Cath Carroll by Mike Stein

Cath Carroll
by Mike Stein

It is only appropriate for Cath Carroll to be featured in Scream City. As co-editor of one of the original Manchester music fanzines, City Fun with Liz Naylor, she played integral part in documenting Manchester's post-punk pop environment in the early 80s. The photocopied sheets of City Fun offer an amusing glimpse into the development of the city's music scene. From the reviews of early gigs by The Smiths, the jabs at Factory Records, and the coverage of lesser known acts and labels, one gets a distinctly local perspective not offered by the larger national publications of the time. As part of the band Miaow and as a solo artist, Cath went on to contribute to the music herself, releasing a number of singles and an album for Factory.

Now residing in the Chicago area, far from the northern city where she began her career, she continues to work as a writer and musician. Her latest album 'The Gondoliers of Ghost Lake' was released in 2002 via LTM. Cath kindly took time to answer some questions about her music and her time in Manchester.

MS: Most people know of your involvement with the Manchester music scene having begun with the "City Fun" fanzine in 1979. What prompted you and Liz to start City Fun? At this time, how actively were you involved in the local music scene?

CC: Actually, Liz and I didn't start City Fun - it began as a collective effort headed by Andy Zero, a sort of upbeat Sniffin' Glue I believe. Liz wrote a few pieces for it and we kept showing up at the editorial meetings. Every fortnight we'd have these hideously grueling all night layout sessions where the giant pages were spread out all over the floor and Andy would be typing up pieces in the corner. On a good night, The Fall rehearsed upstairs, so we'd have them leaking through the floorboards. Around 8am, we had to call time and we'd stagger out to the bus stop covered in Copydex.

We hung on, were obnoxious and eventually we ran it. When Liz and I met in March '79, we started Glass Animals with a gal named Cilla and with Pip from The Distractions on drums, who wore several layers of drag. Soon after, we became the Gay Animals and, thanks to the astonishing patience and kindness of Kay Carroll, Mark Smith, Richard Boon and the long suffering OZ PA crew, we attached ourselves to a lot of local bills and hitch hiked our way to further flung gigs. The people at The Russell Club, Alan Wise, and other local promoters usually let us in free to sell our magazine (or we stood in militant salesmanship outside the door). Considering we devoted most of CF's space to whining about them, they were quite sporting. We obsessed about the local music scene – not sure if that's really being involved. We had a lot to say about it.

MS: City Fun was known for having somewhat of an anti-Factory bend, giving more praise to the New Hormones affiliated bands as well as The Smiths. Was this done in jest, or did you generally feel that Factory was over-hyped at the time?

CC: Factory was an endless source of colour and Tony Wilson was such an extravagant personality, it was really a gift for anyone looking for something to say. Wilson astonished us with his willingness to put himself out there and say preposterous things. For Wilson, if the reality didn't suit the vision, then it was augmented. I think many Mancunian urban legends can be traced to him. The thing is, he and Factory had tremendous substance and he moved this substance around to fashion a more appropriate reality. Well, why not, Manchester needed it. Looking back, they weren't over-hyped at all. In his way he was eventually fair, mostly very generous. I don't think anyone can accuse Tony of cashing in (unless you're New Order and it was your money). Richard Boon was/is a sweetheart and eventually let us use the New Hormones office for whatever we were doing. But since "Spiral Scratch" was such a life changer for Liz and me, covering the entire New Hormones catalogue wasn't a bias of convenience. We passionately loved God's Gift, Dislocation Dance, and Eric Random. We just had a hard time showing it.

MS: With New Hormones, Factory, and The Fall, there seemed to have been a number of factions within the Manchester scene at the time. Was there much rivalry between these groups and labels, or were they as supportive of one another as the music press led us to believe?

CC: There was a lot of archness in their rivalry, but all three seemed to have genuine affection for each other underneath. They all stayed true to character in their grousings about the other. There were other factions which may have been a little harder on them – especially entities which may have worked hard but lacked the fashion/anti-fashion flair and all-star grooviness of these three.

MS: You and Liz actually managed Ludus at one point. I believe this was done at the suggestion of New Hormones' Richard Boon. Was this done as an experiment or were you giving management a serious try?

CC: We were giving management of Ludus a serious try. We were not in the least businesslike, but we were thrilled to be working with Linder and Ian. It was a world unto itself, often a beautiful one, fraught with absurd drama and neuroses. Linder was always in process and we found her just fascinating. She was like this creature from another century. We could never work out how she sustained herself, but wouldn't dream of asking. We had admired her for a long time and were shocked when we met her. She was completely without artifice, this arty girl from Wigan who battled this exist entail anguish and became a living goddess.

