is shit. The cover’s shit. Everyone who worked on it is a shithead… it should do well!
I’m not getting very far with you lot, am I?
M: It’s ‘cos you’re shit…
Gee thanks, fellas. I’ll sleep easier tonight knowing that. So do I qualify for a shit in the handbag, then? (Legend has it, that one poor lass managed to so upset the lads that they defecated in her handbag when she left the room for five minutes.)
P: Who knows? The shit’ll know. That’s because she was being really ‘orrible…
M: Ask a decent question!
What’s a decent question, Mark?
M: I doan no. I’m not the interviewer.
But you seem to be interrogating me…
M: I’m not interrogating anybody. I’m just askin’ you a question. The interview with a difference, that’s all.
N: Har! Har!
M: Aren’t ya gonna ask us like, what colour socks we wear then or anyt’in’ like that?
Erm, how about the new album? I’d say you were getting more into the rocky side of stuff.
P: Nah, we’re not into this ‘the new album’s a bit ‘eavier than the last one’. Everyone says that…
N: We ‘ate Led Zeppelin as well, ‘cos everybody else likes ‘em. Like the Cult got ‘Led Zeppelin 3’ and went weird, didn’t they? We’re about fookin’ 10 light years a’ead of everyone.
M: Behind ya.
P: Well, yous saying, yeah, the new album’s a bit ‘eavier than the last one and we’re dead weirdo and it’s Zeppelin and we’re dead ‘eavy. Bollocks ‘n’ all that.
M: We’re into Venoml
N: Trash metal. It’s the only thing. It’s Venom and Metallica and if it’s under 150 beats a minute, we’re not interested!
By this time, the meal has arrived and, while I gamely ride out the anti-vegetarian taunts and forgo my usual gallon of Pernod for pints of lager, I’m wondering why on earth they bothered turning up. OK, lads, why do you bother giving interviews if you don’t like doing them?
M: Why do we bother? ‘Cos it’s a laugh.
Hmm, not for me.
P: We ‘ave to or we wouldn’t get our views across on life.
OK then, what’re your views on…
P: You just fookin’ ask us…
Thatcher’s South African policies?
M: It’s shit.
N: She’s a shit.
Oh dear, this really isn’t getting the baby bathed, is it? You’re not very fond of the press, are you?
P: No one’s arsed.
M: Occupational hazard, innit?
Well, you got yourselves into the job in the first place…
P: We do it, we’re not complainin’. You’re the one who’s saying that. We couldn’t be arsed and we’ve only just gorrup, but we’ll be alright in a minute.
N: Well, people try and handle yer with kid gloves, don’t they?
M: No, they’ve never tried to handle us with kid gloves and stuff like that. Interviews ‘n’ all that, it’s just a laugh. It’s not like, er, I couldn’t take an interview seriously like fookin’ Mick Jagger does.
P: Oh yeah, like, the new album and yeah, we’re doing this and we’re doing that and really be serious about it. Then, when you go out the door, all you’re gonna do is shout ‘Bollocks! I’d shag ‘er! Shag that! Yeah! Give us a bevvy!’ It’s puttin’ a big false thing on…
Yes, but don’t you think that by acting like this you’re reinforcing the myth that you’re three brainless louts? (I’ve just come back from the ladies, expecting, at the very least a sock in my prawn with ginger in black bean sauce, and find instead that they’ve just spent five minutes burping and saying ‘shit’ into the tape recorder.)
P: (Indignant) We’re not!
N: Don’t you think it’s to everyone’s advantage that they think we’re complete dick’eads that can be manipulated by everybody?
M: Eat shit!
N: If people think you’re really clever ‘n’ intelligent, they treat you really clever ‘n’ intelligent and expect you to do clever, intelligent things, so you can’t get away with fookin’ merder, then, can ya?
M: Is that what you think we are? Three louts?
P: Brainless dick’eads? If that’s what you’re thinkin’, then that’s what we are.
Time to completely change the subject. I turn off the tape for a bit but Mark grabs it and turns it back on. Time too, for the obvious question. Having just interviewed Pete Wylie on the subject, I think we ought to hear your side of the story chaps. Nasher, is it true that your dad came up to Wylie at your wedding and said, ‘Get my son away from those two…’
M: You’re after the big scoop ‘ere, aren’t ya?
