Exam question number I -- Choose the correct statement from the following choices: A.) The Mission have sold out. B.) The Mission are just the Sisters of Mercy part 2, really. C.) The Mission are mindless gothic monstrosities. D.) Absolutely, positively none of the above.
If you choose A, B, or C, you've most definitely got a lot to learn. Read on to receive your education. Those of you who choose D, good for you. Go to the head of the class!
Unlike the traditional gothic death merchants of pop music The Mission are all too often taken for, they actually are a jolly happy lot. And why not, what with a loyal following that's as well known as the band, a hit album (God's Own Medicine), five consecutive hit singles and a six week North American tour under their belts, The Mission certainly have a lot to smile about, especially when you consider their relatively short existence·
And so to that well traveled road, back to the roots of The Mission. Comprising singer/guitarist Wayne Hussey (ex Sisters of Mercy), bassist Craig Adams (also an ex-Sister), guitarist Simon Hinkler (ex-Artery), and drummer Mick Brown (ex-Red Lorry Yellow Lorry), the band had a short career as the Sisterhood in the early months of 1986. Ex Sister Andrew Etdritch then won a legal battle to use that name for his own band. Our heroes changed their name to The Mission and in May 1986 released their first single "Serpent's Kiss" on the independent Chapter 22 label· (That single has so far spent an astonishing one and a half consecutive years in the indie charts and was the top selling indie single of 1986.) After a double A-sided second chart hit "Garden of Delight/Like a Hurricane," The Mission signed a major deal with Polygram. Three consecutive Top 20 singles later and a scant year after their birth, here they are.
Phonogram press supremo Sian is in a bit of a state today. It's 1:00 p.m. and her boys still haven't arrived at the office. A phone call to the hotel reveals that they are sitting in the hotel lobby, very well behaved, waiting for their car which is unfortunately late. Another call to the car company is met with the question, "Was it a car or a bike you wanted?" Sian collapses in a fit of nervous, exhausted laughter.
"There's four of them! A BIKE??" 1:30 comes and there's actually only three of them. Craig is ill in bed, no doubt still recuperating from the now infamous end-of-tour party. Better late than never, The Mission arrive led by Wayne, resplendent as always in his purple Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, complete with matching purple fingernails. All this so early in the day? I glance over at Sian. She's positively radiant; her day will proceed as planned. I get the funny feeling that mine won't.
I'm teamed up with Simon and Mick (whose main concern at the moment seems to be whether or not my name is Irish) as Wayne is hauled off to do an interview with someone from Finland. But he promises to join us afterwards, an event I'm sure I could manage to escape. Or could I?
So, guys, now that you're with a major label, you've had a string of chart successes and you've been on Top of the Pops; in some quarters the cry is "SELLOUT!" How do you answer this charge? I'm offered the reply in stereo. "Idiots!" say Simon and Mick in unison. "There's this trendy idea that just because you're making money and you're successful, you've sold out," continues Mick. "It's stupid, really, because if we didn't make good records, we wouldn't be successful, and if we weren't successful, chances are these people wouldn't have heard of us anyway -- so what's the bloody point of what they're trying to say?" Simon joins in again. "Anyway, our real fans are happy for us, and they're glad we're doing well. What can we say to the other people except that we're happy with what we're doing. Our fans are happy with it, and we'll continue doing it."
While we're on the subject of fans, The Mission's faithful, known as the "Eskimos," are probably the most celebrated group of fans in Europe. Surprisingly small in number (actual Eskimos number only about twenty; the rest are known as Missionaries), they even have their own special "Eskimo" t shirts. Needless to say, they follow the band everywhere and can also be found at most gigs of sister band All About Eve. I ask what kind of relationship The Mission would like to have with their fans, Eskimos and Missionaries alike. Mick obliges. "Our fans are quite sweet. We get on really well with them. They know that we always show them respect so they do the same for us." "But," adds Simon, "there's always that elitist element -- not the Eskimos -- that feel no one else should 'enjoy us. Those aren't our real fans," he adds. "See, our fans are pretty important to us. If we treat them like rubbish, they'd never come back -- then where would we be? Like with our fan club, we read every single letter addressed to us personally, we really do."
