THE PARTISANS play a game of Unhappy Families, with STEVE KEATON as Mr Ham, The Butcher
The Partisans | The Best Part Of Breaking Up | ENTRENCHED IN mud and blood somewhere on rock’s equivalent to Goose Green, the Partisans attempt to play ‘Colonel Bogey’ on a toothless comb.
They’re an army in disarray; once fearsome valley herberts now confused and tattered and preparing for the final blow-out. I doubt if their shell-shocked eyeballs can focus on the carnage about them.
Fairly surprising considering the mega-wallop their last 45 ’17 Years Of Hell’ dealt to the indie charts. I’d have thought them to be fighting fit, not splitting apart like a Sputnik on re-entry. But splitting apart they are.
Now I can’t claim to have been one of the Partisans’ most fervent boosters (although the notion of a Welsh punk band appeals greatly) — I’ve always felt they’ve courted as much cliché as any genuine teenage passion — but to lose anybody who can produce something as wonderfully, undeniably trashy as ’17 Years’ is cause for some concern.
So when the tales of sundered ranks began to filter through from the front line it became obvious that a natter was in order. But arranging this turned out to be an abortive and frustrating affair. I was to learn that the Partisans are about as together as an unassembled Airfix kit!
The Partisans | The Best Part Of Breaking Up
When we did finally meet however I was a little surprised to discover such an intensely likeable bunch. Rampant good humour wasn’t really what I’d expected to find from the purveyors of such mad menace as ‘I Don’t Give A F*”k’ and ‘Bastards In Blue’. Perhaps the vinyl was an even greater sham than I’d first imagined?
Vocalist Rob, drummer Shark (something to do with the size of his mouth I guess) and guitarist Andy are all 18 and unemployed. Bassist Louise is the odd one out in that she has a job, as an apprentice hairdresser. She’s also considerably more attractive than the others (although Andy provides some competion) with a pair of legs that frankly I found most alarming.
For a time she and the guitarist were, ahem, stepping out but this has since stopped. Juicy scam though is unfortunately rather sparse on the ground owing to Rob and Shark’s respectful (and annoying) reluctance to discuss the matter.
Despite valiant efforts I fail to make much headway in the scandal stakes and am relegated to asking the usual, band-type question. Such as:
Have you guys split up or what?
“Well you see we all want to go in different directions,” Rob says rather carefully. “But before we make the final decision and split up proper like, we’re going to record an album for No Future. We’ll see how that turns out.”
Andy: “But I’m not staying with them, I’m looking for another band.”
ROB GOES on to explain that whatever happens he and Shark intend to continue with the Partisans’ handle “but we’ll have to give it a bit of time for things to sort themselves out”.
The Partisans | The Best Part Of Breaking Up
When asked exactly how the split came about Louise aims an emotional barb in the direction of the guitarist with a curt
“Well he just run away, didn’t he!”
Andy ignores this and declares: “Everyone just sort of got bored with the band.”
Louise glares at this quietly.
Shark: “I don’t think we were really dedicated enough and, well, we had no jobs and no money and it’s hard to stay in a band because you need a bit of money to keep it going, to buy new equipment and stuff like that.”
Louise: “And the gigs got boring too . . . “
Andy: “No they didn’t they were great!”
Louise: “Oohh, come off it”
Rob: “It became difficult to gig because we couldn’t afford the petrol to get to the gigs. No Future didn’t help at all.”
Andy: “Things started to get bad when all our equipment got nicked. That was the worst thing. Me and Rob spent loads on gear, we bought it on HP and it got stolen. We couldn’t practise or anything and we were still paying for it. I hated it after that because every gig I had to worry about finding an amp. And then she got glassed by a skinhead in Birmingham!”
I quickly peer in a medical manner over the bassist’s features, which seem delightfully unscathed.
“He was drunk and fell on top of her and his glass smashed in her face. So I hit him and he hit me back and it ended up in a riot. This kid’s drum kit was smashed to bits and a couple of guitars got broken. I got a little pissed off with all these kind of things so I left and moved up to London.”
“I didn’t know anything at all about him leaving until he phoned me from Brixton. It was a bit of shock,” says Rob flatly.