MS: Was your band with Liz, Glass Animals (later renamed Gay Animals), more of a fun thing, or did you have serious intentions of recording and promoting records?

CC: Shockingly, we had very serious intentions. I think we hoped Phil Spector would find us and tune our guitars. We adored The Shirelles, but sounded like a bad accident at a Fall rehearsal. Liz was top, she did a fine version of 'She Was Poor but She Was Honest' and maybe we should have gone the Vaudeville route. It felt right. Richard Boon liked us, but no one else, though they tried. People liked the idea of us. We made for interesting reviews, but not records.

MS: In 1984, you and Liz relocated to London. Did you move there for a change of pace, or was it done with the intention of taking Gay Animals to the next step?

CC: We needed to move on and really loved London, it was so magical just to be able to lurch out of our squat in Rotherhithe and walk into the city over Tower Bridge. It was a very Dick Whittington thing, our moving. I don't think we had a business plan. We just wanted to move somewhere bigger. We found Manchester very violent. Being out late at night, or even on Market Street at 1:00 in the afternoon, someone always took issue with what you were. That might have been a karmic reflection. Anyway, we found London much safer.

MS: In London, Gay Animals quickly fizzled. Did you and Liz have a falling out, or was she just no longer interested in being in a band?

CC: We didn't fall out – our paths diverged for a couple of years. Liz left the band three days after we got to London. She was more interested in pursuing other forms of expression. By that time, Gay Animals was me and my then boyfriend, who had joined, and his friends. She was a writer and theorist – still is, of course – and wanted to spend more time in lesbian society. Not that Manchester didn't have a good one, it's just that this was London.

MS: After Gay Animals disbanded, you formed Miaow. The band's first big exposure came with the NME's now famous (or infamous, depending on how you look at it) 'C86' compilation, along with Primal Scream, The Wedding Present, McCarthy and others. How did you get your track on the tape?

CC: We had been supporting a lot of Rough Trade bands because our then manager Brian worked there, as did our fine friend Richard Boon. Roy Carr at the NME asked if Miaow wanted to contribute. Did I mention I sometimes worked at the NME as a freelance contributor? [Ed – yeah, we know!]

MS: Because of the success of this compilation, quite a few of the bands like The Mighty Lemon Drops received some (mostly short-lived) attention and got record contracts. Was Miaow courted by any labels at that time?

CC: Yes, we got a lot of interest. Mostly it was they wanted me to go solo. Nothing really came of it. Tony Wilson was the first one to say he wanted a band.

MS: Wilson signed you to Factory based on hearing a demo of 'When It All Comes Down'. Was there any animosity with Wilson at that time because of your 'City Fun' past?

CC: I didn't think so. Everything we'd written, we'd written affectionately. We found out later he'd been quite offended, which makes me feel awful. We were so fond of Tony; he was so clearly not sure of himself, yet so willing to be the one to start a dialogue. However, he keeps – even now – telling this story about how we owe him £5K for a magazine he backed (it was £50 and we hoped it was a grant) and how I took all the money Factory gave me and ran away to America to start a hot dog stand, which is not true. It is payback of a distinctly Wilsonian kind.

MS: Prior to the house invasion, the label seemed to be focusing on post-Smiths bands with a jangly sound like The Railway Children and early Happy Mondays. Do you think that Wilson felt that Miaow fit this mold?

CC: When Miaow's records were being released, we didn't speak much with Tony. He'd call from his car phone every now and again and say something nice like "love the single darling, very Partridge family, now go practice, find a French horn." What was he thinking? I don't know. I heard Rob Gretton asked him this question a lot.

MS: In the late 80s, you were also working for Paul Smith's Blast First label at a time when they were releasing records by harder American acts like Butthole Surfers, Big Black, and Sonic Youth. Through this connection, I believe Miaow secured opening slots for a few of these bands.

MS: At that time Miaow were still more associated with the C86 "indie" sound, did some of these groups rub off on Miaow or your eventual solo work?

CC: Ron our bass player seemed very taken by the Butthole Surfers. We almost lost him when we played with them at the old Ambulance Station on Old Kent Road. I was very taken by Big Black. I thought they'd be a Satanic addle-addle guitar band. I hadn't expected a drum machine and such simplicity. It's always pleasing to have your expectations ruined.