And The Mission are as good as their word. Recently, Wayne attended a London performance of All About Eve and was set upon by adoring fans from the very moment he arrived. Not once did he turn down a request for an autograph, a kiss, or a few minutes of conversation. Every fan received his undivided and patient attention until the next one cut in. Mission fans are a very luck bunch indeed, especially when compared with how other bands treat their followers. I ask if the other band members resent Wayne being in the limelight. "No, not at all," offers Mick. "It's usually like that anyway; the lead singer gets the attention in most groups. It doesn't bother us at all, really." Simon laughs. "Yeah, it's the same way with the girls. There's a certain hierarchy, if you will, to being in a band. These girls strut backstage, boobs first, and go down the line. If the lead '; singer's not having any, they try the lead guitarist, then the ' bass player..." "Yeah, and the drummer's always last," sighs a wistful Mick, not without humor, and much to Simon's' amusement.
Actually, I've noticed that Simon is perpetually bright and smiling. Now aren't The Mission supposed to be all dark and dreary and gothic and stuff? At least that's what the trendy little crypt dwellers would like to believe. But tell us in your own words, Simon, are you really all that miserable? The smile turns to a laugh. "'No, not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. We're actually very happy people!" Mick busies himself rolling a cigarette, then considers the question. "1 don't know where we got that image, really. We don't put that across, I don't think. We have a good time, and anyone who's ever seen us on or off stage should know that!"
Ain't that the truth. In their early days, The Mission's offstage reputation was such that they were denied an appearance on Britain's premier chart show Top of the Pops even after "Stay With Me" reached No. 11. The same applied to "Wasteland." but finally the BBC relented when "Severina" went Top 20 and The Mission enjoyed their heretofore finest professional moment. Oddly enough,"Severina"is one of the most played records on the jukebox of the Queen Vic, resident pub of the BBC's Eastenders, Britain's most popular TV show. Big time.
So what's next for The Mission? "Well, we're touring here, there, and everywhere for the next few months," answers Mick. Simon finishes. "We'll be doing some recording in the autumn, and there should be an album out in the new year"
Unfortunately, due to their late arrival, we have to end it there.,. "Nice boys," I think as we're walking through the maze of Phonogram corridors. Suddenly out of nowhere, we're cornered by you-know-who. Obviously, this interview isn't over yet!
"Oh, you're finished?" asks Mr. Hussey. "1 wanted to speak to you too." Inexplicably, Simon and Mick are spirited away by Sian, and I'm left alone with this person I've been slightly afraid to meet. Within minutes, I've learned a firm lesson about judging the proverbial book and we're chatting like old friends. He laughing!), suggests that I only live in Islington because it's Spandau Ballet's hometown. I tell him he wouldn't even raise an eyebrow in Islington, not with Zodiac Mindwarp walking around. He counters quickly "Oooh, I'll have to change that. I'll put on my best party frock!" He asks me what I think of The Joshua Tree, because he thinks it's brilliant. We mutually agree never to discuss the Cult -- EVER. We also agree on arrangements to continue the interview when there's more t me. He's altogether much more friendly and articulate than the flighty nut case I imagined. This is only one of the many illusions Wayne Hussey will shatter before we're through.
A few days later and Wayne's holding court magnificently at the Hammersmith Clarendon. Even though we are here to see All About Eve until they hit the stage he is the undisputed star of the nigh:, just by being there. "I love being the most famous person in the room," he giggles. "Everyone always keeps looking over to see what you're doing!" He obviously enjoys his role as a star, but what about a private life? "1 don't really have one," he admits. "Sometimes I forget what it's like to just sit there watching television. I'm very rarely alone." (No comment....) "Hey wait a minute. Contrary to popular opinion, I do not take a different young lady to bed every night. Or even every week for that matter. There's so many stories circulating about me that just aren't bloody true. But what can I do about it?"
At first glance and at first read, Wayne Hussey is an idiot. A party animal. Drunken, uncouth, a purple fruitcake, etc. You name it, they've said it. A very slim (don't ever call him "skinny") person, quite often in a dress and with the ever present bottle of Blue Nun clutched in his painted fingers, I suppose it is rather difficult to take him seriously at first. But the public side is far removed from the private side, and to use his own favorite description of himself, there's more to him than meets the eye.
"Why does everyone always say I'rn gothic?" he wonders as we peruse the lyrics of his newest song only written that day. "Why? Just because I use words like 'blood' and 'knife'? Alright then. I'm just soooo gothic!" Well maybe not necessarily "gothic," but you must admit, Wayne, that the majority of your songs are not exactly sunny and cheerful. "Severina" is downright scary. "But not all my songs are about death and misery. Take 'Love Me To Death,' right?" (Must we?) "That Song is a celebration. A celebration of life and love." (It's also obscene.) "It's not obscene! Why is it obscene?" (Oh come on, Wayne). He relents a bit. "It's very ambiguous. It treads the fine line between obscenity and beauty. You could take it either way." (No it's not, no it doesn't and no you couldn't. It's just plain obscene.) "Only you would take it that way," he laughs, trying to turn it around and make me the pervy one. A sly one, this small but perfectly formed pain in the arse -- but strangely endearing.
