WAH! KING
Back to happiness with Pete Wylie

Terry Hermon and Robin Wills swill ale with the original scally wag.

LIGHT THE BLUE TOUCH PAPER AND STAND BACK... PETE WYLIE, the 'heart and soul of Rock'n'Roll' is about to start talking! And boy can he talk. But though most of Wylie's subject matter is Wylie, he never descends into pop star cliche. He is perpetually enthusiastic, amusing - no scrap amusing, he's downright funny - passionate and charming. In fact if it wasn't for Wylie's loathing of The Smiths, This Charming Man would've been a good title for this piece.

I met Pete in a pub in London's Charlotte Street. We found a spot in the cellar bar and when, a few minutes later, Robin Wills turned up I pushed the tape machine's record button. There began one of the most entertaining evenings I've had in a long time. Over the next three hours (the tape ran out after one!) we heard about Wylie's first gig, his first meeting with a pvc-clad Pete Burns, an encounter with Flamin' Groovie Cyril Jordan, Johnny Thunders' limp handshake, John Lennon throwing-up on Keith Richard's carpet, Wylie asking Mike Tyson for a fight and, believe it or not, much much more.

We start talking about pop stars with wigs, don't ask me why. (Though Pete had just finished telling us about how his favourite record shop in Liverpool, Probe, had had its counter painted by Cyril Jordan.) Pete gets on to Arthur Lee, "At the Liverpool gig he couldn't talk between songs and at one point he goes, 'Okay the next song's called er Between Clark And Hillda... it's called Between Hill And Clarkda... Okay let's just play the song!' And when the song starts 'It's fuckin' fantastic. Apparently in the dressing room Arthur was more of a nightmare than on stage, because he was coming on to the band's girlfriends and they'd turn their backs and he'd be going into their pockets looking for stuff y'know. But they were all going 'Wow Arthur Lee just robbed me drugs!"'

Wylie's waiting for a call to confirm his tickets for the Liverpool v Man City game, and says he wants to programme his mobile phone to play Witchita Linemen/Starman, "Doot doot, doot doot, da da da". We start talking football. Pete says he used to watch QPR with Mick Jones, and Robin, complaining about the cost of seeing Chelsea, says he might start supporting Barnet because it would be cheaper, to which Pete responds, "Alright, you moan. On the last Liverpool home game of last season we sang, or mimed, Heart As Big As Liverpool on the pitch before the kick-off, and we still had to buy tickets for the game!"

Wylie's homage to his home town is regularly played at Anfield as the second to last song before the Reds come out - the last, of course, being You'll Never Walk Alone. "There was a thing in the Liverpool Echo by the main Liverpool writer, Chris Bassett, saying 'We've got two songs, we've got You'll Never Walk Alone and we've got Heart As Big As Liverpool the new classic for the new millennium'. FANTASTIC! And sitting there at Anfield when they're playing it is unbelievable, it really is."

Things were going swimmingly and we were on our second round of beers, so I thought it was time to ask about the last album - the totally brilliant Songs Of Strength And Heartbreak - and how come it was recorded for Sony but shelved?

"The absolute truth is, I just don't know. It came as a total, total shock I was in the middle of my second promo tour, starting eight in the morning, sometimes seven for breakfast shows, till midnight - and I love it, I love talkin'about what I do - I love talkin'about anything! The last thing I did was the Phil Jupitus Show on GLR as it was. It went great, everybody loved it. Afterwards, six o'clock went for a drink then went back to the hotel and my manager comes over and says 'l gotta have a word with you, Sony have pulled the plug', and I thought he meant on the promo tour, but it turned out he meant the whole thing. Even now I find it hard to believe. There are some obvious things that went on, like I was arrested for making threatening phone calls, which I can't talk about in any detail until next February. And companies that are spending a lot of money don't like anything dodgy. Except lan Brown was arrested the same week as me and that was the biggest career boost he'd had for ages! And the other obvious example is Shaun Ryder. Me, I don't have a criminal record and have never done a violent thing in my life except shout at Clash songs!

"So that was one aspect. And twenty years in the music business tells you that if they spent X amount of money, they know they've got to spend that amount again In marketing and whatever it was March, like the end of the tax year and all that, and I think there was a bit of a 'Fuckin' hell, we've spent like nearly a million or whatever and we're gonna have to spend that again!'

"Going back a bit, one of the first things the guy that signed me told the bosses at Sony was that this album would sell twenty million - I mean, fuck it's great to have so much belief, but like Mariah Carey would sell six million and Celine Dion would sell eight, and I'm gonna sell twenty million!? It's all very well to stick your neck out and exaggerate, but to say it in a board meeting to the head of Sony International? well you just can't bullshit it And I think they finally realised that I wasn't a group of four with two girls and two boys that did their own dances - I do actually do me own dances, that's probably the fuckin' problem! But to this day no one has ever told me what really happened."

So having been all around the country promoting his newly recorded, but unreleased album, Wylie found himself dropped by Sony. He returned for a meeting at the company's London office where he well and truly sealed his fate.

