Strangelove
Patrick Duff - Vocals
Alex Lee - Guitar
Julian Pransky-Poole - Guitar
Joe Allen - Bass
Nick Powell - Keyboards
John Langley - Drums
Websites:
Here's the stuff I found at:
http://www.rock-the-world.com/Strangelove.html
Source:
Strangelove
site on
SuedeNation
" In late 1991 I jumped on stage with my band Strangelove at the Camden Underworld for our first ever performance. I had taken amphetamines and drunk some vodka in an attempt to deal with my nerves - it was my first drink after a year of sobriety in which I'd concentrated on writing music. Before this, I'd experienced problems with drink and had been sent for treatment at a centre dealing with alcohol and drug problems. I completed three weeks before walking out, convinced that my interest in music would keep me sober and fill the gap alcohol had left. Throughout my subsequent year of sobriety, I became more and more withdrawn, isolated and alienated from other people. I had no idea why this was, and remained completely unaware that the problems of an alcoholic / addict don't end with putting down the drug of your choice.
For a while I only used alcohol or drugs when I had to perform. We were signed to Food records and EMI publishing - a dream come true. But I found meetings difficult. If I didn't drink, I couldn't say anything and I'd go away feeling frustrated and angry with myself. In the studio I was also experiencing problems. I had strong ideas about how the songs should feel, but found this impossible to explain. I couldn't contribute as much as I would have liked - but instead of attempting to learn ways around this, I internalised it and went off on a roller coaster of self pity, resentment, anger and drink.
Interviews with the music press were a nightmare. My work is very personal and I found it near impossible to discuss it with anyone, let alone with journalists. I felt I had to try, so I came up with a plan to overcome my lack of confidence: I experimented with varying doses of alcohol, speed and valium in order to produce a state where I could become lucid about my work. I literally fell asleep half-way through an interview with the NME (thank God it was never published), so the next time, with Melody Maker, I took so much amphetamine I couldn't speak at all for about 20 minutes and when I did, it was vaguely suicidal and extremely confused to say the least. After many failed attempts, I eventually tried a Melody Maker interview straight - all I can remember was that I sat there shaking.
My work is very personal and I found it near impossible to discuss it with anyone, let alone with journalists...In Britain, how you come across in the press is ridiculously important to your chances of success, and even though we had received a lot of support, I couldn't help but think when I read my interviews that I was somewhat inadequate; I seemed unable to communicate what my songs really meant. Also, I would take the slightest criticism in the press as proof of this.
In Britain, how you come across in the press is ridiculously important to your chances of success, and even though we had received a lot of support, I couldn't help but think when I read my interviews that I was somewhat inadequate; I seemed unable to communicate what my songs really meant. Also, I would take the slightest criticism in the press as proof of this. I would be deeply hurt and throw myself into drug and alcohol binges.
Other bands who were doing well all seemed to have singers with a very different personality than my own. Or was it that they could feign that they were cocky, self-confident and content in a shallow sort of a way without a glimmer of self-doubt? I knew our songs were genuinely different and genuinely good, but I couldn't just seem to strut around like a walking advertising board for them - it seemed crass.
I stopped reading any music papers and told my manager I couldn't do interviews. My self-esteem was plummeting now due to drinking. I felt more and more inadequate and needed a drink just to be on my own. I was drinking every waking hour and taking amphetamines to keep me sober enough to function. I had become consumed with the fear of failure and carried around a feeling of impending doom that rarely left me.
Somehow I had got it into my head that my inability to operate in this music press-type world would lead to our failure and our ability to release records would ultimately be taken away from us.
I did, however, feel a sense of achievement at the live performances. Here was a sense of freedom and a chance to sing the words I'd written. It was a real release and, for a while, the one thing that got me through. I am eternally grateful to the people who turned up and gave me the chance to do this. But I was beginning to lose control.
I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. My personal life was now in tatters - and I decided my last chance was to throw what was left of me into our album. Something was left in me that wanted to do something positive. Thank God. To work on songs, I would force myself to straighten out, I'd take valium for a few days and shake and sweat and vomit my way into a sort of sobriety. I would reduce the valium, eventually facing the terror of being straight, and wait until I could write. I'd work until I was satisfied with what I'd done, then reward myself by sinking back down into self-destruction.
