Julian Cope

Is Julian Cope the Greatest Living Englishmen? Well he's more convincing in the stack heels and pointy hat department than Stephen Fry.

The thing about Cope is that he's pursued all the things that interested him, wants to others to share that interest and completely understands the importance of the grand gesture. From music to stone circles, he's a 21st century renaissance man with his heart in the Neolithic and his head in Haight Ashbury. Ok maybe he's not he's Psychedelic Da Vinci but his precarious balancing act between Pre historic Professor, dribbling loon, dogged music ferret, Shaman and shambles, Idiot Savant and idiot idiot is all done with such enthusiasm and charm.

There's a huge Cope back catalogue to work through from the Teardrop Explodes brief pop career through his mixed bag of solo albums. Since the late 90s he has withdrawn from the mainstream Record Industry, releasing material through his own labels and website. Although there is a lot to love about the man and his music, part of the real value of Copey is the interviews, his persona and the books. His monthly address to the nation is always worth a read and is always a good pointer to unusual music. (http://www.headheritage.co.uk/addressdrudion/96/2007/) His two autobiographies are both essential reading; well written, musically literate and chock full of some scary/funny drug stories from a man whose head was either in the clouds or up his arse.

Head On covers Copey's Tamworth childhood, escape to Liverpool Punk scene, the Teardrop Explodes brief brush with Pop Stardom in all it's Smash Hits glory and Cope’s transformation from resolutely drug free to determinedly drug filled.

It's really good at capturing the intensity of the desire in the early Liverpool days to make the band work. All the characters involved were out of control. Drummer Gary Dwyer spent one tour with a cassette of Frank Sinatra in his unchanged pants. Anyone unfortunate enough to fall asleep was likely to wake up to the sight of Dwyer "Getting the Frank out". People it’s bad…. but not as disgusting as Sacky Bill. This was Dwyer’s ability to stretch his bag over his bell and up to his belly until his genitals "Looked like a turtle covered in a tarpaulin."

Even as Reward was a hit, with its video of searchlights, the careering jeep (they bought it) and Copey in his now established uniform of leather flying jacket and jodhpurs, The Public were turning on him. Now I think an opening line of "Bless my cotton socks I'm in the news" the brass fanfare and swirling bass and keyboards is unbeatable. Some other people do not. Cope quotes 1981's best joke as

"What's the difference between a Cow and The Teardrop Explodes?"

"A Cow has got a twat at the back and horns at the front"

The first album was recorded with Cope dressed as Lawrence of Arabia and each morning Cope and Dwyer would take acid and ride down to the studio on imaginary horses. “I called mine Dobbin, Gary called his Bumhead”. By the sessions for the aborted third album they were playing a game called Brick where 2 people stood 15 feet apart and threw a brick at each other. Cope had the (Acid) advantage and he could see the vapour trails coming off the brick…. others were not so lucky.

I saw The Teardrops in Manchester during the Wilder tour. During a climactic final moment Cope ran towards a monitor looking as if he was going to do something dramatic.... as he tried to move it he realised that he couldn’t.... so he slunk off stage instead. It got worse. At one of their final gigs they, incongruously, supported Queen at Milton Keynes Bowl and were upstaged by Queen’s helicopter touching down mid gig. At their final Manchester gig at The University the tape machine broke and Copey stripped off. Milli Vanilli to Willy Vanilli

The second book Repossessed covers the period after the Teardrops split, as Cope retreated to Tamworth and started to revisit his childhood and rebuild his own myths about the landscape. In 1984 he sneaked 2 solo albums out past the record company (who’d only kept him on because he shared management with Tears For Fears) including Fried where he's naked under a tortoiseshell. I’ve always liked the albums but from a professional point of view, the industry had written him off, he’d become a byword for underachieving loon and he was underperforming at key gigs. He describes watching the support band The Woodentops as they used all his tricks and made it work. While the craziness of the first book is laugh out loud funny, it gets bleaker for the Tamworth years.

He started collecting toy cars, keeping them in a room in the attic. But he blocked up the door so that the only way to reach the sanctuary of the toy room was to crawl through a tunnel running the full length of the house. In 1985 his new obsession was speed walking round Drayton Bassett. Obviously he had a special outfit for it…. long johns and a hat made form his wife Dorian’s fake fur collars.

They became reclusive, unable to deal with the overflowing toilet and stockpiling food for an unspecified but imminent disaster. Eventually though they needed to go to the shop. He didn’t know how to get to the supermarket but couldn’t face calling a taxi. So he set off walking until eventually his path was blocked by a river.which he tried and failed to jump over. He eventually got to the supermarket but left a trail of silt along the aisles.

