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The Lemon Drop Kids This article originally appeared in the Record Mirror 11 April 1987. Words by Eleanor Levy. Pictures Joe Shutter. |
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New York's Channel 11 Programme in its schedule called "Putting On The Hits". In this, members of the great American public mime to records while pretending to be their favourite band. The winner of this rare test of skill and star quality will win the chance to go to on to the grand final - and a prize of $25,000.This week's lucky person was Donny Lovedart, whose special talent appeared to be parading in a red nappy with hearts stuck to his nipples, miming to "Cupid". For this, he won $1000. Now, there would be some who would have it that the Mighty Lemon Drops would be the perfect fodder for "Putting On The Hits". The comparisons with the Bunnymen/Teardrop Explodes heavy pop of the late seventies, have hung like a stone around their collective necks since that first twang on a Rickenbacker sailed forth from Wolverhampton. But now they're in America, land of the free, and such things don't matter. In the home of mass production (if something's worth selling, it's worth selling a million of), being totally 'original' matters less than the angle of your Ray Bans or the point of your boots. From Irish bartenders to the DJs on college radio stations, America is wishing the Mighty Lemon Drops 'have a nice day'. |
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To some, the Mighty Lemon Drops are more than just four black leather jackets from the Midlands. To some, they carry the hopes of the new guitar pop with them, from the tips of their Beatle boots to the tops of their short back and sides. Spearheading the 'Class Of '86' (they were one of the first to get major label backing for their material), voices mutter, with some justification, that if the Lemon Drops can't make it big, no one among the bands they've been continually lumped in with has got a cat in hell's chance. In the 'good old days', bands like the Bunnymen, Simple Minds and U2 were given years to beaver away before big bucks and stadium status enveloped them. Today, if your first two records don't 'do it', you're finished; you've blown your chance; you may as well put on the new Mel & Kim record, let your bits fly and your brain cells shrivel. Tours of foreign climes is one way to find out if you've got what it takes; tests your market potential, get your 'vibe' across. Releasing exceptional singles as the forerunner to your second album is another. 'Out Of Hand' first appeared on a RM EP in February. Then, it was stark and chilling; simple bass, drums and dual guitars. Now, it is a polished, multi-instrument tune. A pulsating, rippling song with a classic pop hook. This, of course, is never enough though. "It must be quite difficult, someone talking our record round to radio stations with, say, Huey Lewis admits guitarist David Newton, self confessed Tony Meo look-a-like and most talkative of the four. "A daytime Radio 1 DJ is obviously going to play Huey Lewis rather than the JAMC. It's great though, when someone like the Smiths can be one of the biggest bands in England and never really get played on daytime radio. I think they've been bullied into playing them, now,. I still think they're embarrassed to do it, though". In New York, heads turn and faces stare, aghast as the four black figures with the funny haircuts stride along amongst the fire escapes and electrical discount stores of Canal Street, on the edge of the city's Chinatown. As we sit in Kelly's Bar, with the sepia toned posters of Republican heroes staring down from all sides, the four Lemon Drops talk about pressure, popularity... and Wolverhampton Wanderers Football Club. Are they conscious of how distinctive they look in this grand city that's full of people, but completely lacking in style? "I think that's what happens when you get four of anything walking together. or five, or six, or seven!" says David. "In Wolverhampton, if you see a gang of Football fans all together, they stand out too." "That's because that's all they've got," says Keith Rawley. Keith is the drummer, and like most drummers, doesn't say an awful lot. Just shakes his fringe occasionally and looks pretty damn cool. After a month bearing their souls 'on the road' the Lemon Drops are getting used to this interview business now. Laughs and in-jokes abound. Put them in front of a camera, though, and the four faces snap shut into mean and moody stares, cheeks sucked in dramatically. This is probably born more out of feeling like potential dickheads posing in the middle of Times Square or on the Uptown subway, than out of a desire to look like cool and sexy dudes, but the Mighty Lemon Drops still have a lot to learn in the self promotion stakes. "A lot of people are surprised when they realise it's only a year since "Like An Angel" came out," says Tony Linehan, bass player and chief handshaker of a band rapidly having to learn the art of music biz etiquette. "I've got in the habit now," he explains. "So much that even when I meet one of the others in the band I start shaking their hand."
