Salutary tales from the world of pop
Today's Guardian contains the following salutary tales:
Five Thirty
Who were they? Proto-Britpop rock'n'roll trio from Oxford, who thrilled critics bored of shoegazing bands. Said NME: "Five Thirty communicate a buzz with the speed and efficiency of electric shock treatment ... They're going to release one of the albums of the year."
What happened? Split in 1992 after four singles and one album, Bed, neglected to trouble the top 40.
Tara Milton (vocals, bass): "We stood out from the scene like a sore thumb. Ironically enough, when we got a major recording deal, our profile deteriorated. We had a few run-ins with the label early on, which made us very unpopular with them. They chose not to promote our second single so it flopped, and I don't think we ever recovered from that. After we recorded the album, there was more pressure on us. I was a bit of a control freak - I used to scream at the drummer if he dropped a beat and I'm sad about that now. After one show in America he told me he was leaving. We tried several drummers but we split in 1992. I think Bed did OK, but I never received any royalty cheques because we owed the record company a fortune. I'm recording my solo debut now. I don't sit around analysing what happened."
Birdland
Who were they? Tamworth quartet celebrated for their raucous punk-pop and bottle-blond barnets. "As far as debut discs go, this ranks among the all-time greats," said music magazine Sounds when they appeared on the scene.
What happened? Despite a handful of indie hits, their disappointing 1991 debut sank without trace.
Lee Vincent (guitar): "Our manager was in control of the hype machine. He sold it to the major labels in America that we were the next Who, and we weren't ready for that. As far as we were concerned, we were the next Jesus & Mary Chain. We got signed to MCA in America, which was a pretty big deal, but our manager was a psychopath. We generated a lot of money and we didn't see any of it so we sacked him, but we'd signed contracts that gave him control of everything and it paralysed us. I wasn't happy with the album. We should have made an album like our first EP, but of course we listened to a lot of idiots. The press turned on us and it slowly fell apart. I ended up moving to America, where I have a new band called Psychic Drive. Birdland was a nightmare, really."
S*M*A*S*H
Who were they? Angry Welwyn Garden City punk trio. Typical press quote: "They play as if their family and friends are being held to ransom." NME said they were like "the Stone Roses on PCP".
What happened? (I Want To) Kill Somebody reached number 26 in 1994, but a subsequent album was poorly received.
Ed Borrie (vocals, guitar): "We were built up as the leaders of a scene dubbed the New Wave of New Wave. I didn't complain because it focused attention on the records. It went wrong for us fairly quickly, mostly as a result of my worsening drug addiction. Being in the spotlight didn't help. Rob [Hague, drums] and Salv [Alessi, bass] were my two best friends since we started in a scout hut. They weren't prepared to watch me kill myself so they said goodbye. I ended up in despair, then rehab. Eighteen months ago I went round to Rob's house, had some tears and said a few apologies. We've started playing again but we have no aspirations to go through that shit again. We'll play a few gigs, make a little record and it'll be as innocent as it was in the beginning."
Ultrasound
Who were they? Extravagantly hyped prog-glam outfit fronted by flamboyant endomorph Andrew "Tiny" Wood. NME described their music as "a monument to the transformative, colossal power of rock'n'roll".
What happened? They never bounced back from the failure of 1999's ambitious two-disc debut, Everything Picture.
Matt Jones (keyboards): "We signed for a lot of money, so there was massive pressure on us to be the next big thing, which I was always curious about because it was quite an odd band - I didn't know that we'd ever have mass appeal. The album took ages to record and I got really bored with it. Tiny and Richard [Green], as the main songwriters, thought the weight of it was on their shoulders and the rest of us suffered because we weren't being included. Our friendship deteriorated so much that even if the record had done well I'm not sure we'd have continued. Hype was the catalyst for all the egos and bad behaviour. Parts of the band were properly obnoxious. It's one thing to get a bit of confidence but if you think you're God's gift you're just going to fuck up."