Eldritch's crowning glory? - The Reptile House EP

No record sums up the unique and lasting appeal of The Sisters of Mercy more than The Reptile House EP. In his book on the genre, The Dark Reign of Gothic Rock (with the telling subheading In the Reptile House with The Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus and The Cure, author Dave Thompson states "All that Gothic Rock would ever become is captured on this one EP," and the deep resonance the release caused both at the time – released as it was, right in the middle of the key year of 1983 - and subsequently gives some substance to that claim. In every respect, The Reptile House typifies, exemplifies and to a certain extent defines the degree of Eldritch’s obsession with every aspect of the band’s development at this stage.  In interviews the singer always railed against the idea that “independent” was synonymous with “amateurish,” and explained his approach to Melody Maker’s Adam Sweeting in 1984: "I always took a very grandiose view of things. That was tempered with a willingness to see the bastard thing through and make it work."

After three amphetamine-fuelled fast-paced singles, Eldritch’s uniquely meticulous approach to his craft reached new heights with the slower-brning songs of  The Reptile House EP, in every aspect of the release, from the recording to the marketing of the new songs. Endless negotiations with a variety of major labels, wrangles with fellow band members, and personal health and relationship issues over the next two years would cast a growing shadow over the subsequent releases,as the pressures of being singer, lyricist and manager began to take their inevitable toll, but Eldritch's own perfectionism, a key feature of the band's rise to fame and future chart successes, seems to have reached its early zenith on The Reptile House.

The 12” extended play vinyl was released in the early summer of 1983, within six weeks of the 12” version of the penultimate Alice/Floorshow single, although the exact actual release date is, as with many Merciful Releases, a matter of some conjecture. Most sources list 16^th May for the EP’s arrival in the shops, but in fact that was the date of the second test pressing, necessitated because Eldritch wasn’t happy with the sound of the first (17^th March) at the Mayking plant in France, to where it had to be returned. It is hard to imagine that this was a frequent occurrence for cash-strapped independent bands, but such was the singer’s single-minded obsession with every detail of TSOM that he regarded the delay and extra expense as not only acceptable but essential.

This Machiavellian approach would cost Eldritch many band-mates over the years, starting with the departure of Ben Gunn before the next single (Temple of Love) hit the shops less than six months later. The increasing divergence of standards between the singer and the rest of the band had already become apparent in the studio, as comments kindly shared in The Sisters of Mercy 1980-1985 Facebook fan group by John Spence, who engineered the recording session at KG studios in Bridlington will testify. "I was involved from the beginning but Ken Giles spent a good bit of time showing me the set up he had used for recording the drums from the Roland TR 606…When I was happy with it, Andy would step in and start tweaking it. He would sit for hours listening to just the bass drum mic and fiddling with the EQ, then the same with the snare channel and the high channel. At first, I assumed that he was trying to achieve a certain sound, but I later realized that he didn't actually know what he was doing, he was just finding out what each frequency sounded like… The rest of the band spent most of the time lying around in sleeping bags on the studio floor and I don't remember who did what. Recording the vocal was challenging because Andy sang very, very quietly. I suspect it was the only way he could hold the pitch in the lower register. … He always wanted his voice to sound lower and deeper. The mixing process was not difficult but very time consuming. I would bring up the drum track on a desk channel, set a basic sound and level then Andy would sit for 3/4/5 hours twiddling with the EQ and sends into a couple of effects. During this time, I would hover around, smoke, drink coffee and read. When he declared himself happy with the drum sound, I would then bring up the bass and the process started again followed by the guitars and vocals. I would balance up as we went along and take care of the technical side. One very distinct memory I do have is of when we'd finished the mixing and I'd edited the 1/4" tape to make a Production Master (tracks in the right order with the right gaps etc), Andy brought the rest of the band in to listen to it. When it finished, there was no invitation to comment or offer any creative input...just "There it is"… I was still very much learning myself and was interested in Andy's approach. He did things I wouldn't do, some of them worked, some didn't. It taught me the value of experimentation.”

Eldritch would lay claim to having been responsible for even more of the finished product in 1992 interviews when promoting the Some Girls Wander By Mistake compilation album, which featured the entire The Reptile House EP alongside other early singles. “On records like 'Reptile House' or 'Temple of Love' they [Gary Marx and Craig Adams] didn't even play. They weren't into recording that much, they just wanted to play live. They were sleeping in some corner until I woke them up after I had played and recorded everything on my own. When they asked me how their guitar and bass parts had turned out, I used to say to them they performed very well. Gary didn't even listen to 'The Reptile House EP' until it had been released on vinyl and I handed it to him with the words, 'This is our new record, you'll like it!'" Eldritch told the German magazine Visions.