N: I wanted to ask Demis Roussos but he wasn’t there.
M: I think he’s pluggin’ for a job or sunnint, you auld fella!
N: On vocals, wrinkly ‘ead!
There’s no smoke without fire…
N: Is that what you think about ‘Olly ‘n’ all that?
P: Yeah, but in ‘Olly’s situation we used them firelighters and they’re smokeless!
N: The way that that started, was because he never got on the same plane as us at Montreux, just because he didn’t wanna stay in-the ‘otel overnight because he doesn’t sit in bars, bevvying, that’s why.
P: And we don’t go to bed early, so why didn’t anyone think we’re leavin’ ‘im? But it’s up to ‘im what he does. No one complains if he wants to go to bed.
And that’s how it started?
P: Yeah, and everyone though, ‘Ey, that’s a bit weird. ‘Ow come they’re lying on the floor, face down over there pissed and ‘e’s in bed?’ Why does everyone give ‘im stick fer that?
N: Just because he never arrived with us and left with us.
The question eventually gets asked that I thought sooner or later was going to be broached, and it’s the one that every interviewer dreads - the moment when a band ask what you think of them.
P: Do you like us? Musically, that is?
No, but I like ‘Rage Hard’ because it’s got a bit of a tune and a bit of dynamic to it.
M: So you think we’re shit?
I didn’t say that.
M: I will, we’re shit.
So why are you still in the band?
M: ‘Cos I don’t wanna leave, ‘cos everything else is shit.
N: Go and join the Smiths, eh?
M: Now that’ll be SHIT. The thing is that they’re so trendy they won’t take any money for selling records.
I’m sure you’ll find that they want their money like everyone else.
P: So why does everyone give us stick for having money? ‘Cos you earn yer money why does everyone think ‘Oh you’re millionaires?’ We’ve earnt our fookin’ crust for doing this.
N: For what we’ve got, which is the unknown quantity, we’ve earnt it.
P: So we don’t deserve what we get?
I didn’t say that.
P: It’s just a joke. It’s not our fault if they pay us so much, is it? We’re not gonna say no. So, if someone offered you 100 grand, you’re gonna say, ‘no’ ‘cos I don’t think I’ve earnt it? You wouldn’t say no. You’d fookin’ grab it straight away. Obviously, that’s what anyone does. Then everyone gives you stick ‘cos someone’s given you a grand for makin’ records or whatever.
N: The thing is, that nobody knows what we’ve earnt so ‘ow can they say whether we deserve it or not? They’ve got these ideas in their ‘eads that o we’ve got loads of fookin’ money, so if they think we don’t deserve it.
P: We’ve earned more than we’ve ever earnt in our lives for doing like, not a nine to five job but it’s sort of more of a brain-wracking thing than it is physical. But everyone thinks, ‘Oh yeah, they were on ‘TOTP’ and now they’ve got loads of fookin’ money, so they don’t deserve it’ and they’re all jealous!
N: We’ve done a lot more than any other new band ever did. Didn’t we? We sold more records than any other band that’d just come up from nowhere. So we do deserve it.
P: You should be thankful ‘cos there would’ve been nuttin’ in 1984… therefore you’s’d been out of a job. 1984, there wasn’t much goin’ down and when we came in, although we were really ‘eavy when we first did it, like, at least we fookin’ made it a bit more lively.
M: ‘Ey, you’re getting’ a bit talkative now lads! Shit!
P: But really it was a load of shit! And now we’re back to where we were in the first place!
Hmm, maybe in more ways than one. Thankfully, a very big train up to Manchester beckons and the interview is truncated, leaving Ped to ruminate on his new (but second hand) Ferrari, Mark on when he’ll pass his driving test (he managed to smash a hire car up the first time he went out driving) and Nasher? Well, who knows. Who knows too, what the fate of the Frankies will be - although the single is certainly destined for a top 10 position, at least. Anything more to say lads, before I switch off?
All to get her: ERRRP BLEURGHERRRRRRRRRP!!!