"There was a point when Dave Balfe (the Sony exec that signed Wylie) told me I was too emotional, and that's why I would never be successful. And I said, 'Dave, you're a cunt' - but less mild than that I walked out of the meeting with the whole room looking like some American sitcom [pulls faces, jaw dropping to the table].

Then I walked back in again and said, 'And I'll tell you why yer a cunt. I am too fucking passionate and too emotional, and that's why you'll never write a fucking song like I can!' And I walked out again. I walked off into Soho with me mobile phone, waiting for a call from me manager or me mate or somebody but nobody called. And then I realised I'd left me fuckin' luggage, me bag and everything on the sixth floor of Sony's office and I had to go back for them!"

But, as Pete explains, he did manage to retain the rights to his unreleased album, "And at a very reasonable price. I'd like to think there was a degree of guilt on the part of Sony, but I don't think they really work like that, I just think they really didn't give a fuck. They'd written it off and just thought 'fuck it'."

WHERE MOST 80'S BANDS WHO WERE EVEN REMOTELY successful have had everything they ever put their name to reissued on CD with any number of dodgy bonus tracks, Wylie's back catalogue has simply gathered dust. "For the past ten years, since I broke me back, most of my stuff has been unavailable. I became a ghost, a ghost in the machine. Where other people had CDs out - y'know, you might not go to buy a Teardrop's album or a Barracudas record but they're there in the racks. When you're looking through things you see them, you're aware they exist. I had nothing out for ten years!"

Things are in some ways being put to rights with the release of the wonderfully named 2-CD compilation, The Handy Wah! Whole - subtitled Songs From The Repertwah! It contains all of Wylie's singles from 1979's Better Scream to Heart As Big As Liverpool from his current album. More archive releases are planned which, according to Pete, will contain "Rare stuff, secret bits and stuff even have never heard!".

We move on to talk about Pete's musical style. He starts by stating, "I think consistency is one of the most overrated things in the world", and then at a tangent goes on, "You could say I do things that sound comparatively er... traditional, well personally I don't think Phil Spector is traditional. I don't think what I do is traditional in terms of sound. It's got more in common with Eno, using sound as a fuckin 'weapon, y'know what I mean, rather than just being a collection of notes that go together."

When asked about his new album's harrowingly titled opening track, Never Loved As A Child, Wylie's instant reply is, "My daughter sings it and me mother hates it - but she does think it should be a single". He goes on to explain that while he may have some issues with his childhood the song is not autobiographical, but came about when he and lan McNabb had a run in with a particularly obnoxious journalist. "He said something awful to McNabb and I just looked at him and said 'Never loved as a child'. So it was just a kind of flip thing, but then it became ... in the same way when I was interviewed by The Guardian recently, they said 'Is there any lesson life has taught you?' and I said 'It's okay to be gay'. And I've had people ringing up, the press ringing up, ex-girlfriends ringing up! asking 'Are ya gay? 'So I do have a habit of just saying these things!"

Another beer, another subject. "When punk rock happened it was the first time in me life when I felt that if I was a freak, at least I wasn't the only freak. Before then there were those rock'n'roll moments. Like Bowie on Top Of The Pops" (I suggest Bowie and Ronson on Lift Off With Ayshea.) "Oh yes! Yes that was the one. I loved Ayshea by the way, and she loved me!". Robin mentions Mott The Hoople and Pete enthuses, "I loved Mott. You know what, after the fade on The Return Of Rock And Roll (from his latest album) there's something that's not on the record. I took it out partly because it was too crass... it goes, 'the return of rock'n'roll, the return of rock'n'roll, hats off to lan Hunter from one adoring punter'. One of the worst rhymes of me fuckin' life!"

IT TAKES JUST A WORD, OR IN SOME CASES (I'D SWEAR) JUST A thought, to set Wylie talking. Though this is not just chat - Wylie is a man who has beliefs rather than opinions - there's passion, excitement and great dollops of humour in everything he says. At points our conversation seems to resemble the cut-up technique used by David Bowie, where unrelated words or sentences are thrown together to form a song (if not always perfect sense). Something like this... "We were an angry guitar band, but I became disillusioned, I went to a Fall gig. I used to go to gigs all the time, by these bands that are touted and I'd think 'Is this all you do? Is this the best you can do?' I did it again last night watching telly, it was someone I'd been reading about, Badly Drawn Boy, and I thought, 'Is that it?' Mind, I also read interviews with Secret Affair and thought they were going to be the greatest band in the world until I heard them. Their manifesto was great, and I love a band with a good manifesto!

"But it happened to us with Story Of The Blues. We'd come from a certain route and I wasn't listening to loads of different music, but when I heard Scott Walker and Motown and Phil Spector I started connecting with something, 'It was like family, long-lost family, a family reunion. And then I'd go and discover more about Dylan and I'd realise that there are things... this is one of the things I hate when I read things written by people who know the last three years and that's all. They see Suede as the most important band, which... y'know I'm not knocking Suede, but... I do have these secret soft spots, in my stuff you can occasionally hear Herman's Hermits. It's okay to take something to make something else of it - to become the defining version of it. Y'know, lan Hunter took Dylan, but I never think of Dylan when I hear All The Way From Memphis, I think of lan Hunter [Swig of beer - mental leap!] I like the first Suede album, but it's the aftermath... He's pot-bellied, Brett Anderson, potbellied and dull!"

