THE VERY THINGS

"Somewhere there's a party where the radio's on. But don't step off the pavement, this is Motortown."

Bizarre, unreal, phantasmagorical poured over with the right amount of black humor. If I have to describe the music of The Very Things I guess this would be a way to illustrate them. The Very Things are the kind of band as soon as hear them you know right away who it is haunting your ears. Formed in 1983 by RR Dallaway and The Shend, their mission was to create a ‘flexible container’ for a variety of personnel, music and ideas.

The CD player in the background just kicked off the first notes of ‘Mummy, You're A Wreck’, their 1985 classic. Providing the right setting to start my conversation with founding guitarist RR Dallaway. A conversation that most likely will contain ghosts, radiation, an electrician, rivers of sand, a toga, Samantha Stephens, an antique suit, space walks, a scrap iron man, and a dash of grim humor.

Good evening Robin! May I first of all give you a big thank you on behalf of Peek-A-Boo for engaging in conversation with us. The year is 1983, the year it all began for The Very Things. But not for you because before that you were also a band member of the Punk/Post-Punk band The Cravats. What do you remember from that period? How did it all start for you?

Good evening, Hayley. You're welcome, I'm delighted to chat with you and the esteemed Peek-A-Boo magazine readers.

As The Cravats, we recorded our fourth and final BBC John Peel Session in November 1982 and I remember thinking whilst we were working on it that it might be the last time we recorded as a band, which became the case. I was really happy with the songs I'd written and with the recordings, but felt that we'd reached a watershed. This is, of course, all pre-internet, so we had no idea how many people were listening to us and supporting us. To me, apart from John Peel’s support, it felt like we were in the wilderness somewhat. We didn’t realise until much later how influential and loved the band was. Stopping work with that group of people wasn't easy. With hindsight, we perhaps could have continued, taking the band in a new direction, but at the time I wanted more freedom. I was listening to a wide variety of music, including jazz, rockabilly and psychedelia and wanted to be able to include those flavours (and any others) should we decide to. Our work has always been described as Post-Punk, which is a good label, but at this time we also felt very much aligned with the emerging Goth and Psychobilly scenes, and were watching Robert Wiene’s ‘The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari’, David Lynch's 'Eraserhead', and episodes of The Outer Limits & The Twilight Zone. This formed the background to the formation of The Very Things. The initial idea was that it should be a flexible container for art-pop, post-punk projects, but retain a core identity.

So having put The Cravats ‘on ice’, in late ‘82 The Shend and I started work on the first two tracks, ‘The Gong Man’ and ‘The Colours Are Speaking To Me’ inspired by Victorian music hall songs and psychedelic rock. We recorded them in early ‘83 with a mobile studio at the band’s rehearsal room, playing all the instruments (with guitar, drums and organ by me). The tracks were released as a single on Crass’ new Corpus Christi label later in 1983, with a hand screen-printed fold-out sleeve, featuring art-directed photographs by me of ‘The Gong Man’.

Can you describe what attracted you to the emerging Goth & Psychobilly scenes? To take 'Goth' as an example, there are many bands who fully embraced being labelled ‘Goth’, but there are also who did not want to be associated with the ‘Goth’ label at all.

Firstly, although we are often bracketed as Goth-related, we weren't part of what ultimately became the narrowly defined Goth subculture. I should also say that I'm sure much has been written about what is and isn't Goth, by people much more knowledgeable than me about the scene. I would not for a moment claim to have been embedded in that subculture, and there may be a kind of orthodoxy about Goth and its history. But all I can do is to relate my experience of being very influenced by things Gothic. For me, some elements of it appeared in the 60s (novelty songs like Bobby 'Boris' Picket's 'Monster Mash' and Napoleon XIV's 'They're Coming To Take Me Away', Screaming Lord Sutch etc.) and in the 70s (Alice Cooper, The Damned & Dave Vanian) but grew gradually into a definable movement in early 80s. To my mind, there were a few artists around at that time who were picking up on the same influences: Mary Shelley's novel 'Frankenstein', German Expressionist cinema of the 1920s (Murnau's 'Nosferatu'), Kenneth Anger ('Scorpio Rising'), David Lynch ('Eraserhead, 'Elephant Man' etc.) and more camp elements including old Hammer horror films. In terms of music, there were releases I became aware of from about 1979 onwards, including Bauhaus' 'Bela Lugosi's Dead' and Hugh Cornwell's 'Nosferatu' album. Then there were Pere Ubu, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Cure, The Birthday Party, Joy Division (and dare I say it) The Cravats and The Very Things, to name but a few, all containing Gothic elements. I haven't mentioned the many obvious and purely Goth bands from the early 80s, but I do like some of them very much. I did go to The Batcave and Klub Foot (where the Psychobilly scene and its crossover with Goth seemed to be emerging) a few times. The whole spirit of things Gothic, the combination of romance and horror certainly inspired me, and continues to do so. To me, it also seems to be a good metaphor for the imagination. Both The Cravats and (more often) The Very Things have understandably appeared on a variety of Goth and Psychobilly flavoured compilations.