The Partisans | The Best Part Of Breaking Up
With all these Poseidon Adventure type disasters going on it’s almost astonishing that they managed to come up with a minor-league classic like ’17 Years Of Hell’ at all. I ask Louise to give me the story behind the single.
“I dunno,” she says, jaws working on an ever-present wad of chewing gum, “I never could understand that one!”
Rob comes to her rescue: “It’s not really about anything. It’s just the pictures on the sleeve, they sum it up really. It’s just saying that you shouldn’t believe all you hear, because half the groups don’t believe what they’re singing anyway.”
So who actually wrote it?
Rob: “Well it was a group effort . . . “
Andy: But it was mostly my tune!”
Louise: “Ooh, shut up you bighead!”
Shark: “Actually we weren’t all that happy with it because the production wasn’t up to much, all you can hear on it are the overdubs. It should have been better because I think it’s one of our best songs.”
The Partisans | The Best Part Of Breaking Up
NOW THE Partisans is a great name for a band. It means a soldier, a guerrilla. Right?
Rob: “Yeah, a resistance fighter, everyone seems to think it’s a good name. But there’s a bit of an argument as to who made up the name, Shark or me. We were walking along the beach at the time, we’d been through a lot of names and then that one came up. It just seemed to fit, you know, resistance fighters struggling against the system and all that.”
Andy: “But even though it’s sort of a political name, we’re not that sort of band. We don’t know anything about politics. I think once you start getting deep into ‘The System’ and all that kind of thing you start to contradict yourself and get into tangles.”
Rob: “Well you wouldn’t catch me fighting the dole for one thing. I love it, it’s great. Well I’ve only been on the dole for a year (Louise splutters with laughter at this) but I like it. I get up in the morning, do my paper round (my turn to splutter, this time in amazement). Yeah, well, it’s extra to the dole right, a bit extra money — and then loaf about. Doing a paper round is better than being ripped off on YOPS, that’s just slave labour. You just feel like a piece of garbage on them.”
As Rob talks, Louise and Andy are busy hitting each other in a private squabble. Andrew, the Bridgend Battler, is clearly taking a pasting. I ask them if it was at all difficult maintaining a relationship in a band (yeah, OK, I know I’m nosey . . . ).
“No, there’s no difficulties really,” declares Andy quickly.
“Oh yes there is”, snaps back Louise. “There always has been — with your jealousy!”
“Aww!”
The Partisans | The Best Part Of Breaking Up
Rob: “Every time someone would look at her he’d get jealous. It was the real Woman’s Own problem page bit.”
Andy concedes that this might be true. “Well I couldn’t really enjoy myself at gigs because I had to keep an eye on the old girl. I think if I ever go with another band I’m not gonna have any girls in it. I think I’m prejudiced against girls now.”
Louise promptly hits him again and the squabble continues.
The Partisans are a classic case of too much too soon. The bright fledgling band discovered too swiftly for their own good. They’ve been denied a natural growth.
“That’s definitely right,” says leggy Louise. “We’d only made a demo tape and we didn’t think much of it really when it all began to happen. There we was just doing cover versions of ‘CID’ and ‘Pretty Vacant’ and then the next thing we knew we were being offered recording contracts. We only had six songs at the time.”
Andy: “I was really surprised at all the attention. I mean we were only playing in little Cub Scout halls to kids of about 11 and 12. We never had a chance to improve. Like, I’d love to sound like the first Clash LP, they’re my heroes, but we don’t sound anything like that.”
Shark: “When ’17 Years . . . ‘ went into the charts it was like, unbelievable. Rock stars!”
Louise: “It was almost embarrassing because some of the local bands got really jealous. They stopped talking to us.”
“But just because we’re breaking up, our album won’t be like, a throwaway affair.” assures Andy. “I’m going back to Wales to write some new songs with the rest of them. We’re all looking forward to doing it. We all like studio work, see. And I just want to make it as good as I can.”
Rob: “I think if anything, it’ll be like us saying goodbye to the old Partisans . . . “
“Aaahh,” sighs Louise. “Isn’t that sweet . . . “
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