A Japanese tourist who appears to have peed down the front of his slacks causes a brief moment of 'nudge-nudge' hilarity before we move sideways to talk about Bowie, and Wylie's photographic memory becomes evident. "Bowie in '72, December the 28th '72. He did these gigs at Manchester Hard Rock, which is now a B&Q. I have a million great facts about the gig. I've still got my ticket. There were £1 standing tickets and £1.25 seated, but there was a barrier from the middle of the stage back through the audience, so it wasn't like standing was at the front... it was a side-by-side thing, just bizarre! So half the audience are jumping about screaming 'David! David!' and the other half were sitting there going 'Mmm, I believe he is quite triumphant'. And he did this thing where he ripped off his shirt and said 'And now I'd like to introduce you to the Jean Genie' - stunning!"

At this point Robin confesses that his first ever gig was Gary Glitter 'In 1972 in Geneva, Pete chips in, "My first gig was Black Sabbath in 1971, supported by Wild Turkey - David Bowie was supported by Stealers Wheel."

YOU'VE ALWAYS COME IN FOR A LOT OF STICK FROM THE PRESS. "One of the things that worked against me was that when I came down to London I behaved exactly like I did in Liverpool. Which was crazy and enthusiastic, and I'd also been trained on punk where the idea was you'd go to meet the band, and they'd come to meet you. So I came to London and I'd go off to meet the bands and next thing you know the press start calling me Ligger of the Year. I was out every fuckin' night, coz if there was a band on who were worth seeing, or even if they weren't; there were lots of terrible gigs, but you can't always just choose great bands."

We talk about the good, the bad and the ugly of punk rock and the name of Johnny Thunders comes up. "I saw Thunders supported by Cherry Vanilla, who was supported by The Police, who were then her backing band. Thunders was fantastic. Absolutely the purest guitar you've ever heard. Second time I saw him, he had a recording of the Nuremberg Rally as his intro tape! And it was like, 'What the fuck!' Thunders came on, played for about thirteen minutes, got fucked off and went away. It was the shortest gig I ever went to, and I love it forever for that and for Thunders being such an outright arsehole. I met him in Liverpool at Eric's in '77.I was at the bar with Tony James. Johnny came along and Tony introduced us. We shook hands and it was the limpest, nastiest handshake I've ever known and he just sort of looked right through me. It was like I'm shakin' hands but I'm not even there. The second time I met him was in The Limelight. Someone touched me on the arm and said, 'Have yer gert da tyme'. I looked around and it was Thunders, and I said 'Hey, you're Johnny Thunders', and he went 'Yeah have yer gert da fuckin' tyme!' That was him, but when he had those leather jeans on and t-shirt and that Les Paul junior - stunning. He played two solos and the whole of his career was based on those two solos. I recorded his Can't Put Your Arms Around A Memory and loads of people love it - maybe because it's the shortest song we ever fuckin' did!"

Pete is seriously proud to be a fan and most proud that many of his heroes - most notably Mick Jones - have become his friends. Robin mentions that The Barracudas supported the Clash. Cue Pete, I was them! I can remember what I was wearing. I can tell you exactly what I had on. I had white jeans, like Mick Jones. Pink shirt, like Mick Jones. I had me hair like Mick ]ones. And I was like Mick ]ones y'know!

I used to hang out with Alan Vega, who was one of my heroes, 'cause I love the first Suicide album, it was just psychotic, but he was also one of the smelliest pop stars I've ever met!

"I went to New York in '87. And New York, for any fan of music is a fuckin' thrill. I lived there for a while and I met Keith Richard. I spent thirty-six hours with him, Which is the best thing that can ever happen to you. I've still got his cigarette packet! And so many stories about that night He was a beautiful, beautiful man. He asked where I was from, and when I said Liverpool he said, 'Aah, Liverpool. Hearing your voice reminds me of when John and Yoko came round the house'. He told me how, worse for drink and drugs, Lennon had thrown up on his £8,000 carpet.

I was in this club that used to be the Ritz. A bottle of tequila had been consumed and I'd already insulted Matt Dillon. There were all these plush velvet booths and in one of them I saw Mike Tyson. And I Loved Mike Tyson - fabulous boxer. So I went over to him and, thinking I was being funny, said 'l'm from Liverpool, do you wanna fight?' And Tyson, in this weedy little voice said, 'I think this man's inebriated'. Next thing you know these two bouncers have grabbed me and slung me out on to the street. It made the papers the next day - 'Tourist Attacks Mike Tyson '.

Beeeep. The tape runs out. Surely time for another beer.

The final word from Pete, "Three pints and I feel pissed. Five pints and I feel fuckin' normal. I'm wise and me memory is like pin sharp."

Bucketfull of Brains No. 57.