And so it began; the dawn of The Very Things. Though The Very Things was not the initial intended name for the band. It was actually ‘The BushesScreamWhileMyDaddyPrunes’, what would become the title of the first The Very Things album (released in 1984).

Yes, I think those two names were the only ones that we considered. The Shend came up with the phrase 'The Bushes Scream While My Daddy Prunes', which we liked but felt would have been quite unwieldy as a band name. So, in an uncharacteristically sensible moment, we decided to call the band The Very Things, which felt perfect. It didn't have too much 'baggage'. If it reminded us of anything, it might have been something like a 1930s jazz band, but it felt flexible enough to be a broad banner that we could work under. 'The Bushes Scream While My Daddy Prunes' was too good not to use, of course. By coincidence, in 1983 when I was writing the first album, I saw a newspaper report of a man who had accidentally set fire to his house trying to remove moles from his garden. It gave me an idea that seemed to be a perfect fit with 'The Bushes Scream...' title and with the themes of neurosis and control running through the rest of the album. I wrote all the lyrics in Redditch Public Library (and sometimes on the walk there) during 1983 and worked on arrangements and 'found sounds' by using multiple cassette recorders at home. We recorded the album in two blocks of tracks over the winter of '83-'84, again using a mobile studio at the band’s rehearsal room. By this time we'd also acquired a drummer. Although I'd drummed on the first single, I wanted a more accomplished drummer to work with us on the album. We tried a few people (along with a stand-in bass player, James Davis, so that Shend could focus on vocals), but it wasn't really working. Anyway, one night we went to see a psychedelic mod band playing in a backstreet Redditch pub and it included 15 year-old Disney. He had an unusual style and we really liked what he was doing, so we had a chat with him after the gig. We hit it off, he joined us soon afterwards and we started rehearsals for recording the album immediately. 'The Bushes Scream While My Daddy Prunes' album was released in mid-1984, and we were lucky enough to score an indie hit with the title track. The cult black and white video for it, our homage to vintage sci-fi films (made with Channel 4’s The Tube), was much-loved and still clocks up thousands of views online.

You mentioned Mary Shelley as an influence. Imagine; for some reason one of the bandmembers can’t perform on a closely approaching concert, and there are no other musicians who can jump in at such a short notice. There is however one person who might be able to help you: the Swiss scientist called ‘Victor Frankenstein’. His help though will not be without ‘out of this world’ consequenses. Will you turn to him, yes or no?

Hayley, I think you win a prize for one of the most surreal questions that I've ever been asked! Hahahaha! OK, I will endeavour to answer... I assume that the prospect you allude to is for Victor to construct a musician for us? That's a tricky moral dilemma and being a sensitive soul, I can't help but empathise with his original creature, who suffered greatly. I don't think we could allow him to bring another tortured creature into the world. But wait a minute, let's assume that Victor himself has some musical ability (we certainly know that Victor's creature has an appreciation of music). I think that Victor might be a good fit for the band; I completely understand his driven, obsessive nature, it's a kind of single-mindedness that I recognise, it has been vital to me as creator and songwriter. And I think he might be a natural showman too – his manipulation of electricity could produce some dazzling effects on stage. I'm warming to this idea now... I can imagine he might be handy with a Theremin. Which would be perfect. So yes, Vic's in on Theremin.

Speaking of surreal, that would also be a perfect way to describe not just the music but also the atmosphere of your live performances. Any memorable/fun on stage anecdotes from those days you like to share?

The first things that come to mind include Disney Time occasionally getting up and running around his drum kit, whilst continuing to play. A bizarre and amazing feat that always made us laugh out loud. He's quite extraordinary. Unique. Still making us laugh.

Early gigs featured a friend of ours, Mr. H. He was a huge, menacing looking fellow. We had a TV and armchair centre stage. Mr. H would stroll on during the set and then, ignoring us, would sit on the chair and watch TV, or read a newspaper. Audiences found it somewhat unnerving. Sometimes we found it unnerving too.

Apparently, it's a tradition in some parts of the world to throw unwanted furniture out of the window around New Year. I know this happens in Italy, but I seem to recall that this happened in Germany. Maybe it was in the south. Anyway, driving away the next morning after a gig, along a street strewn with bric-a-brac, chairs, sofas etc. I spotted a very large oriental rug, rolled up which I fancied for my flat. We stopped and put it on top of the van. There was nothing to tie it down with, but it was enormous and very heavy and I assumed it would stay there. We drove along the Autobahn most of the day, but it wasn't until we stopped to eat that I noticed the rug was gone. We were all laughing and thinking the same thing; a fantastic image of an Aladdin's Magic Carpet taking off from the van roof and swooping over the motorway. Either that or it ended up on the windscreen of a following car.