Earlier this year, a copy of the first Test Pressing of The Reptile House EP became available for sale on EBay, selling within a couple of hours for its £1000 “Buy It Now” price. What made the record unique was the extensive notes which Eldritch had hand-written on the plain white sleeve of the pre-release, a tactic he employed to great effect to communicate with the London-based movers and shakers of the UK music industry from his Leeds stronghold. This particular copy had been sent to a sympathetic journalist, Steve Sutherland, who was infamous at the time for an interview which he conducted with Bauhaus in front of the band’s baying audience immediately prior to the Northampton band’s October 1982 show at London’s Lyceum Theatre. Having taken umbrage at a scathing Sutherland live review published in the NME the previous year, Sutherland had bravely faced a very hostile Bauhaus audience in an “interview” at which he had to defend his thesis that the band were mere Bowie copyists, a viewpoint made considerably easier by the band’s contemporary releases of their Ziggy Stardust single.

In 1983, Sutherland was the lucky recipient of the following personal message from Eldritch on his copy of the (first) test pressing: “Dear Steve -  This record is completely unarguable: take it on its own terms bearing in mind that it doesn’t give a damn whether you like it or not. The mix is obtuse, the pace relentlessly, unyieldingly slow. The last track [Burn] especially promises something to hold on to and then proceeds to recede away before the reprise of track #1 puts you right back where you started – the door of The Reptile House has swung shut behind you again. Welcome.”

Another message elsewhere on the sleeve features more clues as to the musical and lyrical claustrophobia of the record’s contents. “There are no windows in The Reptile House, and there is no handle on the inside of the door. The rules of the game are house rules, and it will take you a long time to understand them.” “Such,” said Mr Eldritch with a pompous and smug leer, “is Life. Goodnight children.” Here endeth the twenty-third lesson.” A unique insight into the singer’s frame of mind and view of his own place in the wider scheme of things, and enough for a well-known Belgian collector to immediately part with a four-figure sum to add another jewel to his personal TSOM treasure trove.

Eldritch had sent similarly detailed, personalised missives to Radio 1’s John Peel, read out on air  by the DJ on 14th June 1983 (link), surely a date which is closer to the real release day of the EP:  “Dear John, Here’s The Reptile House EP, our exorcism of the slow and serious, although it’s working title was “Slither, you ..” and here follows a rude word, so I can’t say that on the radio so I’ll say “Kenny Everett” instead. We’ve since taken to calling it The Commercial Suicide EP and we’ll understand perfectly if you feel it’s too dirge-ridden to play on the radio. It seems to take most people about six plays to understand how and why it works, another six or so to like it, it’s available as of now with a retail price of £2.99. Don’t let it grind you down. Love from Leeds’ Finest.” 

Despite – or maybe because of – the “dirge-ridden” contents, The Reptile House EP remains for many fans their favourite of the band’s releases, and it continues to inspire Eldritch’s fellow musicians. For example, Mark Sayle of the currently touted darkwave band Mark E Moon told the online magazine White Light/White Heat, “One of the first records I bought was ‘The Reptile House’ EP by the Sisters of Mercy. It’s still one of my favourite releases and that dark, cold sound has informed a lot of my songwriting.” Asked about the band’s 2019 album Refer, Sayle added “If I had to pick a favourite song it would probably have to be ‘Abandon’. It’s an epic gothic dirge that would sit comfortably on an early Sisters Of Mercy record. The darkness and the bleakness is palpable. I just love the imagery and the music….”

This recent release certainly confirms Dave Thompson's view in The Dark Reign of Gothic Rock that "all that a hundred, a thousand bands have tried to recapture in their own variations was blueprinted across those five songs" (of The Reptile House EP), emphasising the significance of the release to the genre as a whole. Trevor Ristow's excellent recent biography of The Sisters of Mercy's golden age takes it title Waiting For Another War from the lyrics of one of the more overtly political songs on the EP, Valentine, and Eldritch has often said that it represents his most political writing of the early days, with one interview referencing the Houses of Parliament (as alluded to in the backwards section of Burn) and another stating that it was a modern day Pilgrim's Progress. Both lyrically and musically the band struggled to recapture the intensity they achieved on this EP, although sections of side 2 of First And Last And Always and some of the B sides of the singles from that era came close. With rumours circulating the current iteration of the band is close to breaking Eldritch's near thirty year recording silence, he would do well to reflect that he has yet to top what was largely his first solo effort - The Reptile House EP.

My thanks for their help with this post are due to Phil Verne, Bruno Bossier, Trevor Ristow, Mark and Phil of Mark E Moon, John Spence, Dave Thompson and others who have helped to shed light in this most seminal of releases.