This process happened on every one of the songs on the album. However, with the support and genius of the rest of my band and producer Paul Corkett, I was involved in creating a brilliant album, Love And Other Demons, which I am immensely proud of. Shortly afterwards I was booked into a rehabilitation clinic.
This, I am sure, has undoubtedly saved my life. I no longer fear failure but truly believe we can and will take Strangelove anywhere we want now. Although I still have bad days and still experience fear, depression and self-doubt I deal with it differently now. Thank God."
by Patrick Duff of Strangelove for The Guardian
7/6/96
STRANGELOVE
London King's Cross Water Rats
NME 19/7/97
"Once upon a time, Strangelove were a disaster, Thier first two albums may have beendamaged masterpieces teetering on the brink of brilliance, but they were too mired in singer Patrick's alcoholism to stagger to their feet. Tonight, however, Strangelove stand up to show they have finally emerged from the umbra of self-destruction. And they are positively luminous.
The sense of claustrophobic panic that characterised the older material has been traded for smiling confidence, or - can it be? - optimism, even. The angst and dislocation remains, but it's no longer expressed in nullifying sub-Smiths mutterings or suicide-note lyrics. "Freak" springs forth like a striking snake - brutally fast and poisonously catchy; the new single "Greatest Show On Earth" is uncannily upbeat; "Someday Soon" shakes off any clammy residue of the "new grave" and proves that Strangelove can rock (hard) and pop (explosively!) with the best of them.
No longer chemically cluttered, the new Patrick is relaxed and good-humoured, pulling faces and bantering with the crowd. With his impeccable haircut and skinny (boy, is he!) black top, he pogos around stage like and androgynous little pixie. Even his Martin Rossiter-esque intonations are a thing of the past. This could be a completely different band.
Strangelove have scaled the heights of their potential at last. Let's hope they don't fall down.
Even the older songs shimmer rather than whimper, each of them injected with re-invented and inspired gusto. The crashing "Time For The Rest Of Your Life" sounds life-affirming rather than doom-laden, the paranoid shriek of "Human Machines" is now a gargantuan technological aria with whirring Moogs and squalling guitars.
This is a message to the skies. Strangelove have scaled the heights of their potential at last. Let's hope they don't fall down"
(April Long - NME 19/7/97)
Message from Paul of Sermon, Strangelove's management.
Unfortunately I have bad news for you..........Strangelove split up on Monday 20th April (98) so they will not be playing any of the European festivals that they were booked to do.
It was a mutual decision by all of the band and we will let you have more information very soon. We are sending out a press release today and the English music papers will be reporting the news next week;the radio will be reporting it this week.
LYRICS
Beautiful Alone
I'm not the same as you
That's always been the problem
It's a problem that we hide away but true
Something UNSAID
That hangs between the future
It's a future that we never had but true
I remember stars above her
Scattered through this sky just for her
And how very much I loved her
Beautiful Alone
Everything and always to me
Everything and always was she
Beautiful Alone
Some people say to you -
They want to be your lover
They want to turn you into something else not you
Same people wait
They're saving up their hatred
Just for twisting knives into the back of you
I remember stars above her
Scattered through this sky just for her
And how very much I loved her
Beautiful Alone
Everything and always to me
Everything and all the thing to me
Beautiful Alone
On Free Q CD "World of Noise"
Time For The Rest Of Your Life
Inside the CD cover it says:
"As catchphrases go, Patrick Duff of Strangelove's
emphatic shriek of "christ!" in Time For The Rest Of
Your Life is certainly memorable. Evoking thoughts
of Morrissey as vocally-tutored by Scott Walker, this
title track of the Bristol group's debut album was loudly
heralded Single Of The Year by Q writers."
And inside the magazine it says:
"The title track of their remarkable 1994 debut album
and the song that spawned the Strangelove catchphrase,
"Christ!". Guitarist Alex Lee: "When we played it live, a
few people said it was the best song we'd got. That's when
I began to realise that, actually, it was The Business."
Lyricist and frontman Patrick Duff: "This record sounds like
the inside of my head."
May -95 (No. 104)