We played a lot in Germany. During one tour, the tour manager persuaded us, as a favour, to play at someone's birthday party, in their garden. It was surreal. We were in the garage, everyone else was outside on the drive. There was no stage and hundreds of people. It was chaos. As soon as we started to play, everyone surged forward and pushed us to the back of the garage. The whole thing was genuinely terrifying.

One more on stage anecdotes question. I do not doubt that over the years you've shared the stage with a whole lot of bands. Can you name some and are there bands you haven't shared the stage with but would very much love to do so?

Indeed, we've played with The Only Ones, The Birthday Party, The Sugar Cubes and Bjork, Crime and the City Solution, Cabaret Voltaire, The Fall, Michael Nyman, Startled Insects, The Primitives – just a few that come to mind. Who would I like to play a gig with? Not worrying about whether they still exist or not, I think I'd choose a few bands whose sound we might compliment (and vice versa), like Working Men's Club, Django Django, Go Team!, Confidence Man, Sleigh Bells, Goat, She Drew The Gun, Foster The People, Groove Armada. Blimey, there are lots... that's just a few.

Before the release of ‘Motortown’ in 1987, the second The Very Things album, there was the 1985 single/EP ‘Mummy You're A Wreck’. A song that also appeared on various Goth/Dark Eighties compilations.

After the success of 'The Bushes Scream While My Daddy Prunes', we spent some time considering new projects. I'm always writing, so we had lots to work on. One key idea was to develop 'Mummy, You're A Wreck', a natural follow-up to 'The Bushes Scream...' We recorded it along with 'When Father Papered the Parlour' in early 1985 for a single release with Reflex Records, aiming to subsequently create a full 'Mummy...' album (to include a string trio from The John Graham Orchestra). However, 1985 was very busy: we recorded the video for 'The Bushes Scream...' for The Tube, toured in the summer, and worked on demos for 'This is Motortown' and a cover of the '60s hit 'Transfusion'. 'Transfusion' clearly felt like part of the Mummy project, but 'This is Motortown' was leading us in a new direction. On top of all this, we launched our own record label, DcL Electric Recordings. As a result, the Mummy project was shelved, though I did revisit it in 1993 with a limited vinyl release. I might come back to it again in the future... I'm very self-critical with regards to writing but, perhaps somewhat immodestly, the black humour of 'Mummy, You're A Wreck' still makes me laugh.

I will go more into detail about 'This is Motortown' and the second album in a moment, but first: A supernatural spirit, also known as the ‘Warlock of Wreckening’, approaches you in an unreal, unearth-like, dream. His offer to you is to do an exclusive The Very Things concert in one of two dark fictional towns you can choose from. One; the Pacific Northwest town of Twin Peaks. Two; the German town of Wisborg anno 1838. Will you accept his offer and what town would you choose?

I like the sound of this proposition. And I like the sound of having an agent in an alternative spirit world too. Both destinations are very intriguing and it's not an easy choice at all. I've always felt the presence of Gothic in America. There is something fascinating and bemusing about the coexistence of something very dark just under the bright shiny surface. Our 'missing' second album, based around 'Mummy, You're a Wreck', originally had the subtitle 'American Gothic' and the artwork was based on an obscure road movie set in the USA. There is something very resonant for me about those landscapes. There's some found sound at the end of the track 'Information' on our 'The Bushes Scream While My Daddy Prunes' album, with a lineman working out in the desert, who says: 'Y'hear it? Yeah. Any idea what it is? Might be someone up that way tapping the wires, or back that way listening to us, like we're listening to him. I wonder who it is? I dunno. After you've been working out in the desert for fifteen years like I have, y'hear a lot of things, see a lot of things too. The sun and the sky and the heat, all that sand out there with the rivers and lakes that aren't real at all. And sometimes you think that the wind gets in the wires and hums and listens and talks... just like what we're hearing now... Still hear it? No, it's gone. Well, that's the way it is... comes and goes.'

I have a bit of a love hate relationship with America. I loved the Americana I grew up with, the TV shows, films and comics. It's strange to see what's happening to it at the moment. David Lynch has certainly had a influence on our work, so I can easily imagine us playing The Bang Bang Bar, or One-Eyed Jacks in Twin Peaks. I think we would fit in perfectly. Warlock of Wreckening, sign us up for the gig.

And then there was ‘Motortown’ (preceded by the single ‘This is Motortown’). The second as well as the last The Very Things album before you initially parted ways in 1988. How do you look back at everything you achieved back then?