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The night before, a lot of hand shaking had gone on at the Ritz, a dark and tatty venue that houses New York's 'alternative' population and a good few nasty diseases in the toilets. There, the Lemon Drops, together with the Chameleons and Camper van Beethoven, had faced a couple of thousand staring-eyed people. It wasn't the greatest Lemon Drops performance in the world - but the crowd didn't seem to realise. "We always play OK" David explains in the kind of Wolverhampton accent that people put on when they're meaning to take the piss out of Wolverhampton accents. "We always play OK; we always get by and that. But for some reason, when it's a big show like this, there's always something missing." That something missing, their critics would whisper loudly behind their backs, is variety. The story goes that the Mighty Lemon Drops have only got two songs - the fast one and the slow one. Anyone who's listened to their debut 'Happy Head' LP will realise that the Lemon Drops deficiencies lie only in presentation, not the songs themselves, which are as memorable, emotional pieces of music as you will find in these inhuman times (sob). As lead singer Paul marsh says from behind the most outstanding fringe in pop, "I had a bloke say to me the other night, 'when I listen to your songs, I just want to drive at 95 miles an hour down the highway'." Not in the opposite direction. As the Mighty Lemon Drops take to stage of the Ritz, a long haired gentleman to my left remarks that "they sound like Simple Minds and Roxy Music. By the way, I'm in a band myself. We're very heavily influenced by the Velvet Underground..." This latest in the long line of comparisons ("the more the merrier," says Paul, deadpanly), fairly tickles the Mighty Lemon Drops. "Roxy Music's the one that pleased me most actually," says David "Circa 1982 'Avalon' period Roxy. Big influence!" And what's made them the most irritated? David grins and his eyebrows disappear beneath his cap. "We don't get compared to Echo And The Bunnymen enough. Actually , we met Pete Wylie last night. He reviewed 'The Other Side Of You' on Radio 1 when it came out and he was his usual self, going on and on saying 'they're ripping me off; I did this five years ago!' He came backstage last night and was really apologetic." Other reactions from people during this tour of America have been equally positive. Adopted by the influential college radio circuit that has opened itself up to the better British bands of recent times, plus the mandatory spot on MTV filmed at the Ritz, the epic nature of the Mighty Lemon Drops' brand of pop could well see America opening it's heart to the band before the folks back home catch up. "We have a hard-core of fans, but also we seem to be getting the rock fan - the real music fan - coming to our gigs. Someone who likes everything from indie stuff to U2," explains David. "I'm not saying people in England aren't interested in the lyrics, but in America, it's even more so. Some girl at a college radio station will quote lists of lyrics off the top of her head and you'll think 'what song's that from?'. The letters we get always mention the lyrics for some reason". Tony nods his head philosophically. "They say, 'this song changed my life!' And you think 'oh, I wrote that on the bog in ten minutes'." The Mighty Lemon Drops have done their growing up very much in public. The difference between their first, self produced Dreamworld version of 'Like An Angel', and the quality controlled, slick 'Needles And Pins' refrain of 'Out Of Hand', is the one difference between just another band with potential and one who are beginning to fulfill that potential. Of course, people will scoff. Of course, people will continue to make comparisons with the Bunnymen (who, naturally original and never once listened to a Doors record, oh dear me, no). Of Course, some people will continue to prefer the easy, dead-from-the-neck-up comfort of a Huey Lewis, mel & Kim or Luther Vandross track; or some dodgy charity record launched as a self promotion vehicle for the scummiest national paper of them all. You can't change that. If the Mighty lemon Drops never make that step into the top 40 it will be a shame, but not a catastrophe. And just like in the late Seventies, when 'Saturday Night fever' led that decade's chart invasion by mindless disco trash, only to give way to the likes of the Bunnymen, the Cure et al.... Well, there's hope for us all. The stock final question, then, Paul. What will you all be doing in five year's time? "I think we'd all like to have a son each. Then form a band with our sons. The Little Lemon Drops." "Like that Bob Hope film, " adds David. "The Lemon Drop Kid." Ladies and gentlemen, meet the Lemon Drop Kids. Sharp, bitter but ultimately satisfying. Lick them and see. |
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