Dead Man’s Shadow | Shadow Play

DEAD MAN’S SHADOW outlined by Steve Keaton

Article published in Sounds, 28th August, 1982

Dead Man’s Shadow | Shadow Play | OPENING SHOTS: John Igoe’s eyes are square and hard, his tightly shorn head split in two by a huge red grin.

“Oh yeah!” he enthuses mid sentence. “They were BRILLIANT! And remember Batman? That was great too, it’s about time they showed that again.

There are enthusiastic echoes of agreement.

“And what about Blakes Seven, I thought that was excellent – really funny. And there’s The Man From Uncle . . . The Monkees . . . and aren’t Laurel and Hardy superb!

The guitarist falls off his chair in delight. “Did you know Channel 4 are gonna repeat the original Avengers?” he wheezes. “Isn’t that just . . . “

Igoe is clearly a man of immaculate taste. A true connoisseur. Actually, I’ve always believed that the best way to suss out a group’s true worth is to check out their televisual taste buds. Going on the above I’d say Dead Man’s Shadow appear to be in a very healthy state . . . despite hailing from the eerie bogs of darkest Staines.

Dead Man’s Shadow are a true power punk trio, a teenage tornado. Apart from John on guitar there’s the very slight and nervous Ian Fisher (Fish to his mates) on drums and the equally cautious Matt Dagnut on bass.

They’re all as sharp as they are young and they play with a muscle that’d leave even Rocky Balboa punchy. Not that this has been particularly evident on their singles so far, though. The current ‘Bombscare’ EP, while being a quantum leap forward from the earlier ‘Heathrow Touchdown’ 45 (which they shared with highly vibrant neighbours Action Pact) still disguises their brilliantly bovine live sound.

“I know the singles have sounded weak,” John agrees, “but we haven’t yet been able to get our real sound in the studio. They should be a lot heavier.”

MINE’S A PINT: We meet up a short time after a bruising gig that saw them playing bottom of the bill to Beki’s boys and Charlie Harper. Despite almost rampant uncooperation they somehow managed to pull out all the stops and deliver a set of alarming power and promise. Enough to send shivers up the spine.

“Yeah, that wasn’t a bad gig,” says Matt, “we’ve got quite a good following around London — but to be honest we think London’s a piss ‘ole. The audiences are so apathetic and most of the gigs are bad.”

“And yet the kids wanna play in London,” says the guitarist in disbelief. “We can’t wait to get out of the place.”

John goes on to tell me in dejected tones that gigs, or rather the lack of them, are one of the band’s major problems.

“We were meant to have a tour,” he says, “a ten date tour starting off in Manchester —but it don’t like it’s gonna come off. We’ve got the Manchester date but that’s about it. There’s been some talk of some gigs with the Subs but I reckon that’s bullshit. I don’t think it’s gonna come off.”

Matt: “I want to get up to Scotland. There’s nothing much up there and we know that’s where we sell a lot of records. We had three kids come down from there just to see us one weekend!”

John: “We wrote to CND to see if we could play some Benefits for them. No nukes music got in touch with us and asked for a tape. So we sent them a copy of the single —and never heard from them again. Obviously they didn’t think we were the right sort of thing for them.”

The guys are quick to point out that disarmament is a common bond in the band.

“I wouldn’t join the movement,” says John, “I wouldn’t join any movement, but I do believe in it. We all do.”

Matt: “That’s where we’ve taken our name from y’know? The dead man’s shadow is a famous landmark in Hiroshima, it’s a man’s shadow imprinted on a bank. Being Anti-Nuke we thought that’d be a really good name.”

As you’d expect, their views feature heavily in the material, just a flash down the set list will reveal titles like ‘Another Hiroshima’, ‘Danger UXB’ and of course ‘Bombscare’, the single.

“I think there’s a chance of us maybe overdoing it a bit . . . perhaps we already have, but the songs are getting a lot more subtle now.” There’s much nodding of heads.

A good example of such subtlety is ‘The Last Cowboy’, a guarded reference to Ronnie Reagan. For my money it’s the stand-out track in their live set, boiling over with a rowdy power and dynamism. It’s also a reassuring break away from their straighter, thrashier origins.

“Yeah, well, that’s progression ain’t it!” smiles Igoe. “Well, we were never meant to be a thrash band, we never planned it that way!”

Matt: “We’ve always said we wanna be Dead Man’s Shadow — not Discharge! No way. We want to be original . . . in our own way.”

John: “Personally like bands like Theatre Of Hate and UK Decay, because they’re original. They’ve got such a lot of variety and that’s what we’re going for.”

“We put a lot of thought into our songs,” offers the unobtrusive Fish quietly. “They’re very musical and the lyrics mean something. Before we were just knocking them out, but not any more.”

John: “I think that’s where a lot of these bands go wrong, they make three singles and they all sound basically the same. That’s why I prefer old punk musically.” The other Shadows rattle pint glasses in gestures of agreement. “Back then every group had their own sound, like the Clash and the Jam — the Jam are one of my favourite groups, I think they’re brilliant.”

Matt: “I reckon most of the kids go to see a band these days not so much for the music but to see what they look like. That’s become the most important thing now. I suppose if we had hair all over the place with green bits in it we’d be a lot bigger than we are now.”

He’s right, I suppose. If there’s one thing DMS are a bit short on it’s a cohesive image, a face to put atop the muscle. It’s something I think they’re going to have to give a lot of thought to.

I soon learn the boys aren’t to enamoured with the ol’ ‘music biz’ schtick.

“The music business?” gasps Matt before laughing out loud. “Yeah, well, I didn’t think it was gonna be as bad as it is,” moans John, “but it is. I hate it, it’s all back stabbing. So far we’ve been with three record companies and have released three singles but we haven’t earnt a penny yet. We’re all in debt to Fish.”

The drummer, it appears, is the wealth behind the band.

“He’s paid for everything, all the equipment, the studio time . . .” Fish rather modestly says nothing.

“I once had a job,” confides John, “but I jacked it in because I didn’t like it. I’ve been on the dole now for a couple of years. They’ve just offered me a youth opportunities scheme but I didn’t wanna do that kind of thing. I want a proper job, so now they’ve threatened to kick me off the dole . . .”

THE WARNING: John rabbits on like Watership Down. He talks to me lovingly of Action Pact (his brother is their guitarist) and Panache fanzine (30p of excellence from 129 Clare Rd, Stanwell, Middx) who’ve given them much encouragement in months gone by.

He chats about the punk malaise — “It’s good there’s so many kids who want to do something, but they’re not trying to change anything any more. They’re defeatists” —and, of course, about TV.

Fish and Dagnut occasionally venture out and punctuate his ramblings. It’s all I can do to escape.