With well over forty years having passed since the Ben Gunn era of The Sisters of Mercy, it’s a rare day that something new from those days turns up, and items from the pre-Gunn era are even rarer. So when the Tumblr blogger and fanzine archivist ‘stillunusual’ posted some more fanzine covers from the early eighties in his Flickr album, one item immediately caught my attention — the cover of a York fanzine, Getting Nowhere Fast, first published in 1981 and with a list of contents which included “a band called Sisters of Mercy”.
A previous York fanzine (Beaten to the Punch) on stillunusual’s site contained the previously unknown review of The Sisters’ legendary first gig supporting The Thompson Twins (covered in a previous post on this blog), so I was intrigued to see what the content of this new fanzine might be.
As before, the curator of stillunusual responded very positively and quickly to my request for a scan of this particular ‘zine to be uploaded to his site, kindly agreeing to add it to the list of publications which he would be adding in 2025. Getting Nowhere Fast (named after a single by contemporary Leeds band Girls At Our Best) had a second brief mention of TSOM on page two, which included further details of the contents of that edition, promising “an interesting article about Leeds band The Sisters of Mercy.”
The article itself seems to be a manifesto penned by Andrew Eldritch (then still Taylor) himself, beginning with the constant - over the past forty years - refusal to align the band to “any musical faction” with the statement that they “categorically refuse to compromise themselves to any such party.” This point had already been made in the début interview with Whippings and Apologies a few months earlier, and forty years of denial later, Eldritch steadfastly clings to the concept of musical isolation.
The usual inspirations get an outing - Stooges, Motörhead, and the band all three members of The Sisters at that time were equally fond of, MC5 - with the city of Detroit (home to two of the aforementioned bands) preferred as a key “reference point”. More of which later.
The sound is described as “an apocalyptic union of fuzz and echo”, a highly appropriate description of the grungy bass-heavy backing and the singer’s reverberating yelps, as those who have heard the so-called ‘Gary Marx’ demo tape or any of the live shows from that era will testify. The October 1982 Leeds Student review of the band’s support slot to The Psychedelic Furs would begin with the phrase “Fuzz and Feedback”, still therefore an apt description of the band’s sound over a year later.
Eldritch was always keen to emphasise Craig’s fundamental importance to the band’s overall sound - indeed, he usually dismissed the pre-Adams début single Damage Done as being effectively the work of a different band - and in this early manifesto he puts the bass front and central, saying that “the live sound revolves around Craig’s bass.” Marx’s guitar work comes in for some tongue-in-cheek criticism, as it “rarely manages …to stay in the same key as the bass”, with the relationship between the two being described as “tangential“! Trying to remain impartial, the vocals are described as a “primal scream” which “always overrides” the best efforts of the singer to “say something coherent”.
Interestingly, the author then slips into first person (plural) mode, effectively confirming that these are indeed the band’s own spokesperson’s words, when describing the differences between the band’s sound for live gigs as opposed to in the studio. This is apparently due to the fact the band “never rehearse”, although the St John’s Terrace rehearsal tape from that era would suggest that this as not strictly the case. The next section of the article is for me the most fascinating, and sums up some of the genuine thrill of watching the band in their pre-WEA days. “Having learnt the basis of a songs we get on stage and work round it. This can be exhilarating or truly abysmal. It means playing by instinct, something that other bands shy away from. It means walking a tightrope: to reach the other end is a colossal achievement (and wonderful to behold)”, an image that Eldritch would return to three years later in the song On The Wire. This “let’s just jam it and see how it goes” philosophy remained in tact throughout the 1981-1985 period (despite the band’s ever-increasing professionalism) in terms of the final song, most often a jam of Louie Louie, Ghost Rider, Sister Ray or a combination of two of these songs.
The piece ends with the fact that the band uses a drum machine “at present, awaiting the return of Frederick “Hammer” Kinski, the legendary fourth Sister and drummer, currently doing five years in a German prison following an incident at a German ‘ceremony’ which we were invited to in Bavaria.” Whilst this invention of a named fictitious drummer is undoubtedly an in-joke for the singer’s own amusement, at that time there had indeed been a plan to recruit a human drummer to supplement Doktor Avalanche.
A copy of the band’s first promo photo from the archive of Howard Thompson is inscribed on the back with the names of the band members as they were styled in 1981, as is the case in this fanzine piece: Eldritch at this stage was simply A, Mark had already adopted the pseudonym Gary Marx, and Craig Adams (refusing to use a nom-de-plume) was simply Craig! The singer is also credited with rhythm guitar in both lists at this stage, although this was solely for the studio, but the hand-written addendum confirms the plan to have live percussion in addition to Doktor Avalanche, but as Mark Andrews has confirmed in Paint My Name In Black And Gold, this proposal never came to fruition. The second guitarist at this stage for live shows incidentally was still Dave Humphrey, with Ben Gunn not joining until the following year.
