Mark E Smith - Renegade: The Lives and Tales of Mark E. Smith

photographs by Tom Sheehan

I sensed it long before it happened.

They reminded me of the recent England team: the Beckham generation; that lot that fucked up so spectacularly in 2006 because they couldnt do what they were paid to do; because they couldnt spend time away from their birds; that lot who couldnt stop crying.

Lads with no guts, I cant stand them

Youre out there in America playing music, free drink, women, scenery; and you bail out in the middle of the night after the third gig.

Theyd only been there for a week.

I know fellows so-called scally types whod have given their right arm to be in their position. Imagine what other people think of you when theyre sat at home on the dole or sat in the pub and in walks this daft guitarist who didnt have the mettle to hang in there and see the rest of America.

I thought it was hilarious when Ben Pritchard did that interview with Anthony Meirion for the unofficial Fall website, blabbing his heart out. It reminded me of one of those memoirs that politicians love writing: Ben Pritchard: The Fall Years, 20012006

I think hes going through this phase at the moment where his tolerance for alcohol has just dropped Hes getting drunk really quickly He was falling asleep in the dressing room five minutes before we were due onstage when youre drunk and in a deep sleep youre not gonna get up for anyone, yknow hes threatened to stab people before for waking him up, yknow.

Interview with Ben Pritchard 12 June 2006
http://www.visi.com/fall/news/pritchardint2006.html

I knew it was coming. I knew they didnt have the nerve.

Three days in and theyve got faces like vexed tomatoes, their skins flaking sci-fi style: burnt to fuck. They were an embarrassment; not only to me and the wife and The Fall fans but to their own generation.

We wanted to do it and we were prepared to do it and we were looking forward to it but we knew that it was gonna be it was five weeks and thats longer than weve ever done on tour with this line-up. There was already rifts and things happening when we did the last UK tour.

Its a brutal let-down for a lot of people. They go on tour and it isnt what they expected. All at once their lives dont work any more. Theyre adrift in more ways than they can handle. Its not for everyone; twelve-hour drives starting first thing in the morning, different food, different culture and all that shit, but its not as if were living in the 40s; most kids should be used to all that nowadays.

I seriously think theres something wrong with Ben. Ive always suspected it. He has a stunning ability for getting the wrong end of the stick all the time about everything. I think it has something to do with him being boiled alive as a kid. There was a kettle boiling on a stove when he was four or five, and it fell on him. He had to go to hospital. I dont think his nerves have recovered. Thats my theory, anyway.

We were using the Winnebago as a dressing room when we played in Tucson at the Congress Hotel and wed been sat waiting for him and we were getting all edgy you wonder what kinda mood is he gonna turn up in. Whos he gonna go for tonight? Whose turn is it? For the first two nights I was golden bollocks. It was Steve and Spen. Youre shit, youre shit, him and me are the professionals

And at this gig in Tucson, he walked into the dressing room just in a really fucking stinking black mood. He took a bottle of wine out the dressing room, What the fuck you looking at? What are you fucking looking at?! And he just lifted his hand up and hes got a corkscrew in his hand. And Spence had to grab him we all kinda got out of the van and we left him in there to stew. I think somebody had told him that wed all had a meeting about him and about his behaviour, yknow, you couldnt go for a piss without somebody telling Mark and everything we did angered him. And we just wanted to get on with our jobs and we werent being allowed to do that.

Hes like an old-fashioned gentleman fraud: semi-middle class. Cooks for his parents every Tuesday chilli; goes to church once a month. Keeping up appearances. He makes me out to be some Dennis Wheatley horror character. Telling stories of how Id wait for them on their days off in the hotel lobby, skulking. Then Id jump out and ask if theyve had anything to eat. Thats so Ben, that. Id be having a drink in the lobby and theyd walk in and Id ask them if theyd eaten, if they fancied a drink, if they were alright. Not in a motherly way a simple question, basically. Nothing serious.

We were driving down from Tucson to Phoenix, driving through the desert at 70 miles an hour, were in a Winnebago, or that kind of thing, nobodys got a seatbelt on in the back And Mark was pissed and he just came wandering over, walking to the front of the bus and I was sat next to the driver with a map, giving this guy directions. You know, for some reason, Mark had made this guy the enemy. Before this guy has a chance to do his job, Mark was like, Youre fuckin shit! Im getting rid of him! But he doesnt just sack him, he winds him up Mark had a bottle of beer and I think he just poured a bit on this guys head some people having a beer over their head couldve gone off the road, just panicked, yknow, and with people walking around in the back, he could have killed everybody And he walked up to the back of me with a lit cigarette in his hand and I could smell something burning and Im sure he was at it with a cigarette at the back of my head, just cos I was helping this guy with directions.

Tell him anything and he construes it in a paranoid way. I feel sorry for him.

I did spill some beer over the driver. I did flick a bit of paper at him; because he was asleep. Why say things like that? Whys he talking behind my back about me taking speed? Its not as if Im jacking up every day.

Hes not the first. They enter a completely different world when they join The Fall. When theyre first in the group theyre just used to having a few pints on the weekend, then they see me with the double whiskys. Next minute theyre on the double whiskys, pint and a line of coke.