MS: I have always admired the way your first solo album 'England Made Me' elegantly blended bossa nova, the hardcore Albini riffs, and moody dance pop. Were you deliberately trying to blend these styles?

CC: Thanks for liking it. It wasn't a deliberate blending, but more an assembly of things I liked that sounded great in my head. The track 'Train You're On' with ⅔ of Big Black and the Brazilian samba ensemble – I wish I hadn't stuck my vocals on that. I think it was a perfect union of 2 elements. Oh well.

MS: On the album, you collaborated with dance producers Marc Brydon (later in Moloko) and Sim Lister at FON Studios, who were both involved in the Northern "bleep" scene emerging out of Sheffield at the time. Were you influenced at all by early British techno and house, or was this simply the result of collaborating with friends?

CC: Again it was a result of really liking those records. I didn't know Sim and Mark, although we shared a manager in Amrik Rai. I loved the mood of their compositions; it wasn't a conscious choice to bring on the disco grooves.

MS: Much is made of how the costs behind the recording and promotion of "England Made Me" helped contribute to the financial downfall of Factory. The label was of course notorious for not keeping a tight reign on its expenses (the FAC 251 office building, the Mondays recording session in Barbados, the list goes on). Did they exert any control over the budget of the album's recording or did they let you do as you please?

CC: We got a small part of the advance in cash; the rest was covered as we went along. We always ran it by them first. Payments made to FON studios were a source of much Factory disgruntlement. The web was tangled. Amrik Rai was one half of my management and he was one of the owners at FON, along with the studio manager, Dave Taylor. When lawyers warn you about conflict of interest, they are not just racking up billable hours. Some people (not Sim and Mark) did some not very above board stuff and I figured it out very late – the day before I left for the States. I think Factory were much more aware of whatever was going on in Sheffield.

MS: Factory squawked about my album project every now and again, and went Tony went on holiday, the accountant and Rob Gretton would get together and the project would be halted. Then my other manager, Paul Smith would sort things out. He wasn't from Sheffield, and he got along with Tony. EMM was probably one of quite a number of elements which caused the company's demise. Tony was the only one there who liked the music, so it was natural our team got the blame. Then there was that whole war with Sheffield which didn't help matters.

MS: 'Moves Like You' is one of those over the top tunes that should have been a massive hit. I believe that Tony Wilson also shares this opinion. Re-evaluating it 15 years later, how do you feel about the song now?

CC: Thank you. I like that song a lot – doesn't make me cringe, like some of them do.

MS: While recording EMM, you relocated to Chicago. What drew you there? Was it simply your connection with Steve Albini and Santiago Durango of Big Black?

CC: After years of suspicion, I had finally started to think of the USA as somewhere I'd like to live. Not long after I started going out with Santiago and I said I'd move, since he was in law school. Not a great career move at the time, but character building.

MS: You gained some attention in 1993 for being pictured on the cover of Unrest's 'Perfect Teeth' album (4AD/Teenbeat), as well as being referenced in the songs "Cath Carroll", "Where Are All Those Puerto Rican Boys" and "Angel I'll Walk You Home." How did you feel about that attention at the time? Did you find it to be flattering or just fan boy silliness?

CC: I don't know. However, all that stopped when he [Mark Robinson] met me.

MS: You ended up recording two singles and an album for (Unrest frontman) Mark Robinson's Teenbeat label. After 'True Crime Motel' you did not record for Teenbeat anymore. Was your work for Teenbeat only meant to be a one-off arrangement?

CC: When we did the album, Teenbeat had a licensing agreement with Matador. But that was a rather painful affair, I gather. They reined things in after that and I didn't release anything else through them. I really wasn't a Teenbeat type artist. I was more of a living artifact.

MS: Since then you've continued writing books and releasing music. After being involved with music for pushing 30 years, you still appear to be very inspired and excited by pop music. What continues to fuel this excitement?

CC: Sweetie, it's pushing 25 years, and it's the reverb that does it, every time.

MS: What's on the horizon for Cath Carroll? Will there be another album any time soon?

CC: We just moved to a more rural location and my partner Kerry Kelekovich and I are fixing up a working environment and going through songs right now, we need to decide on a mood.

MS: One final question... do you still keep in touch with anyone from your early days in Manchester?

CC: Liz and I still get along wonderfully – she's back in London, but is a great Manchester theorist and is therefore in touch with other great Manchester theorists of our time like Professor CP Lee. She knows what's what.