Wayne has on his turntable today a pre-release copy of All About Eve's new single "Our Summer." He's all smiles for a number of reasons. All About Eve are the band closest to The Mission, with singer Julianne being featured on the God's Own Medicine LP. And if that's not enough, "Our Summer" was produced by none other than Wayne and Simon. "They're such a brilliant band," enthuses Wayne. "Julianne has one of the best voices I've ever heard. She's lovely." And that she is. Actually beaming as the record plays on, I almost expect him to start handing out cigars. I steal off quietly to make a cup of tea during the haunting B-side "Lady Moonlight." Another Pleasant Valley Sunday...
It's been a lousy Sunday for Wayne Hussey. His beloved Liverpool have lost the only Cup competition they were left in and he's devastated. After a decent period of mourning (his) and gloating (mine), talk turns to the upcoming American tour. "1 can just see it," he muses. "Two months of not knowing where I am. This is what it will feel like -- interview, sound check, gig, interview, bed. Interview, interview, sound check, interview, gig, interview, interview..." But he knows that once he gets started, he'll have the time of his life. I'll be playing in all these places I've never heard of. I mean, places like Arizona only exist in my dreams, and now I'll actually be playing there."
The Mission face the grueling and unenviable task of trekking across Canada and the U.S. for almost two months. Then it's back to Europe and back to America again, followed by the recording of a new album and probably another British tour. Doesn't all this take a bit of a toll on your mental and physical health, not to mention your personal life? Wayne ponders the question for a moment. "Well," he begins. "Let's face it, I'm a musician. My job is to play gigs and make records. I don't really have time for much else, except maybe interviews and stuff. That's it. That's the extent of my life right now."
Ah, but then again, he's done it all before. Since it's the question on everyone's lips anyway -- the one I haven't asked -- Wayne takes this opportunity to set the record straight, once and for all, on the Sisters of Mercy. "Look, the Sisters were a great band, and I'm very proud to have been a part of it. But it's over. Finished. I just wish people would accept that and stop living in the past. The Sisters are no more."
And to their credit, The Mission do not rely heavily on the past glory of any of the four band members for their live show like some bands do. True, old Sisters lave rave-up number Iggy's "1969" does creep into the set, but strictly as a crowd pleaser, not as a cheap and desperate attempt to gain favor with the audience. That's really the last thing The Mission need. Wayne, Craig. Simon, and Mick are four very popular young men these days and for some startlingly obvious reasons too. Besides being talented musicians, they enjoy a warm relationship with their audience, based on mutual respect and affection· not a bad foundation to build upon.
And these are early days yet.
The night before they're due to depart for America, Craig, Simon and Mick return to London, and The Mission reunite for a rave-up of their own. The next morning, Wayne is still awake, a bit off his game, and can't wait to sleep on the plane. As he stumbles into the hotel lobby with wet hair and a three-day growth on his face, he still looks every inch the star. But does he look too rough to pass inspection at Immigration? "1 can just imagine it -- I'll lose my voice on the first night of the tour and get deported for lack of artistic merit," he jokes. (Not bad for 10 a.m. I still think the guy is a walking sense of humor.)
So as I watch The Mission head off for the airport, ready, willing and able to conquer America, I feel a strange sense of loss. I realize this has been no ordinary interview, and I'm really going to miss Wayne and the boys But they'll no doubt touch many more lives on their travels. Mission Accomplished.
MISSION UPDATE: Many things have changed since this interview was first written. The six-week American tour lasted three months, the highlights being an appearance on Joan Rivers' talk show and a mini-tour with the Psychedelic Furs, culminating with a show at New York's famed Radio City Music Hall. The low point being bassist Craig Adams' collapse from nervous exhaustion and subsequent return to the U.K. On the British side, Phonogram has released a compilation of the early Chapter 22 tracks, appropriately entitled The First Chapter, which, appropriately, shot into the Top 20 immediately upon release. The Mission have supported U2 twice in Britain, headlined the Reading Rock Festival and made yet another trip to the U.S. The Mission just released their new album called Children and introduced it to an unsuspecting American public with a mini-tour of the States this past February .