1987’s St Julian album and the accompanying tour saw him rejuvenated though, with a clanging “2 car garage band” sound and the Cosmic Asshole mike stand that that was equal parts mike stand, scaffolding and pulpit. The follow up, My Nation Underground was not the album that the record company, Cope or I wanted though. Cue another dispute and Copey sulk, and cue his sneaky recordings Skellington and Droolian. They go the full range from whimsical to silly, from acid casualty mumblings to Jelly Pop Jerky Jean’s pop perfection about Japanese hair spray. Unlikely to win new fans, but sure to remind the old ones exactly why they liked him.

The career highs are the Peggy Suicide and Jehovah Kill albums. Both sprawling, sweeping epics, with elements of Prog rock, Funkadelic, eco themes, Paganism and Goddess Worship and big-hearted Pop tunes like Beautiful Love or Try Try Try.

He’s now acknowledged as an expert on Neolithic sites and his books The Modern Antiquarian and The Megalithic European are huge labours of love based on visits to hundreds of sites across Europe. Part travelogue, part prehistoric guidebook.

“I'm past the stage of trying to theorize about these places. I know what I believe, but I'm more interested in getting other people to see for themselves. Yes, the book is heavyweight and archaeologically thorough, but, better still, it's full of amazingly photogenic sites across Europe that would make anyone travel”

Last time Cope was at The Glee Club, he delivered an entertaining talk that spanned uptight druid control freaks and Neolithic rock n rollers. This time round he promises old songs, lots of new songs from the new album You Gotta Problem With Me imminent and old Teardrop Explodes songs to celebrate 25 years since the split.

Julian Cope Wulfrun Hall

I saw Julian Cope at Wolverhampton Wulfrun hall on 22nd Jan, with the unexpected bonus of it being a freebie with 2 hours notice. Anticipation is good but free and a lift is better. Even with only 2 hours anticipation I was really looking forward to it. I last saw him doing his Modern Antiquarian speaking tour at Birmingham Glee Club (1998?) and very entertaining he was too. I’d also seen him with the Teardrops on the Wilder tour at Manchester Apollo and solo tours at The Hacienda (with the Woodentops), Manchester Carousel (leathers and mike-stand era) and Moseley Dance Centre (Peggy Suicide). Fair to say then I’m a bit of a fan, read the books and seen him in various stages of Shamanic and shambolic.

He was introduced as Julian Cope and his Ear Splitting Psychedelic Band. Great start. JC hurtled round the stage like an Iggy Pop possessed in a leather Stetson, shades and a Madonna radio mike to Hanging Out And Hung Up On The Line from Peggy Suicide. Sounds good so far...except there were no vocals and neither he nor the crowd ever recovered. The technical problems lasted for a couple of songs, but, even when resolved he was still struggling to hit notes. I really don’t want to kick The Cope. I’d heard him on Mark Radcliffe late last year, playing Sitting In The Room Where They Found Saddam In” and I’d heard him on Radio 6, more recently. Both times he was witty, engaging and the songs mostly worked. At Wolves though the crowd seemed baffled and hostile to his between song chat. (“We need strong women.... so the wild men can be strong”). As he prepared to sing Promised Land from Peggy Suicide a voice from the crowd rang out “You’ll fuck it up.” He did. There was needless clapping along too, which prompted, “You know out of time clapping really fucks me off”. By now I think he knew he’d lost the night. There were attempts at crowd pleasing with World Shut Your Mouth (vocals suffered there), Bandy’s First Jump, Head hung low and an amazingly misjudged version of Spacehopper. As the last song of the night it was not only slower than the original but the drummer did the half time heavy metal drum trick making it sound even slower.

For all guitar fetishists and closet cock rockers (hands up) Copey played a Flying V, and I spotted a Les Paul bass. There was some great wiggy guitar playing throughout. Other highlights included the black lipstick wearing from the guitarist who swapped bass and guitar duties with Donald Ross Skinner. Subtle Energies Commission sounded good and looked even better as DRS was playing a double-necked guitar. The best new song was Give Me Head. I was at the bar then and missed out.

Copey had announced that “I’m entering my second psychedelic phase” and that his post gig plans involved some Mexican mushrooms. On the drive back I heard Boards Of Canada’s first lp and was staggered. I would normally run a mile from scary electronica but the analogue synth washes and jabbering filthy scratchy sounds that made up the rhythm just fitted in so well with the lights on the motorway. In fact it was more psychedelic than the gig.