The fanzine ‘manifesto’ is accompanied by a not hugely impressive drawing of Spiggy, as Eldritch was sometimes referred to at that time (before passing the name on to a cat), and a rather more disturbing drawing (in Eldritch’s hand?) with the legend “Hi there, disease lovers”, an attempt at horror/shock rock? The wavy cross on this item is the same as Eldritch had drawn on the band’s 1981 demo tape commonly referred to as the “Gary Marx tape.”
With another article filling the bottom half of that page, that seemed to be the end of the fanzine’s coverage of The Sisters, so it was a huge surprise to scroll to the next page and find a whole page of information again personally crafted by Eldritch using his calligraphy and graphic design skills.
There is much to dissect here:
- The page begins with a playlist of Eldritch’s favourite songs, many of which have been subsequently referenced elsewhere. In Mark Andrews’ Paint My Name In Black And Gold, Gary Marx mentions Patti Smith’s Ain’t It Strange as being one of the songs he and the then Andy Taylor had bonded over, excitedly comparing the minor differences between different bootleg recordings of the song, a phenomenon with which most readers of this blog will be able to identify! Marx also referred to himself, Craig and Wayne as being the “dum-dum boys” when discussing different narratives that had been put forward about the 1985 split in a 2003 interview with Glasperlenspiel. Louie Louie would have course be covered by the band ultimately, whilst Eldritch has frequently namechecked Pere Ubu (“my favourite gig ever”) as being a primary influence on him forming a band. The final choice, Bowie’s Panic in Detroit not only references another of his idols whom he would get to interview in the 1990’s but the song title again pays tribute to the American city he felt the closest affinity with (and where the infamous “Sassy Cat” band photograph would be taken three years later). Detroit was the home of the American automobile industry (Motor City, Motown etc) which notably included the manufacturer Pontiac which is namechecked in the next line. Two years later, Pontiac was also inexplicably thanked on the label of the 1983 single, Temple of Love. and the Monkeemobile which featured in 1985’s Black Planet video was the company’s GTO model, but the car referred to here, the auto giant’s monstrous 6.6 litre engined trans am muscle car, had been the star of the 1977 surprise hit Burt Reynolds comedy road film Smokey and the Bandit, and Eldritch was clearly enamoured of the vehicle with what some might describe as somewhat gothic black paintjob, even more so than Red Shark, the rented Chevrolet Caprice convertible which was central to Hunter S Thompson’s 1971 classic Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas.
-The next section contains segments of the lyrics to the song Floorshow, a key track on the 1981 demo tape and a song which was still a year away from release. Eldritch was clearly as proud of the lyric as he would be of the track itself, which is also still Gary Marx’s favourite song (as told to Mark Andrews in an interview for The Quietus), with Craig’s inimitable fuzzbox bass in full effect.
-This section also mentions that the next gig as being the Futurama festival show on 5th September 1981. As The Sisters were a relatively late addition to the bill, and that there is a stop-press elsewhere in the fanzine regarding the band Orange Juice which is dated August 1981, it is clear that the fanzine dates from that month.
-Eldritch’s graphic art on this lower half of the page is also fascinating. Most obviously, there is a unique attempt at a different Merciful Release star, possibly an attempt to create different logos for the label and the band. The 3D effect is something which Eldritch would return to for other alternative graphic work, both with the “Andrea White” artwork in the 1990’s (if speculation on Heartland Forum is to be believed, this was possibly another Andrew Taylor pseudonym) and with the more recent head and star logo for the current iteration of the band. Amongst the shapes in the margins is a diamond pattern not dissimilar to that later adopted by Sisters protégés Salvation, whilst the wobbly cross gets another outing for the “rise and reverberate” label slogan at the bottom of the page.
-The final written slogan refers back to issues flagged up on the previous page. “Free Frederick Kinski” is a reference to the allegedly incarcerated apocryphal Sisters drummer (Eldritch has spoken elsewhere of his admiration for the actor Klaus Kinski), whilst “Lock up Wayne Kramer” refers to the MC5 frontman who had in fact served jail sentences for drug offences in the 1970s.
Artefacts hand-written by Eldritch from the band’s early days are particularly rare, so this very welcome new discovery is further evidence of the singer’s single-minded determination to construct a convincing narrative for the band, and also of his own talent as a graphic artist. Together with the printed article, it provides further evidence of key influences as well as an insight into the band’s approach to rehearsals, which may help to explain why gigs in the early years wee such an exhilarating experience for both band and fans alike.
My thanks for this post are due primarily to the stillunusual fanzine archive. Thanks again for uncovering this hidden treasure and sharing it with us. Thanks also to Howard Thompson and to collector LG. I would be very interested to learn of the significance of any of the other graphics on the hand-written page, or further details about the Frederick Kinski character.
Recommended for fans of early Sisters of Mercy:
- the venerable Heartland Forum
- Phil Verne’s The Sisters of Mercy 1980-1985 unofficial Facebook fan page
- Mark Andrews’ biography of the band’s early years, Paint My Name In Black And Gold
- Trevor Ristow’s biography of the same period, Waiting For Another War