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THE
THE'S THATCHER YEARS
Bruce
Dessau - The Guardian - 1989
Matt Johnson looks intimidating. With a haircut just the respectable
side of skinhead, the physique of Ben Johnson, and a pair
of knee-high motorcycle boots he cuts a dash of menace in
the West End gentleman's club where we met. While his four
LPs to date boast an elemental basso profoundo rock-belt,
it is all the more unsettling, then, that when he opens his
mouth an East London burr emerges.
As his alter ego, the tortured soul of The The, "Mind
Bomb" is Johnson's fourth album in a decade. While the
band played their first concert as a quartet in the same month
Margaret Thatcher first played Prime Minister they soon slimmed
down to a one-man non-gigging operation, allowing Johnson
free rein to dispatch a distinctly personal mix of rock and
roll, political persuasion, and psychic examination.
Strangely, Johnson's records are released by the reactionary
CBS corporation. It was the lure of Johnson's early atypically
prissy track, "Uncertain Smile," that attracted
the hitmen, but signing the teenage prodigy was not simple
thanks to Johnson's manager Stevo. A pocket battleship of
a man, Stevo has made a reputation out of his professional
eccentricity.
In the past he had sent teddy bears to meetings in his place
and had inserted clauses demanding a regular supply of jelly
babies into recording contracts. In Johnson's case, he merely
demanded that the managing director of CBS, Maurice Oberstein,
sign his charge on a lion in Trafalgar Square at midnight.
If CBS seems an unlikely home for the left-field sensibility
of Johnson, there is a logic to it. "A large label actually
gives you more freedom than an independent. If I was still
on 4AD Records, I'd be paying everyone's wage packet so they
would keep close tabs on me. CBS have got Michael Jackson
and George Michael to foot the bills, so I more or less do
as I please."
With an eight album contract, Johnson's current work-rate
allows for the prospect that he will still be with the label
in his fifties. Nonetheless, Johnson's reluctance to promote
his records by regular touring has resulted in sleepless nights
for the accountants. All parties are smiling now that Johnson
has formed a live band for an imminent world tour that includes
former Smiths guitarist Johnny Marr.
Until now, Johnson has had to depend on the media to disseminate
his messages of doom and gloom, interspersed with some homespun
global optimism. A recent result was his debut appearance
on Top of the Pops, promoting his stab at Thatcherism, "The
Beat(en) Generation."
While Johnson has considerable respect for Elvis Costello's
recent anti-Thatcher outbursts, he has misgivings about browbeating
the public with his opinions. "You can't go on about
the Government all the time or you begin to sound like a scratched
record. Everybody who wants to know how bad things are knows
by now."
One of his rare live outings in recent years, however, was
during the last election, when he loosely affiliated himself
with Red Wedge and played a brief acoustic set on their consiousness-raising
tour. "There are as many problems with that as with Top
of the Pops. You tend to be patronising and preaching to the
converted."
Johnson's dissaffection has led to a withdrawal from the specifics
of party politics. He shares a feeling among a growing number
of musicians that the post-Live Aid pop has been unfairly
burndened with a responsibility to effect change, ultimately
a hopeless task. "The causes are worthy ones, but the
syndrome of concerts and records as a way to solve them are
becoming tired. What is needed is an overall effort to weave
a kind of fabric of feeling which can effect a climate a change."
Accordingly, in the pipeline is a potential alliance with
the ecological pressure group, ARK, where pop, comedy, and
theatre has united to save the planet. "Politics is the
froth on the surface. You have to get underneath to understand
what causes the conditions."
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