So, as briefly mentioned, the demo we recorded for a new management company between November '85 and January '86 included 'This is Motortown', which took us in a slightly different direction. While we initially planned this as the first release on our new DcL Electric Recordings label, by early '86 we were in talks with the new label One Little Indian (now One Little Independent). They had assembled an exciting studio production team which had been working with Soft Cell's Dave Ball and Björk & The Sugarcubes, and we felt 'This is Motortown' would benefit from being re-recorded with them.

We began working with them on a new collection of 'Motortown' tracks I'd written, at Berry Street Studios in London's Clerkenwell, in 1986. We were sharing the studio's availability with Bronski Beat. It was an incredibly exciting time for me. The team we were working with included the late Ray Shulman (Simon Dupree and the Big Sound, Gentle Giant), not only a truly amazing producer and musician, but also astonishingly generous with his time and knowledge. I learned an enormous amount in a short space of time, about music and recording technique and about what was then the very new world of digital recording, which was just opening up. So, after some very intense work and long hours, the singles 'This is Motortown' and 'Let's Go Out' were released to great success, followed by the 'Motortown' album in 1987. I was really happy with how our audience accepted the slight shift in direction and how well it was received.

At the present moment, we're rehearsing for some live shows, and whilst thinking about a set, I've been listening to our back catalogue quite a lot. The 'Motortown' album sounds very much of its time to me and I still love how big it all sounds. I'm very proud of what we achieved musically and with the production of that album, and humbled by how important the tracks became to some people, at particular times in their lives.

And not only rehearsing for some live shows. At the present moment, more than 35 years later, The Very Things have returned with a brand-new new album ‘Mr. Arc-Eye (Under A Cellophane Sky)’.

Yes, indeed. This latest incarnation started a few years ago and has evolved very organically. It began with a chance meeting with an old friend and fan of The Very Things from the '80s, who said, "You really should do some more Very Things stuff." At the time, it didn’t feel particularly important, nor did I make a conscious decision about it, but my mind started working on its own (as it often does when generating new ideas), imagining what The Very Things would sound like today.

I quickly had a handful of songs, which we started working on. It was very exciting. I imagined drawing a line from the 'Bushes Scream...' album, through 'Motortown', and continuing it to determine where and how a new project would take shape. I intended to work in the same way I had for the first two albums and was lucky enough to use the same room where they were written. Using found sounds and old cassette recorders, I developed ideas before combining them with digital recording technology and working with the rest of the band to create an 'album-shaped' project.

Thus, 'Mr. Arc-Eye (Under a Cellophane Sky)' began to emerge, exploring themes of illusion, truth, belief, and reality, all within a distinct sonic landscape. Sometimes, when you're on the right track, things seem to fall into place. We shot the cover photos in a 1970s swimming pool that was scheduled for demolition – it had a wonderfully eerie atmosphere, perfectly complementing the album track 'Ghost Pool'.

And then, sometimes, things don’t go as planned. Shortly after our first video shoot (for the lead single 'Driver'), I fell and broke my arm. Doctors warned me that I might never be able to play guitar again, which was hard to accept. We nearly abandoned the project. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case – I had some brilliant surgery, and after a long recovery, I was able to start playing again. However, the setback delayed the entire project by more than a year.

We kept quiet about the album until I felt it was ready. I always said that unless it was at least as good as the first two, we wouldn’t release it. We put in hundreds of hours, but did eventually achieve what we wanted. The album finally went on general release early this year, and the response has been completely amazing, so positive. Quite overwhelming.

So yes, we’re now rehearsing and preparing for some live shows later this year, all being well. If we’re playing down your way, come along and say 'hello' – we’d be delighted to see you.

I will. Robin, it’s been a pleasure talking to you. On behalf of Peek-A-Boo once again a big thank you. To conclude, any (famous) last words?

Thanks, Hayley, it’s my pleasure. I’d like to thank everyone who has made it to this point and read the whole interview, as well as everyone who has supported the band and bought the latest album. It’s incredibly flattering that so many people have asked about future releases.

We’ll soon be releasing an EP, including the track Hop On Pop, which, until now, has only been available via a download code with each vinyl album. It has generated much interest and airplay, so we’re very keen to make it more widely available. Beyond that, we’re producing a new video for the single release of Ghost Pool, which is being shot in an incredible, vast underground concrete complex.

I’m always writing, and I’m starting to shape ideas for a new album. We’ll be working on that soon, which is very exciting – I’m really looking forward to getting back into the studio.

Best wishes to you and all Peek-A-Boo readers, hope to speak to you again soon.

• The Very Things | Bandcamp
• The Very Things | YouTube
• The Very Things | Official Website

Hayley CLX
29/03/2025